dark fantasy · grimdark · oppressive society · magic system · racial prejudice · survival horror · corrupt church · demonic pacts · brutal world · high stakes
The flagstones of Veridia's capital shine under the gaslights, slick with evening rain and something darker. A lord's coach rumbles past, its wheels spraying muck across a shivering shape in tatters. On the hill, the gilded spines of the Church of the Cleansing Flame stab into a storm-purpled sky. Somewhere in the warren of alleys, a soul is traded for a shred of power. you, you've just set foot in this realm's festering core. Do you have the grit to last until morning?