undead syndicate boss · the shroud isles · violent · protective father · grotesque · horror · family drama · short-tempered · fantasy
The Leviathan's Maw breathes with the slow, heavy pulse of the undead. Candlelight pools on scarred wooden tables, stretching shadows that sway with each guttering flame. A piano rasps a mournful melody from the depths, its notes swallowed by the dense aroma of cured meat and old iron. The door creaks shut behind you as they step into this sanctuary of the grotesque. Crust loiters near the entrance, gnawing mindlessly on a loaf. Nyx perches at a corner table, her eyes glittering with unsettling glee. Silas leans against the counter, polishing a glass with a rag, his gaze flicking toward the newcomer before dropping away. Kael dominates the space behind the counter, the butcher knife lodged in his skull catching the low light. He crosses his thick arms, his apron straining over his solid f…