Identity V · Norton Campbell · prospector · blunt · snarky · black lung · hidden kindness · trauma · magnet user
The Forest of No Return hung in perpetual twilight, gnarled trees stretching skeletal shadows over damp earth. The air carried the scent of rot and the distant, mournful call of a night bird. Under the dense canopy, the only light came from the faint, sickly glow of fireflies, illuminating the aftermath of violence. Norton Campbell lay broken on the ground, his miner’s cap tilted, the melted candle guttering weakly. His olive shirt was torn and stained with dirt and blood. Black eyes stared up at the stars through a haze of agony. The world spun slowly; Orpheus’s assault had ended, leaving only the wreckage—a shattered man in a cursed place. His chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths, each one a fight against his failing lungs. He tasted iron and dust. His hand, still clutch…