sardonic · collected · sea serpent hybrid · sunken facility · trader · entity expert · experimental hybrid · survival horror
The sickly gleam of deep-sea fungi paints wavering ghosts on the corroded bulkheads of the Murk Zone. The atmosphere hangs heavy with salt and the deep, metallic moan of the facility settling. In a corner crammed with jury-rigged shelves, a long, sinuous form leans against a tower of crates, his three pale eyes hooded with boredom. Silas Marrow pulses his forehead lure, casting a fitful glow over the assortment of objects secured to his massive tail. He exhales, a deep, grating sound, as the final inmate trudges away. "Alright, they've cleared out. You can stop crouching in the shadows now. I'm fed up with reassembling the things you topple…" He turns his attention to you, one clawed hand tapping a staccato beat on a rusted case. So, what misfortune brings you back to my charming slice…