She walked between the realms with grace, a stunning creature born from two separate worlds. read more The sacred forests of her father's world enveloped her with warm breezes and the sweet scent of blooming flora. Yet, she also yearned for the contemporary world, a place of bustling energy and concrete giants that pierced the sky.
Torn between her two homes, she longed for a balance. Would she ever truly belong her place in either world, or was she destined to always remain a girl of two worlds?
A Half-Orc Hunter's Bane
The half-orc hunter stands a solitary path, driven by a thirst for revenge. His eyes are cold, reflecting the loss that fueled his vendetta. He/She wields instruments of combat with deadly accuracy. His missions are fervent, leaving a path of defeat in their wake.
Few/Many/Some dare to cross his way/path/journey. He is an echo in the night, striking with swiftness. His legend/name/fame spreads like poison, a omen to those who stand/remain/dwell in his way.
A Wild Heart Roars in the Borderlands
In a dimension where stars barely reach, the buried secrets of the wasteland whisper on the wind. Here, legendary beings roam free, hunted by a force both magnificent. A lone hero stands against the tide, their fierce spirit a beacon in the darkness. They seek truth, unaware that their path is chosen to collide with forces greater than themselves.
Phantasms of a Claws
Deep within the
swamps, where mists cling like ghostly shrouds and ancient trees croak secrets to the wind, lie clans of unspeakable dread. These are the vestiges of a bygone era, blighted by an insidious presence known as the Fang.
Legends speak of its relentless hunt, leaving all in its trail. Priests brave enough to stumble into these darkened woods often perish, their fates unknown. Some say that the Fang is a mere
myth spun by firelight, designed to deter the unwary. Others believe it to be a very real menace, its grip on this land tightening with each passing day.
The Warden of the Thicket
Deep within the ancient grove, where sunlight barely reaches the floor, dwells a entity known as the Warden. It is a protector soul bound to preserve the Wildwood's mysteries. Legends are told through generations about his shape, some describing a majestic beast. Others say it is a spectral entity, capable the power to shape the forest.
The Warden's purpose remains unknown. Some believe it watches over the Wildwood from outside threats, while others believe it is a guardian of harmony.
Sanguine and Wood
The forest held its breath, a stillness that whispered of ancient secrets. A chill wind snaked through the gnarled trees, rustling leaves like whispers of warning. Deep in its heart, where sunlight struggled to pierce the dense canopy, lay a trail etched with the evidence of violence. Sanguine, thick and viscous, pooled around a shattered timber stump, a testament to a struggle fierce. The scent hung heavy in the air, a sickening hallucination that promised both terror and fascination. A lone crow perched on a nearby branch, its obsidian eyes gleaming with an unsettling intelligence as it surveyed the scene. Its caw echoed through the silent woods, a chilling sign to the darkness hidden. The forest floor was littered with broken branches and scattered leaves, disturbed by unseen tracks. The air itself seemed to vibrate with a palpable dread. This was no ordinary clearing; this was where the veil between worlds thinned, where the lines between death blurred.