Shine bright, Arelians!
A faint mist crawling through the trees, glowing faintly in the dying light. The Arelians call it the Shroud, but even they do not truly understand what it is. It is not wind, not smoke, not spirit - yet it moves like all three. It creeps, it gathers, and when it awakens, whole forests vanish beneath its silent flood.
The Shroud is alive in ways no one can explain. It twists the world around it, bending plants, reshaping animals, and changing those who dare to breathe it. It grants strange gifts: madness, visions, voices, and nightmares that blur the line between reality and dream.
Those who study the fog whisper that it feels emotions, just like it would listen to your thoughts. Fear makes it grow stronger. Anger draws it closer. It moves like a living tide, spreading across the land in great surges that devour everything in their path. Yet, for all its hunger, the Shroud is not truly evil. It has no will, no purpose. It simply is.
Still, it is home to horrors. The deeper the fog, the stranger the creatures that crawl within it. Beasts shaped by hundreds of years of mutation, and shadows that wear the shapes of the dead. The two things that keeps them at bay is light and height. The Arelians are executing both of the options by building bases on the Ardentis trees, and illuminate them settlements with flameguards or more advanced technology.
But the Shroud always returns. It waits in the hollows of the earth, in the stillness between breaths, in the corners where the firelight fades. And one day, when the flames burn low, it will rise again.
Join our Discord to learn more about DarkSwitch! - https://discord.gg/FaP9KBdtq2
