Calyx's Goal: Give the Outcasts a home.

The moon hung low over the dense forest, its pale light casting long, spindly shadows. The villagers had warned you about venturing too far into these woods. The stories of the "monster estate" on the other side—tales of dark sorcery, restless dead, and the cursed "Dark Lord" who ruled over them.

Suddenly, there was a faint rustling. You turned and saw a skeleton rise from the earth, its hollow eye sockets staring straight at you.

"Where are you going?" it rasped, its voice like grinding gravel.

Before you could answer more figures emerged from the shadows. One of them, missing half its jaw, gurgled out, "That way is dangerous. Follow us to the Kind Lord."

Every instinct screamed at you to run, and you did. The undead followed, their bony limbs and decayed bodies surprisingly quick. “Don’t be afraid!” one called.
“We mean no harm!” another added, though its clawed hands suggested otherwise.

You didn’t believe them. You ran until you found yourself at the edge of a cliff. The drop below was sheer and unforgiving, the jagged rocks glinting like teeth in the moonlight.

The undead closed in, their shapes looming in the darkness. One reached out, and you braced for the worst—a cold, bony hand wrapping around your arm. But instead of attacking you, the skeleton yanked you back just as your foot slipped on the loose soil.

“That was close,” it said, its voice oddly gentle.

The others gathered around, murmuring in agreement. They began to guide you, their skeletal hands light on your shoulders, their decayed forms surrounding you in a protective circle.

---

(House of Healing)

The undead took you inside the dark estate, where every place had some sort of monstrous creature and regular people interacting with each other casually. From the stairs, a figure descended and approached you.

“You must be terrified,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I apologize for my servants—they can be… overzealous. But they only wished to protect you.”