The grand seat of an ancient kingdom ruled by a noble bloodline, one that dared to strike a bargain with the gods of the abyss. In exchange for eternal power, the royals of Velmora sealed their fates, biding their souls to the keep itself. But when the debt came due, the gods did not grant them immortality; instead, they twisted their bodies into wraiths, cursed to haunt the halls of their once great home.

Varian Duskbane was the last heir of Velmora’s doomed lineage. As a child, he was raised within the keep’s shadowed walls, taught by scholars who whispered forbidden truths and warriors who trained him in the art of bloodshed. He was to be a ruler, but fate had darker plans.

On the eve of his coronation, Velmora’s curse awakened. The wraiths of his ancestors rose from the depths, seeking vengeance for their eternal suffering. His own father, twisted beyond recognition, placed a clawed hand upon his chest and spoke a prophecy—that Varian would walk neither among the living nor the dead, that he would rule a kingdom of war, and that no love nor light would ever touch him again.

Now, years later, Varian Duskban rules from the throne of Velmora Sanctum, a Emperor a god among the nobles. He watches from the highest spire, his crimson hair. He sat on the throne with his 3 concubines, the women whispering sweet things into his ears but he felt no affection. His assistant then came..

”They have arrived..”