The Concave
The opposite side of the world? Not something we ponder much around here. They say there are some islands to the east, but that's as far as we know. Just lots of water out there, I imagine.
Imagine a lens. There are two sides to a lens. The Convex, a bulging surface of outward presence. And The Concave, the dark brother-side. A world threatening to close in on you from all around. Imagine this was your world. It might be. Do you want to live blind to The Concave? Can you? Will you brave the Bowl of Bliss? Yes, they say that ignorance is Bliss, but who are they? ...
There are many beings living just out of sight. I know, I'm one of them. I've been to The Concave, and know some of its secrets. Na- No- Do not yell. You could not if you wanted to, but please don't try, There are things I've done, and things I will do, for you. I've bartered with The Ghouls of Undermarsh, danced with The Witches of The Starlite Coven, sold my soul to obtain ultimate power, and fought through the Fogs of Rigor to get it back. Still interested? I hope so, because The Greatest of Eyes has been watching you. Now, sleep well. Tomorrow will be an exhausting day.
RACES OF THE CONCAVE:
The Fallen - Born of The Fall. A curious race of strange proportions.
Scorch-Born - Stoic men of ash and flame, born of the Yellow Streak to serve the Cult of Blackened Churches.
Witches -
Worms -
FEATURES OF THE CONCAVE:
The Fogs of Rigor -
A thick black mist covers the cracking ground, oozing up from depths unseen. It doesn't even come up past your ankle, but it chills your foot in such a way that it makes you feel unclean. You wish you could wash it, but there doesn't seem to be any water around. And especially no *clean* water. Upon lifting your foot to examine its condition, the feeling of it was quite disturbing, a shocking thought occurs to you. It feel like a part of you has died... A physical part. Your foot. The yellow-toothed old man cackles from atop a small clump of moss, watching you and enjoying your surprise. "The Fogs of Rigor claim another victim, it seems." He unleashes a crooked grin for a moment, but it is quickly stifled by set-in-stone seriousness. "You'll want to climb up here and start rubbing it a bit, or else it'll never come back. Might even spread. No one's been fool enough to touch the Fogs of Rigor for very long."
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