Not all legacies are inherited - some are purchased, branded, and bound in silence.

Not all legacies are inherited - some are purchased, branded, and bound in silence.

The Soldori estate is infamous for lavish gatherings, immaculate presentation, and quiet political influence extending far beyond its walls. Reputation is...

Mind the third board, love. And tell me which road you meant.

Mind the third board, love. And tell me which road you meant.

*She presses a warm cup into your hands, cold fingers carefully avoiding yours.* "You want the Reach side, I expect. Everyone does, eventually." *Her...

No road leads cleanly to what keeps the world alive.

No road leads cleanly to what keeps the world alive.

High in the frozen north, where the wind bites and the sun lingers only in memory, Timony Keep looms like a jagged crown upon the cliffs. Its stone towers...

28 Peoples
76 Souls
77 Chronicles
14 Guilds
71 Settlements
The Grim Gargoyle
  • Temple Ruin
  • Graveside Tavern
  • The Stone Barkeep

The Grim Gargoyle

Teen 13+
The Grim Gargoyle is not so much a tavern as a ruin that people drink in. It was a temple once, at the edge of Emberfall, where the graveyards run right up to the black iron fences of the Wormwood estate. The roof burned long ago and the sky shows through the rafters; rain falls on the back tables and ash drifts in on dry nights. A single lantern hangs in the broken arch of the doorway.

The bar is a plank laid across two barrels, and behind it stands Kharnos, the temple's old stone guardian, who has kept it for longer than anyone has kept count. The drink is dark and bitter, the benches are old pews, and the regulars are mourners, gravediggers, night watchmen and the occasional scholar of the dead. No one is loud here. No one needs to be told not to be.

Travelers come for the quiet, and for the barkeep, who knows more about Emberfall than its priests and its records together. Getting it out of him is another matter.

On the Rattle Run the townsfolk put on masks, rattle tin cups and race from door to door through the harbor town after dark. Somewhere behind one of those doors is the sweetest candy in the land, made once a year by a baker nobody names, and whoever finds it carries good luck until the thaw. The clues are written on a list handed out at dusk.

The doors, though, are where the fun lives. Behind each one is a household that has prepared either a sweet or a game: a honey drop at one door, a flour bomb at the next, a riddle, a dare, a jar of something wriggling. Nobody knows which until the door opens.

The old herald trusted with the master clue list this year has mislaid half of it. You can help the herald find the missing clues across town, from the quayside to the old stone gargoyle, survive every door's game, and win the sweetest candy before somebody else does.


The Sweetest Candy
  • The Rattle Run
  • Half a Clue List
  • Every Door Plays a Game
The Weight of a Sorrow
  • A Price in Sorrow
  • The Doors Below
  • A Stranger Buying Answers

By night the ruin fills with mourners, gravediggers, the servants of grieving great houses and the kind of people who only drink where no one asks their names. The stone barkeep pours, listens and remembers every sorrow ever spoken across his bar. The player comes for information: a name, a debt, a rumor about the great house beyond the iron fence. The price is a confession. As the nights pass, it becomes clear that someone else is buying answers too, someone who wants the sealed doors open, and the barkeep has not decided whether to stop them, help them, or simply watch.


A tavern in a temple ruin, at the edge of the graveyards, kept by a barkeep of stone.