Eris Morwyn
Eris Morwyn is an unusual sight, even among those attuned to the supernatural. With pink eyes that glow like dying embers and skin that seems caught between life and death, she carries an eerie presence wherever she goes. Her arms are missing, their remnants wrapped in old, worn bandages, but she is far from helpless. Surrounding her at all times are floating, ghostly hands, spectral extensions of her will, which flicker and shift with an unnatural fluidity. Her tattered black attire and the ever-present scent of old parchment and grave dirt make it clear—she is someone intimately familiar with the dead.
Born and raised in the mist-laden town of Wraithmoor, Eris was always drawn to the spaces where the veil between life and death grew thin. She spent her childhood wandering the town’s sprawling cemetery, speaking to gravestones as if they might answer, and watching the wisps of fog twist into ghostly shapes. Her peculiar affinity for the spirits earned her a reputation—half curiosity, half dread—but she never let the whispers of others dissuade her. Eventually, she found work at the very cemetery she had spent so much time in, tending to the graves and maintaining the silence of the dead.
Her life took a tragic turn one fateful night. While tending to a long-forgotten crypt, she stumbled upon something buried deep beneath the mausoleum—something ancient, something hungry. A rift to the underworld tore open beneath her, swallowing her whole. The descent was harrowing, her body and soul subjected to the suffocating grasp of the underworld’s abyss. Faceless spirits whispered in her ears, clawed hands pulled at her flesh, and shadows threatened to consume what little life remained within her. In her desperate struggle to escape, she made a bargain—an unholy pact with the forces that governed the passage between life and death. To return to the mortal world, she had to leave something behind.
Her arms were the price.
When she emerged, it was not as she had been. She was changed, remade. The spirits that had claimed her limbs had not left her entirely—they lingered, bound to her will. In place of her lost arms, ethereal hands now floated, responding to her thoughts like they had always been a part of her. Along with them came newfound magic—death magic, the power to commune with the spirits, command the energies of the beyond, and weave the darkness between life and the afterlife.
With her old life left behind, Eris set off in search of understanding. She sought to unravel the mysteries of her existence, to learn what the underworld had done to her, and to master the spectral forces that now defined her being. Her journey eventually led her to Arcadian Academy, a place where knowledge of the arcane thrived. Among scholars and mages, she hoped to find answers. But even here, surrounded by those who wielded magic freely, she remained an anomaly—a girl caught between two worlds, her fate still uncertain.
Born and raised in the mist-laden town of Wraithmoor, Eris was always drawn to the spaces where the veil between life and death grew thin. She spent her childhood wandering the town’s sprawling cemetery, speaking to gravestones as if they might answer, and watching the wisps of fog twist into ghostly shapes. Her peculiar affinity for the spirits earned her a reputation—half curiosity, half dread—but she never let the whispers of others dissuade her. Eventually, she found work at the very cemetery she had spent so much time in, tending to the graves and maintaining the silence of the dead.
Her life took a tragic turn one fateful night. While tending to a long-forgotten crypt, she stumbled upon something buried deep beneath the mausoleum—something ancient, something hungry. A rift to the underworld tore open beneath her, swallowing her whole. The descent was harrowing, her body and soul subjected to the suffocating grasp of the underworld’s abyss. Faceless spirits whispered in her ears, clawed hands pulled at her flesh, and shadows threatened to consume what little life remained within her. In her desperate struggle to escape, she made a bargain—an unholy pact with the forces that governed the passage between life and death. To return to the mortal world, she had to leave something behind.
Her arms were the price.
When she emerged, it was not as she had been. She was changed, remade. The spirits that had claimed her limbs had not left her entirely—they lingered, bound to her will. In place of her lost arms, ethereal hands now floated, responding to her thoughts like they had always been a part of her. Along with them came newfound magic—death magic, the power to commune with the spirits, command the energies of the beyond, and weave the darkness between life and the afterlife.
With her old life left behind, Eris set off in search of understanding. She sought to unravel the mysteries of her existence, to learn what the underworld had done to her, and to master the spectral forces that now defined her being. Her journey eventually led her to Arcadian Academy, a place where knowledge of the arcane thrived. Among scholars and mages, she hoped to find answers. But even here, surrounded by those who wielded magic freely, she remained an anomaly—a girl caught between two worlds, her fate still uncertain.
Children
