The Hollow Choir 5
The Hollow Choir stands as a cabal of contradictions, where scholars of forbidden lore rub shoulders with carnival grotesques, and creatures of flesh, bone, and shadow unite under the banner of power, no matter the cost. Their ranks are stitched together from aristocrats turned occultists, monsters wearing human skin, and wanderers who traded sanity for knowledge. To gaze upon them is to confront the uncanny: familiar shapes made strange, human impulses warped into something darker. They are not simply a faction; they are a requiem of the bizarre, harmonizing intellect, cruelty, and mystery into a single chilling chorus.
Magnus Brimstone
Magnus Brimstone is a towering symbol of power; wealthy, well-dressed, and utterly immovable. Like a living fortress, his body is compact and muscular, his presence commanding in boardroom or battlefield alike. Though his tiny horns and ruined eyes spark whispers of demonic heritage, Magnus is no devil, only a wizard who has bent both commerce and arcane knowledge to his will. He thrives on control, shaping empires with the same ease he might snap an opponent in two. When he strides into a room in his pinstriped suit, cane tapping against the floor, the air itself seems to bend beneath the weight of his authority.
Deklan Splint
Deklan Splint is an enigma given form; a silent mercenary whose contracts are carried out with chilling detachment. His stitched visage and bizarre form suggest a man remade, though his precise origins remain unknown. Whether tasked with the destruction of an entire hamlet or the retrieval of a delicate heirloom, Deklan approaches each job with the same surgical efficiency, his disinterest in motive or morality making him a terrifying force to employ. His unsettling gait and stitched, doll-like face leave the impression that he’s less a man than a puppet of some darker will.
Cleave Morrain
Cleave Morrain is a wanderer of haunted landscapes and lost histories. Shrouded in ragged layers and burdened with a massive blade, he drifts between ruins, searching for knowledge buried in the bones of the world. A seeker of forgotten alchemy and cosmic truths, Cleave is equal parts scholar and predator, unearthing secrets that were perhaps better left untouched. His wild hair and red-glowing eyes peer out from behind his scarf, giving the impression of a ghost hunter already half-claimed by the horrors he chases.
Percival Brasswhistle
With all the charm of a southern gentleman, Percival Brasswhistle greets the world in polished brass and crimson velvet, tipping his hat with a courtly grin. Yet beneath the theatrics lies something more grotesque: a man who has remade his flesh into a machine not only for power, but for pleasure. His mechanical body is an extension of a fetish, a perverse fascination with artifice that has consumed him. Percival delights in the creak of gears and the hiss of steam, savoring his own transformation as though it were a decadent indulgence. His jovial laughter and gallant mannerisms distract from the truth: Brasswhistle is a deviant aristocrat whose obsession with machinery is as hedonistic as it is horrifying.
The Veilwalker
The Veilwalker is a creature of riddles and bargains, its pale, skeletal form adorned with the mocking mask of a jester. Drifting in from the shadows of another realm, it deals in names, contracts, and the perilous balance of favors. Every word it speaks is barbed with hidden meaning, every gift poisoned with consequence. To parley with the Veilwalker is to invite misfortune, yet its knowledge is so vast that many are willing to risk ruin to hear its terms. Its spindly frame moves with unnatural grace, as if it’s half-dancing through conversations no one else can hear.
Thus ends our descent into the Hollow Choir’s macabre menagerie: a fellowship of demons, outcasts, and visionaries bound by death’s riddle and the hunger for dominion. Yet the Choir is but one voice in a larger symphony. Beyond their gothic shadows lies a faction bathed in radiant light, the dreamers and idealists who dare to inspire where others sow fear. Next, we ascend into the skies to meet The Empyrean, paragons of hope and splendor, though even their brilliance hides shadows of its own.