The demon core: an external phylactery of heart and soul that anchors a demon lord's immortality, feeds on what the lord deems worthy, and empowers rituals and summons through proper sacrifice. Narrative-only — no tracked pools; the GM adjudicates feeding, rebirth, and destruction scene by scene. See the Rule 'Demon Core System' and the Player's Handbook chapter 'The Demon Lord's Core'.

The Arisen class package: grants the Will pool — a reserve of sheer willpower spent to manipulate fate, defy death, and bend reality.

Murt the dusk child remembers the night she followed the traders from the closing bazaar to the bonfire — not to train, but to witness — and what she saw when the flames rose: the founders' skulls watching from the elder house's door, looking out at the fire as if the dead and the flame were the same audience. She has never told anyone, because a child who has seen the founders watching is a child the elders watch too. The memory sits in her pouch with the goods, kept quiet the way the bazaar keeps its bright-fire nights.

Outskirts Elder Marr remembers every name on her private roll — forty-three neighbors vanished across her fifty years, each cluster of vanishings matching a night the wagons came. The memory is the map of her life's vigilance: the winters of the thin soup, the nights she has counted the wagons' passes, the faces she has fed and lost. She has kept the roll in the pot, under the thin soup, where the Vigil cannot see it — and every name is still in her head, in order, the way a woman keeps the names of the dead when the dead are the only complete record she is allowed to hold.

Maren Wey remembers every family who has come to her stall unable to pay — and she hides a portion of her flour for them, setting it aside before the day's baking so that the bread is there when they need it. The memory is the quiet heart of the market's gossip hub: her stall is where the town's news gathers, and it is also where the town's need is met without a word. She has never once mentioned the hidden flour to anyone, because the bread that costs nothing is only true if it is never spoken of.

Kestrel remembers the day she decided her sister would never know what she did for a living — the day she quietly supplemented Mirelle's merit scholarship with her first three years of enforcement earnings, and the day she swore to keep the name off every ledger in Grandallia. The memory is the load-bearing wall of her life: every repossession, every scarred-knuckle fight, every 'exactly what the contract demands' is paid for by the image of Mirelle studying astral magic at the Academy, innocent of the city her sister keeps.

Tracks how Faln Stirme's actions affect his public reputation. No old-mill outcome or reward has been recorded in this run.

Wolf and Zoltan share drinks, demon stories, and genuine respect at Silverbolt Lodge — friendship edged with professional caution.

Gynevra and Wolf share an ironic professional respect — the witch-hunter and the werewolf who both hate the night's monsters.

Gynevra and Silas are cordial acquaintances — she respects his loyalty, he finds her bluntness refreshing, and neither expects more.

Most pirates go pale when the iron-grey silhouette appears — Blackjack just laughs, taps his hook on his tankard, and calls Seos a boy in a mask playing mage with the Duchess's purse.

A genre-neutral baseline for characters, resources, advancement, conditions, and power scale. Creators may replace any definition without rebuilding the Character type.