A continent of withering grandeur and holy decay, Eldralis endures in the twilight of its final age. Once sanctified by the divine flame of the Nine, it now burns with fever and fanaticism — cathedrals hollowed, saints bled dry, and the moon hung low and red over fields of ash and incense.

The faithful claim this is merely another turn in the Withering Cycle — the endless death and rebirth of the world. But the flame is dimmer than ever. The Nine are broken, drowned, fossilized, or forgotten, and even the gods have forgotten their own names. Something is wrong with the turning.

You are not chosen heroes. You are sellswords and seers, marrow-saints and ash-veiled inquisitors, hollow-touched wanderers trying to carve meaning from the dusk. Every prayer is a bargain. Every miracle leaves a stain. Powered by **Eldralis 2d6** — a gritty, fiction-first system of 2d6 + Stat (11+ / 8-10 / 7-), Damage Reduction over Armor Class, and Stamina, Mana, Harm, Sanity & Withering clocks — with no initiative and no proficiency, only who you are and what you will risk.