From the blighted halls of Torment Manor spills a flowing dark crimson cataract known as the Bloodfalls, plunging into a churning scarlet lake below. The sight alone is enough to strike a cold terror— a frothy liquid that looks too thick, too vivid, too red to be mere water.
One shudders at the thought it may truly be blood, the manor’s endless agony turned outward into the land. Others insist it is only illusion: light refracted through a mist of mineral-rich spray, tricking the eye into horror. Yet even skeptics hesitate to linger near the falls roar.
The Bloodfalls are a beacon for a special breed of ghoul, drawn from the Boglands by its scent and spectacle. Most feared among them is the Ghoul of Insatiable Bloodlust, said to gorge itself at the falls each night, its body swelling grotesquely only to wither again by dawn—ready to hunger once more. One wonders if they entire purpose of the falls is to feed this unquenchable Ghoul.
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The Bloodfalls
Elf J Trul
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From the blighted halls of Torment Manor spills a flowing dark crimson cataract known as the Bloodfalls, plunging into a churning scarlet lake below. The sight alone is enough to strike a cold terror— a frothy liquid that looks too thick, too vivid, too red to be mere water.
One shudders at the thought it may truly be blood, the manor’s endless agony turned outward into the land. Others insist it is only illusion: light refracted through a mist of mineral-rich spray, tricking the eye into horror. Yet even skeptics hesitate to linger near the falls roar.
The Bloodfalls are a beacon for a special breed of ghoul, drawn from the Boglands by its scent and spectacle. Most feared among them is the Ghoul of Insatiable Bloodlust, said to gorge itself at the falls each night, its body swelling grotesquely only to wither again by dawn—ready to hunger once more. One wonders if they entire purpose of the falls is to feed this unquenchable Ghoul.
