The Drearborn

Lurking in the shadowed cracks of forgotten places, the Drearborn is a horrifying monster whispered about in hushed tones across generations. Its form is never quite the same—an ever-shifting silhouette of bone, tendons, and rot—but its presence is unmistakable: the air grows colder, the walls weep black ichor, and time feels slower around it. It feeds on sorrow and memory, drawing strength from long-held grief. For centuries it has followed bloodlines, appearing once every few decades to claim another soul, always leaving behind silence, madness, and the scent of earth after rain and decay. No one knows where it came from—only that it never truly leaves.