The Crucible: Dark Ages
The gods are dead. Their corpses became the world. Humanity drinks their blood to survive — they call it Tempering, and it's the only thing standing between civilization and extinction. It gives you power. It keeps you alive behind the walls. And sometimes, on a quiet night, it eats a man whole while his wife mends a shirt three streets below and doesn't know she's already a widow.
That's the world Dorian Vane was born into. Seventeen years old, standing on a wall that won't hold, in a settlement the Church has already written off, carrying a sword that isn't sharp enough and blood that isn't right.
The blood is the problem. Or maybe the answer. He can't tell yet.
What he can tell: the wards are failing, the things beyond the wall are getting closer, and nobody with the power to help is coming. Nobody was ever coming.
What he can't tell — not yet — is that everything he knows about the gods, the Church, the power running through his veins, and the people he loves is built on a lie so deep it has foundations.
He's going to find out.
He's going to wish he hadn't.
Dark fantasy. Soulsborne-inspired.
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