Grave Company
Ashes. Echoes. Oaths.
Grave Company is the last oath sworn in the WRAITH Realm — a faction of ghost-burdened warriors who remember every fall, every failure, and every name lost to time. They do not glide. They tread. They do not erase. They endure.
Their missions are not planned — they are inherited. Passed down through bloodlines, carved into stone, whispered by the bones beneath their feet. Grave Company are the bearers of memory, the ritual-bound revenants who rise not for glory, but because they must.
To wear their mark is to carry weight — of history, of silence, of promises made underground.
It is to walk with ghosts and know that some wars never end.
Role in the Realm
POWER
They don’t rush.
They arrive — with the weight of centuries and the force of inevitability.
Grave Company is the raw, anchored strength of the WraithRealm — built on ritual, resilience, and ruin. While others move fast or loud, they move through. Every step is a vow. Every strike is history reclaiming its place.
They don’t chase chaos.
They command it — and bury what’s left.
If you feel the ground shift, it’s not fear.
It’s them — returning.
DEADBEAT
Role:
Ghoul-Skeleton Commander (Squad Leader)
Style:
Cracked hoodie mask, exposed ribplate, motivational slogans scribbled on his bones
Signature Move:
Grave Rally — Slams fists into the dirt and calls fallen echoes to rise for one last swing.
Bio:
Leads like a coach from the underworld. Equal parts unkillable and unshakeable. Carries a whistle made from his old femur. Shouts tactical plays that somehow rhyme.
Vibe:
Scrappy, sarcastic, borderline inspirational. Thinks he’s retired. Absolutely isn’t.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, psychic residue, and the occasional intercepted whisper.)
Stealth: 5/10
Bones creak. Whistle blows. Not subtle.
Speed: 6/10
Surprisingly quick for a pile of leftovers.
Chaos: 8/10
Screaming skeletons and bone whistles? Yes.
Intellect: 9/10
Tactical genius, if you can keep up with the slogans.
Sarcasm: 10/10
Motivates with mockery. Coach of the cursed.
Power: 8/10
Swings like a demolition crew with unfinished business.
Style: 6/10
Bone-chic meets corpse-core.
Loyalty: 10/10
Would literally raise the dead for his team.
FANGZ
Role:
Werewolf Frontal Assault
Style:
Torn hoodie, chained joggers, graffiti-tagged fur, glowing fanged grin
Signature Move:
Lunar Lunge — Air-launches through enemies in a bladed spin that ends with a howl.
Bio:
Lives for impact. Sniffs out fights from three zones away. Definitely bit a drone once. Doesn’t care if you think he’s unstable — he prefers unleashed.
Vibe:
Loud, unpredictable, loyal to a fault. The kind of guy who knocks down the door after the team already phased through the wall.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, psychic residue, and the occasional intercepted whisper.)
Stealth: 3/10
Growls in his sleep. Not ideal.
Speed: 9/10
Launches like a missile, lands like a riot.
Chaos: 10/10
Blades, fangs, spin moves — he is the chaos.
Intellect: 5/10
Street smart but not exactly the plan guy.
Sarcasm: 4/10
Growls more than he jokes.
Power: 10/10
Full-send force. Breaks walls and expectations.
Style: 8/10
Hooded beast-chic with rage accessories.
Loyalty: 7/10
Bite-first, ask questions never.
VISUAL IDENTITY
Primary Colour:
Neon Red
Core Elements:
Tattered robes, skeletal layering, scorched fabrics, distressed textures, ritual embellishments
Design Motifs:
Flickering red sigils, bone-strapped accessories, fragmented glyphs, flame-scorched hems, trench-cut silhouettes
Tone:
Ritual. Worn. Eternal.
CRYPTIC
Role:
Mummy Recon and Traps Specialist
Style:
Graffiti-sprayed ancient wraps, mismatched trainers, tactical satchel stitched from tomb cloth
Signature Move:
Bind Break — Sets layered traps that trip, bind, and echo-detonate like a haunted Rube Goldberg machine.
Bio:
The silent trap-master of Grave Company. Cryptic doesn’t talk much — his glyphs do that for him. Always lurking three steps ahead, leaving hexed snares in places you didn’t even walk through. Might be cursed. Might be cursed on purpose. Rumour has it, he once trapped a whole team in their own thoughts — took them days to escape the existential dread.
Vibe:
Still. Sharp. Possibly embalmed. Has ancient wisdom and modern pettiness in equal measure.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, cursed hieroglyphs, and mysterious sand trails.)
Stealth: 9/10
Barely makes a sound. Might be a mirage.
Speed: 6/10
Not fast — but you’ll hit the trap before he even blinks.
Chaos: 7/10
Traps, glyphs, and surprise explosions. Classic Cryptic.
Intellect: 10/10
Can read Spiral glyphs that don’t even exist yet.
Sarcasm: 7/10
Quiet burns. Tomb-dry wit.
Power: 6/10
Doesn’t punch hard. Doesn’t need to. You’ll trip and punch yourself.
Style: 7/10
Cursed vintage. Tomb-core drip.
Loyalty: 9/10
Would curse the ground for you — or under you, depending.
SHADE
Role:
Vampire Stealth & Shock Striker
Style:
Black jacket, mist-soaked shades, blood-wink grin, boots heavy enough to silence doubt.
Signature Move:
Miststep — Disappears into vapor mid-sentence, reappears behind you mid-slash. Smooth. Silent. Surgical.
Bio:
He doesn’t talk much — mostly because he’s already behind you. Shade hunts like a rumour: you hear about him after. Always calm, never kind. Blinks are optional. Remorse is nonexistent. His playlist is just organ music and people whispering “what was that?”
Vibe:
Cold, patient, perfectly dressed for a funeral — usually yours.
Moves like an omen. Strikes like it was personal.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on psychic echoes, motion blur, and surviving witnesses.)
Stealth: 10/10
Mist. Silence. Vanishing mid-insult.
Speed: 9/10
Doesn’t run. He just arrives.
Chaos: 6/10
Precision over panic. But the aftermath? Still messy.
Intellect: 8/10
Always calculating. Already finished the plan you just started.
Sarcasm: 7/10
Dry. Deadpan. Sharp enough to leave a mark.
Power: 7/10
Doesn’t need to break the door. Just appears in your reflection.
Style: 10/10
Eternal drip. If timeless cool wore fangs, it’d look like this.
Loyalty: 6/10
Won’t die for you. Might kill for you. Big difference.
Home City
Hollow Deep
The Hollow Deep isn’t built — it’s buried. A sunless stretch of catacombs and trenches, overgrown with moss and soaked in the breath of something old. It wasn’t carved by tools, but by time, collapse, and the slow grind of forgotten rituals. The further you go, the colder it gets — not from temperature, but from memory.
Red sigils glow faintly along crumbling stone walls, pulsing like dying embers in a grave. Flames flicker inside rusted lanterns that haven’t been touched in decades. Stairwells descend without end. Bones line the paths like boundary markers. Here, Grave Company doesn’t patrol — they linger. They stalk through tunnels like echoes looking for a voice. Every crypt holds a secret. Every torch-lit corridor feels watched.
Graffiti doesn’t reach this deep. Instead, the Hollow Deep wears reminders: ritual scarring, burn marks in spiral shapes, names etched into stone by hands that no longer exist. This place isn’t for stories — it is one. And it’s still being written with each buried soul and each silent oath.
At the center lies the Spiral Cradle — a collapsed temple wrapped in root and ruin. From here, Grave Company listens to the voices that rise through the stone. They don’t chant. They don’t rally. They just nod — and dig deeper.
To outsiders, The Hollow Deep is a tomb.
To Grave Company, it’s where the Spiral still breathes — and where the dead are never truly done.
Environment:
Subterranean catacombs, sunless trenches, moss-covered ruins
Visuals:
Red sigils glowing from underground crypts, fog creeping upward
Vibe:
Gritty, primal, ancient — where the Spiral breathes its oldest breath
Lore Hook:
The deeper you go, the more voices you hear. Some are yours. Some… aren’t.