What they are

Long, thin shapes of black thread that fly low along the spine of the world, their tails streaming out behind them. They have no faces to speak of, only two cold points of light where eyes should be.

The forest that runs down the spine of the world is a line of stitches, sown by the menders to hold the seam shut. The wraiths are the ones pulling them out. Where a wraith has worked, a Tree of Ebbs goes grey and hollow, its roots loose across the seam, its sleeping face drawn.

Every hollowed Tree is a stitch being pulled. The wraiths are the hands that pull them.

Who they serve

The wraiths serve the Author, whoever is writing the sins into the Reach. They did not bring the sins. The sins came first, and the wraiths came after, to open the seam the menders had spent twenty thousand years closing. When enough stitches gave way, the Reach was sundered.

Where they are

Unlike the goblins and trolls, the wraiths never crossed into the waking world. They roam the Sundered Reach, along the line of the Trees.

Connections