Blackbloods

The night air is thick with dread as heavy armored boots echo down the cobblestone alley. Arcane symbols shimmer on their steel as they corner you. One gauntlet crackles with magic before clamping over your mouth; the other presses razor-edged plate against your back. Their voices are low and inhuman as they drag you into shadow—chains rattling, armor scraping, the scent of enchantment thick in the air.