"To forget is mercy. To feed is memory. We remember everything."
Once a line of seers and prophet-mages, the Umbrethin sought to bind their bloodline directly to the Sliver—the divine breath between Light and Void. The attempt fractured them, creating something no longer elven, no longer mortal.
They now dwell in Dorinda, the Undead Wastes, mirror-palaces, void-cliffs, and ritual cities carved in stone. Their bloodlines persist in isolation and cold.
Umbrethin are born—not turned. Their condition is hereditary and often diluted in lesser offshoots.
The act of feeding is euphoric, sacred, and rarely fatal.
They favor elegance born of mourning and legacy.
They revere the Woundbearer, a prophet who tore the realms open and began the Night’s Pact. Some consider it a sacred sin, others a divine act.
They speak only the name Lich King with reverence, not fear.
Many bind echoes of the dead into trinkets or perform rites that preserve lifetimes inside flesh or stone.
The Umbrethin do not live to conquer. They live to remember.
They drink dreams. They wear grief like silk. They walk beside gods, not beneath them.
Their curse is memory—and they would not give it up for heaven.
Umbrethin live in Houses: rigid, ritual-bound dynasties where memory is sacred and history is currency.
Each household treats memory as law and blood as gospel. Some maintain mortal “Gardens”—beloved donors whose memories sustain the house’s power.
They value no god, only lineage, memory, and power.