A Civilization Built on Ruins
The multiverse is infinite, and most worlds are isolated — separated by barriers no being can cross alone. Only dimensional portals bridge the void. And it is through those portals that history's greatest crime left its mark.
“A library-world pillaged by those who called themselves gods. Its scholars stripped of their souls and set adrift as memory-stealing specters. The survivors of a dozen ravaged worlds sought refuge on those very ruins — and built something new. Today, they walk unknowingly above the graves of their own oppressors. And the specters have come home.”
The Harvesters
Incorporeal specters shaped by the memories they have stolen — no two look alike. A Harvester that absorbed the knowledge of a runic mage evokes floating flames and scripts. One that pillaged a warrior's dojo moves with the precision of a blade. They speak in many voices, contradictory and fragmented: the voices of everyone they have consumed.
The most material. Fragile physical presence — they can be struck, though their blows sometimes pass through ordinary armor. Operate in groups, harvest by contact.
Semi-incorporeal. They channel harvest rituals — circles traced in air, disembodied chants, long-range mental capture. Their ritual must be broken before they can be harmed.
Purely incorporeal. Their mere presence passively dememorizes nearby living beings. Cannot be harmed by ordinary weapons — only Ancient artifacts, specific rituals, or memory-bound spells.
“To die before a Harvester is to die twice.”
The Sanctuary
Once the great library-world of the multiverse, the Sanctuary was ravaged millennia ago and left in silence. Refugees from a hundred dying worlds have since rebuilt a mosaic civilization upon its ruins — unaware of what lies beneath.
The Harvesters
Incorporeal specters that steal memory, history, and knowledge from living beings. No two look alike — each is shaped by what it has consumed. They vanished for generations. Now they return to the Sanctuary for the second time.
The Truth
The Harvesters are not a natural enemy. They are a tragic weapon — ancient scholars whose souls were torn from their bodies by those who believed knowledge belongs only to the worthy. To kill a Harvester is to free a prisoner.