Our focus begins on a small group of hunters in the First North; traveling between the towns and hamlets of The Isle they scour the grassy knolls and flowered plains searching for traces of the most occult tales.
From white, sandy shores to blasted cliffs; petrified forests and black obsidian fields; quiet tribal hamlets in the shadow of the mountains and bustling metropolitan towns hovering over rivers; to the grime and dirt of the farmland hovel and the opulent, velvety estates of their lords, The Isle bears many faces. Each home within its shores holds the responsibility for the peace of her families.
In this land, Men are more likely than Beast to destroy one another and the ravenous forces of nature are more deadly than the strongest man. Bitter winter is more ravenous than Steel; flash floods demolish monuments more savagely than hands; and the harvest is crueler than any Tyrant. Between the vitriol of man and the violence of nature, The Isle is sodden with troubles, but all is not lost.
The Isle is a land praying for those of bold and steadfast resolve to investigate the mysteries that plagues Their people.
Disappearances of children in the night; able-bodied, young men found dead in their beds; women attacked in their homes and on streets, flesh torn from their faces; townspeople drained of blood and left for crows in the fields; rats swarm the streets in droves devouring anything in sight. In most fantasies, these hauntings would be normal, but in The Isle these are nightmares of an otherworldly nature.
Only the Blooded stand between that which binds and that which transcends. Blooded are men and women of the Isle; their souls bound to it by the Firstborn who whispered their names and breathed life into being. Only Blooded experience the oblique nature of the world, their existence seeks it out to smother it.
You are Blooded. Welcome to The Isle.