The Dawnroad
Where everyone starts: a lantern, a road, and no god at all. You are a Wayfarer until you decide not to be, and some people never decide.
Nine painted places sit along the Dawnroad. Your first stop is Suncradle, the hill town where all seven gods keep a hall. The last one is underground, in the part of the world the gods closed on purpose.
Each god’s followers are an order, and every order keeps a hall in Suncradle: a gatehouse, a library, a forge, a kennel. The masters inside will talk to you long before you swear anything.
Where everyone starts: a lantern, a road, and no god at all. You are a Wayfarer until you decide not to be, and some people never decide.
The town on the hill. All seven orders keep a hall here, which means all seven arguments happen within walking distance of each other.
The Gatehouse, the Leaning Spire, the Hunt Lodge, the Chapel of the Dawnhearth, the Hushdoor, the Emberhold, the Kennel-Lodge. Go and sit in them before you swear.
The table where the seven still meet. It has eight places. It always will, and nobody moves the eighth chair.
Not every creature is an enemy. Wall-runts stack themselves into little walls; pack-pups adopt you, not the other way round.
Below everything, something is sealed. The Moonveil keep one rumour about it that they will not repeat.

Where the light landed thickest and stayed. Wall-runts stack themselves into little walls here and knock them down again. Nothing in Bloomvale wants to hurt you, which is why it is where you learn.

The bridge-town where the Brightwater runs under you and the lamps are lit before dusk out of habit rather than need. Tideglass is recovered here, and something under the crossing keeps taking it back.

The road up to Ignivar's quarter, warm underfoot the whole way. Sparks that escaped the forge live in the hedgerows and try, badly, to finish themselves into machines.

Not a building. The whole forge quarter. You cannot hear yourself think and nobody minds. Your first oath-token is hammered out here, and it is meant to come out ugly.

Where the afternoon stops arriving. The Moonveil work this stretch and do not explain themselves; the gloomlings that nest here relay each other, so cornering one means breaking the chain first.

A vault-mouth leaks here, and the world around it tarnishes: gilt gone wrong on bright creatures. Carry the last light through the rootwall and something at the bottom is waiting to be introduced.

A midday that went out and never came back on. The host that marches here marches in the wrong direction, and reversing it is the whole fight.

One mile of road with no lamp on it. Every order sends people down it eventually and none of them agree afterwards about what the trial actually tested.

Down. Past the roots, past where the light was ever meant to reach, into the part of the world the seven closed on purpose. This is where the Minted are, and nothing down here is fond of you.
There are thirty-two creatures out there, and most of them are harmless. Wall-runts stack themselves into little walls, and pack-pups adopt you rather than the other way round.
































| Family | What it is | What it tests |
|---|---|---|
| The Wallbrood Aegemar · the Wallsworn | Stone that took the instruction too literally. Things that were told to hold a line and never told to stop. | whether your party can break a guard |
| The Marginalia Caelendra · the Starspire | What crawls out of the margins of a world that was written down. Corrections nobody asked for. | interrupts and status cleansing |
| The Overgrowth Sylvara · the Wildhunt | The green that grew past its own plan. Nothing here is malicious; it simply has no intention of stopping. | area damage and staying mobile |
| The Dawnwake Aurelith · the Dawnflame | A morning that refuses to end. Light with no night behind it burns everything evenly, including you. | anti-heal, or a very good burn window |
| The Hushed Vesperine · the Moonveil | A mercy that overstayed. Sleep that does not lift, quiet that swallows a song. They never look violent, which is the problem. | revealing, cleansing, and your mana bar |
| The Sparkstray Ignivar · the Emberforge | Escaped sparks that found scrap. Half-finished machines still trying to finish themselves. | taunts. This is the family that teaches you what one is for |
| The Unbonded Fenriel · the Packsworn | Loyalty with nothing on the other end. A pup still following someone who left. The softest creatures in the game. | whether you brought a companion of your own |
| Name | Kind | Why |
|---|---|---|
| Grannock, the Gate That Fell | Order boss · the Wallsworn | The only gate Aegemar ever lost, still trying to close. |
| The Misread Word | Order boss · the Starspire | Something the world wrote down wrong and then obeyed. |
| Bramblecrown | Order boss · the Wildhunt | A crown of thorns wearing the wood that grew it. |
| Aurent, the Unended Morning | Order boss · the Dawnflame | Dawn with nothing after it. Nothing you heal stays healed. |
| The Long Kindness | Order boss · the Moonveil | It is only trying to let you rest. It will not take no. |
| The Masterwork | Order boss · the Emberforge | Ignivar's finest piece, and it has opinions about being finished. |
| Oathfang | Order boss · the Packsworn | A bond whose other half never came back. |
| Kettlemaw, the Walking Forge | World boss | It wanders, it eats metal, and it is always somewhere. |
| Verdanthollow, the Fifth Season | World boss | A season the calendar does not have. |
| The Tarnished Herald | World boss | It carries a message from below. Nobody wants it read. |
Each order boss is one boss at the bottom of its own hall dungeon, and beating it finishes your order’s story. Here is how dungeons work.