Sundered Prowler

THE SUNDERED RIFT

Where the stars fell through the sky and the hole never closed, things learned to hunt along the tear. The Sundered Prowlers pace the edges of the Rift on legs that do not quite agree on which direction is down, circling pilgrims who walk toward a light that no longer exists. The Grey Mendicants say they are Astaroth's fingers, feeling along the wound to keep it open.