in the valley of the mist

Crestless and without ties to any of the other known orders, the wandering knights follow their own goals. They are altruistic civilian individuals whom decided to take up armor and weapon, leaving family and name behind in their lonely crusade for the greater good.

Driven by an indomitable will to ward against the creatures of the mist they wander tirelessly from settlement to settlement to aid those in need - to spill their own blood in the place of the innocent.

They are loved by the people - sometimes nearing an eerie disposition of adoration that can’t quite be explained. Just the promise of help seems enough to drive people into a celebratory frenzy… Something the knights of the other orders are rare to see, despite their efforts.

No one can remember when the first one showed up, or how many there are - or has been. The name of Grey is given by the people as the knights themselves claim to be without names.

Though possessing no witching trickery of the mist, they have the uncanny ability to sense the presence of those that do - making them invaluable tools during witch-hunts.

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Mists of Gulfoss Waterfall, Iceland

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Wielding holy artifacts of the old world - like guardians of a forgotten time - the saints of the order of Our Sacred Chalice scour the mist in search of relics and wisdom which survived the war of the Great Horrors.

Mysterious and secretive, each saint is a nation of their own, but with unswerving loyalty to each other and their common goal. They are the dedicated keepers of the holy relics and leaders of their devoted retinues of acolytes - orphan children put in service of the greater good. Be it changelings, giants or human. Saints rarely operate near settlements, so the taboos aren’t as strict.

Life is grim for both acolyte and saint as they often travel uncharted territories in the mist in search of more secrets. No matter what - a saint is not allowed to die. Should their life be threatened, it will be artificially extended through painful, esoteric medical procedures to a degree well beyond what a human body should tolerate. No acolyte would allow their saint to be hurt and would sacrifice their own life without hesitation - as few wish to become the next saint, should their own die.

Above them all is the relic itself. No life is worth more than it’s safety. Both saint and acolytes are deeply trained in its function, care and operation. Should a saint die, an acolyte will pick it up and become the new Saint. Should a Saint find a new relic, it will be brought back to the order’s citadel for study. If it is still operational, an acolyte befitting it’s criteria will be chosen to become its saint - and so the order grows.

Like a holy congregation, the saints of the Order of Our Sacred Chalice gathers at their citadel deep underground in an ancient mine where they keep their secrets safe and heavily fortified. No one knows how many silver tower bells they have in their possession as no chime has ever been heard. Yet still, the monsters of the mist stay clear and out of their territory.

Who knows what secret binds them together so religiously.

Canyonlands National Park sits under the desert sun nearly every day, but in the early morning hours when the air is cool and the sun is rising, a majestic glow of indigo filled this Utah valley with mist. The iconic Airport Tower can be seen in the distance, standing just behind the Washer Woman Arch. Photo courtesy of Sam Koerbel. 

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They call it “Blue Hole” or Wai'ale'ale Crater…a depression caused by the meeting of two erosional valleys… ⛰