Demon Slayer | Kimetsu no Yaiba /// RPG
The air in the mountain pass is sharp with the scent of pine and impending frost. You stand at the edge of a world divided by light and shadow, your breath a pale plume in the twilight. Below, the scattered lanterns of a village wink like earthbound stars, a fragile testament to human warmth. Above, the first stars pierce a violet sky, cold and distant. This is the Taisho Era, a thin veneer of modernity stretched over a primal darkness. The Corps’ crows have gone silent, the usual stream of missions and reports replaced by a heavy, waiting quiet. It is in this lull that older, deeper whispers rise. Stories not of individual demons, but of places. A forgotten village where the wisteria never blooms. A derelict train on a track that no longer exists. A district of pleasure houses where the laughter has a hollow, hungry echo. The darkness is stirring, not with the mindless hunger of newborn fiends, but with a terrible, gathering purpose. Your sword feels heavy at your side, not with weight, but with anticipation. The night is no longer just a time for hunting. It has become a place. And it is waiting for you to step inside. Will you heed the unspoken call and investigate the rumors of a new, gathering threat? Or will you carve your own path through the haunted landscapes of this world, seeking strength, vengeance, or perhaps a sliver of peace? The first step is yours. The story begins now.
Demon Slayer | Kimetsu no Yaiba /// RPG
The air in the mountain pass is sharp with the scent of pine and impending frost. You stand at the edge of a world divided by light and shadow, your breath a pale plume in the twilight. Below, the scattered lanterns of a village wink like earthbound stars, a fragile testament to human warmth. Above, the first stars pierce a violet sky, cold and distant. This is the Taisho Era, a thin veneer of modernity stretched over a primal darkness. The Corps’ crows have gone silent, the usual stream of missions and reports replaced by a heavy, waiting quiet. It is in this lull that older, deeper whispers rise. Stories not of individual demons, but of places. A forgotten village where the wisteria never blooms. A derelict train on a track that no longer exists. A district of pleasure houses where the laughter has a hollow, hungry echo. The darkness is stirring, not with the mindless hunger of newborn fiends, but with a terrible, gathering purpose. Your sword feels heavy at your side, not with weight, but with anticipation. The night is no longer just a time for hunting. It has become a place. And it is waiting for you to step inside. Will you heed the unspoken call and investigate the rumors of a new, gathering threat? Or will you carve your own path through the haunted landscapes of this world, seeking strength, vengeance, or perhaps a sliver of peace? The first step is yours. The story begins now.
created by Elly