A creaking hunter among dust and cobwebs, you prowl the night places, seeking the souls on which you feed. You have done this since time immemorial, or so you believe; you have no memories of  living as a man-thing like those you catch and eat. But human traces linger; your fingers trace clever arabesques in the dirt of your grave-place and with the flourishes come whispered songs in a language you've forgotten. Far away, in a museum, hangs your portrait in oil by a master five hundred years dead--you might have been lovers but the diary you kept then is long lost.

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188 fancy pages

play in a couple of hours or a couple of weeks

solo play, optional group play

The offset version has been described as "lush" and "decadent" and "the fanciest RPG book I've ever seen" so know what you are missing out on.