[ Figments cannot be transferred ]
Intense and strange, Karuma emerged from a nightmare of a ceaseless, endless pursuit of 'justice', and she embodies those principles perfectly. The justice of which Karuma follows has a strange logic to it: it's far more along the lines of some cryptic logic rather than defined law, but for the most part, Karuma aims for what is typically considered "good". However, sometimes said justice is far more ruthless: occasionally, it starts to lean into considering an eye for an eye a fair judgement, which can be a little worrying when she's the arbiter of a delicate conflict. When asked on where said beliefs come from, Karuma simply states something along the lines of 'I follow the call of a higher justice'... Which is vague and unhelpful, but perhaps it's the best answer the stygian can give.
Karuma also considers it her job to collect cursed artifacts for the sake of 'purification', although, to more than a few, it's apparent to many that she has a personal interest in said items. Ironically enough, Karuma can also be frequently found carving various luck charms, perhaps in order to balance out any negative luck the cursed items she collects grants her. She often gives said luck charms to those she enjoys the company of- a stygian or treatling can sometimes find themself covered in various carefully carved wooden charms if Karuma considers their fortune incredibly bad on a day.
In terms of actual interactions, Karuma is terse, stiff, and serious, and as a result, when she's tending to more calm activities, such as gardening or fishing, she does so with an intensity that's... A little less than appropriate for the situation. Karuma naturally tends to glare at pretty much everything as well; even when not intending to be intimidating. Almost everything is serious for her; friendships, battling, eating, everything and anything.
Karuma's nightmare kingdom is a series of stark, pale plateaus with deep, dark canyons, made of a marble-like, hard texture. The gaps between the cliffs and the canyons are easily jumpable, although having wings doesn't hurt for ease of travel, and the dark canyons below are far, far down. When you're there, you cast a long, dark shadow just like the ones in the canyons, and a sense of clarity, so strong it stings rings in your head. It is silent here, but not in a meancing way. Rather, a strange zenlike state seems to ebb and flow through the kingdom; it is the clarity is far more pressing.
Despite the drop, falling into the canyon is not a death sentence: anyone who falls will still feel some pain from the impact, but nothing worse than a minor sprain at the very most. Here, in an almost night-like darkness, if you look carefully you can barely make out what seems to be eyes within the surfaces of the canyon walls- and even as they are still, false, not alive, you can feel them staring at you. It is not a terrifying stare of a predator, but rather, a judgemental one of a thousand peers- one that makes you feel self-consious.
The most difficult part of falling is not the fall itself, but returning back to the top.
At the top of the plateaus, upon the higher peaks, each has a golden sword embedded into it, each sword bearing a series of broken chains of varying lengths. Trying to pluck one out is impossible: it is as if the cliffs themselves has become one with the blades they hold.
It's not very much of a 'home'- but it is a nice place to meditate if you spare the time.