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** DEADWOOD **
[ ? || ♂️ || ? ]

the rolling plains give way to marshland, whose only company is the distant vulture's call

“A fear or nightmare that lurks in the gut of all who venture into the wilds. Come nightfall, with only the moonlight to make their way, which shall be the first to claim them; the animals, or the land itself?”

? The Steed ?
he/him || spectral || silent

As patient and silent as the nightmare he manifested from; little is known about Deadwood by those outside the Kingdom of the Badlands. Even his name is said to have been bestowed on him by a rumor whispered through the nightmare.

He is deeply loyal to Roulette, acting as his eternally-faithful mount, and delivering him wherever his destination may be in a thundering flash of blue flame. The two seem to share some kind of silent understanding. Little more than a gesture is needed to convey exactly what is needed, even in the midst of a frantic chase.

He rarely visits his own Kingdom, instead hunting the Blacklight Dunes with Roulette upon his back.

? Vulture Valley ?
Deadwood's Kingdom, a bleak and crooked marshland choked with dense looming willows and twisted oaks, strung branch-to-branch with tendrils of cobweb-like moss. Abandoned shacks litter the landscape, overgrown with crawling moss and collapsing into the murky swamp. The only denizens seem to be the shadows of beasts, catching the eye for but an instant before vanishing into the low fog, or sinking beneath the gloomy waters. The only sign that there is any way out of the swamp are the distant mountains of the valley, glimpsed through the trees. 

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