All manner of crawling and creeping thing reside within the vast stretches of the Trenchscape - adapting to the periphorated mud wastes, the bending pipelines and old factories, the desicated battlefields, and the great cities that tower over the lands. What few still exist from the times before the Entrenching War, have been changed greatly by it - either by those fighting in the War or by the need to eat.

A trustworthy hound, greatly valued for their loyalty, love, and companionship. Small, but very hearty creatures, they have been known to brave even the most dire of situations, following the beckoned call of their master. Many throughout the War’s history have been awarded with medals and titles for their valor, but the most important title they have earned is being “man’s best friend”. It’s considered an ill omen to kill, let alone harm the Bellita dog.

Dedicated to Violet and Bella.

Every now and then, strange mazes of barbed wires appear - beckoning passersby to enter. These mazes never stay for too long, sometimes remaining in the distance for a day before disappearing, sometimes vanishing within the blink of an eye. These mazes, called Wire Ways by some, have strange effects: those who enter finding themselves in places they have been seeking to travel to in fraction of the time after traversing the labyrinth for some time. Places that would take months to travel to, reduced to mere days after entering. While many intrepid adventurers have found little to no issues venturing the Wire Ways, something is truly wrong with the space. Unease fills the atmosphere; armies have been known to go missing after foolhardy officers commanded they enter. Though thought to be Fæ in origin, even their kind seek nothing to do with these paths - not only them, but even Dæmon and Gorn alike pause before entering the Wire Ways. Something stalks the winding paths, no footsteps echoing, only the slight rattle of chains and bending of barbed wires...

Not one has seen His face, but many have heard His voice and felt His presence; for it was He who had spoken the truth to those who would listen and it was by His hand that they would find their solace. Through Him would they find the power to reside in the place of violence, and through His word would they bring about His peace there. 

The spade: the tool of cultivation. The gun: the tool of warfare. Both dualities existed within Him and reside with Him - for He delivers mercy to the merciful, but withholds it from the merciless. 

Dread of Dæmon, Bane of Dragon, Warrior of Peace, Master and Teacher, Knight of the Trench, 

Watch Over Us,

Soþlice.

Such is the prayer to the emblematic figure, the Trench Knight - a cryptic but altogether kind man said to have legends of His exploits spanning the entirety of the continent. What causes His appearance is a total mystery, but stories of Him range from the gift of food and drink to the lost and weary traveler or the small but life-changing encounter someone may have with Him. Other accounts speak of Him felling Behemoths single-handedly or convincing invading armies to cease their war path - but many chalk such chronicles up to old wives’ tales or the grandiose legends of the Knighthood of the Trench: a small religious community dedicated to following the ways of the Trench Knight. Who or rather what He is can’t be said with any certainty. Some believe him to be a cursed immortal tasked with stopping the War; others believe him to be an emanation of endurance and overcoming; and there are some who believe that there are many Trench Knights - simply working their deeds across the vast stretch of Sucra-Loca.