#ruin core

[forgotten-daedra]

Moss climbs the stone like memory.

I have walked the provinces of men and found them loud.

So I withdrew, and built a quieter realm.

Here, the air smells of rain and old magic.

Here, masks are sacred.

Here, devotion is chosen — not demanded.

I am Faelar.

Forgotten by gods.

Unclaimed by kingdoms.

Unburdened by both.

This place is for the wanderers.

The oath-breakers.

The ones who kneel only in abandoned shrines

and feel no shame for it.

All realms are borrowed.

Some of us simply remember.

— Worship. Or wander.