Gwyll, Waning Eclipse

Deep within the groves the shadows sing for their dusk-mantled master. A being older than most, bearing an appearance highly contradictory to his true nature, Gwyll is quite literally the stuff of nightmares—so it seems to those foolish enough to cross the Erlking. Indeterminate of gender as the self-styled monarch is, he does not object to being labelled male, perhaps for the ease of those who enter his sunless realm. Underneath Gwyll's childish facade lies a fickle temperament, as quick to laughter as he is to anger—and certainly as benevolent or vengeful as the moon-kissed tides can be. His unpredictable nature spells a special kind of chaos for those who dare to delve into the depths of unconsciousness, making him something of a spirit, deity, or even demon of the "space." Though scholars disagree on the exact nuances of this plane, most accept that it is a sort of "collective unconscious"—the bedrock of common thought across sentient worlds. From there the Erlking watches over each and every possible dimension with childlike glee, coveting all but the most precious of souls to pass through. His elfin traits leads to the belief that Gwyll favors the appearance of what some worlds call the "fair folk." Indeed, like them, naive is the one who believes the Erlking is charitable, for even in the abstract there is a price to be paid. An oft-quoted piece of advice from antiquity still holds: "ware thee the Alder-King, or risk revelry beyond even one's final breath." For as many have claimed to have staggered home from their escapades, many more are found collapsed in their summoning circles as bleached-white bone, with legs worn to mere stumps...