| Aliases | Countless |
|---|---|
| Species | Unknown |
| Gender | Any |
| Eye Color | White |
The Pilgrim of Pteris is a mysterious entity that wanders the deserts and dunes of Pteris. Few know who or what it is and lesser even have survived a meeting with the Pilgrim.
The Legend of the Pilgrim of Pteris
The following is a story told be a weary old man to a traveler at a bar in Pteris:
"You ever hear the tale of the Pilgrim of Pteris?"
The old man leans in close, eyes scanning the dark beyond the ight of the fireplace behind the bar. The flames dance in the reflection of his weathered eyes, and the wind hums low across the dunes behind him.
"Aye... I see by your face you haven't. Good. Better to hear it than live it."
They say there’s a man, if you can call him that, who walks the desert of Pteris alone. No horse, no camel, no caravan. No shadows creeping behind him. Just him. A tall figure cloaked in night, drifting across the dunes like a shadow that forgot what it was attached to. They say his cloak was crafted by night herself, and his boots crafted by the devil.
Some call him the Black Mirage. Others, the Night that Walks on Two Legs. The Man Who Walks Without Shadow. Me? I call him what my grandmother did—The Step Behind You. Because that’s where he always is, isn’t it? Just a heartbeat behind. A whisper late.
Young man, you may think you know what dangers the desert holds; Kreen, demons, purple worms, but you do not know the half of it. I would rather fight any of those monsters then encounter the Pilgrim alone at night.
Some say he speaks, his voice as smooth as the sand of the Kharmaja Dunes, while others claim he is quieter then the stars themselves, if the stars are even brave enough to show when he is around. The Trudjer people say he is a fiend here to punish us, while the people of the east believe he is from beyond the planes. But it doesn't matter.
The legends disagree on what he wants. Some say he takes the thirsty. Others say he hunts the wicked, those who spill blood in the sands. But I’ve seen good folk vanish under the same moon. So maybe he just takes the weak, the tired, the frightened, or just those unlucky enough to meet him. Or maybe he don’t care. But when he finds you, know there will be nothing for your family to bury when the sun rises again. Where he takes you, I can't say.
I was a boy when I first saw them. My family were traveling far across the sands to the river. It was night. He stood there at the crossroads, almost as if he knew we were coming. My father, a good man at heart, went to greet what he thought was a fellow traveler. I will never forget his screams when he got close enough to see what it really was. Then it took my mother who was trying to hide me beneath blankets in the wagon. I looked up and saw a shadow darker then the night itself and eyes that twinkled like far away stars. I don't know why it didn't take me. but I fear it may come soon again to finish what it began.
So remember this, traveler. When the fire grows low and the wind dies down...
If you hear a step that isn’t yours...
If the stars flicker like they’re holding their breath...
If you see a figure just at the edge of sight, darker then night...
Do not follow. Do not run. Do not speak.
Just close your eyes. Pray he’s not here for you. And if you must walk through Pteris… never walk alone.
