Harvest Cultist

They drift across the fields at twilight, robes stained ochre and brown, hands scooping soil and grain beneath a sky turning gold. In Drybridge’s furrows they whisper invocations: for rain, for bounty, for the Harvest Star’s eclipse. They follow Magus Mandrake’s pact with Killcrow, offering rituals at moonlight, sacrifices in secret.   Under starlight, they kneel in circles around flickering braziers, calling upon Killcrow’s promise: once blood is paid, abundance returns.