Zeryx

The Zeryx uphold a clandestine hierarchy rooted in deep secrecy and layered protection. At the very pinnacle lies the Council of Whispers, a small, enigmatic circle of senior Exiles who shield their identities behind elaborate illusions and Focus-based rituals. Even within the council itself, each member may be unaware of the others’ true names or faces, ensuring that no single betrayal can expose the entirety of the organization. When crucial decisions must be made—such as sanctioning an assassination or triggering a wide-scale infiltration—the council convenes in hidden sanctums scattered across Tilith. Their agenda remains elusive to all but a few in the order; those who execute these high-level strategies receive cryptic directives and carefully filtered intelligence, never grasping the council’s full plan.   Presiding above this secretive collective is the Grand Whisper, the one figure with authority to address the entire Zeryx in times of crisis. Chosen in secret by the Council of Whispers (though many suspect arcane forces or ancient pacts guide the process), the Grand Whisper rarely appears publicly, preferring to relay orders through veiled intermediaries. The power vested in this role is immense: if they deem a Veil compromised or a mission doomed, they have the right to dissolve entire cells or dispatch elite operatives without consultation. To the ordinary Zeryx, the Grand Whisper borders on myth—a name spoken in hushed reverence, a presence felt only when shadows lengthen and difficult choices must be made.   Beneath these upper echelons dwell the Blood Shadows, each entrusted with overseeing one or more Veils. These lieutenants are masters of lethal Focus disciplines, as adept with illusions as they are with daggers. They serve as mentors and enforcers of the Oaths of Secrecy, ensuring all members maintain unwavering loyalty to the Zeryx. Then come the Outcasts, veterans who have skirted the edges of forbidden knowledge or survived missions deemed suicidal by any rational measure. Known for their ruthless focus and unbreakable resolve, Outcasts often undertake the most perilous assignments—silencing rogue elements, neutralizing demons in their lairs, or waging private wars against cults that threaten Tilith’s fragile balance.   Most day-to-day operations fall to the Shades, field operatives who specialize in infiltration and intelligence gathering. A typical Shade cell may number only a handful of agents, each responsible for different facets of a mission: reconnaissance, sabotage, or direct strikes. These individuals walk a thin line between independence and strict adherence to hidden directives; they rarely know more than they need to complete each assignment. Supporting them from the shadows are handlers and support operatives—quartermasters ensuring supply lines remain hidden, intelligence brokers forging new identities, and covert healers tending to the wounded far from prying eyes. While these roles lack the mystique of the assassin or Outcast, they form the backbone that keeps each Veil well-prepared and informed.   At the base of the ladder are the Acolytes, novices often drawn from the orphaned or disenfranchised. Sequestered in remote or underground training enclaves, they receive relentless instruction in silent movement, disguise, and code-breaking. Each must ultimately face the Hollow, a harrowing trial that weeds out those lacking the cunning, willpower, or ruthlessness essential for the Zeryx mission. Failure can mean injury, death, or expulsion from the only home they have ever known—yet those who survive emerge as full-fledged Shades, bound by oath to defend Tilith from invisible perils. Knowledge flows downward through this rigid structure by means of coded messages, discreet couriers, and the watchful eyes of mentors. In the end, only the Council of Whispers and the Grand Whisper grasp the full scope of operations, orchestrating a silent army that stands ready to eliminate threats—even if Tilith’s inhabitants remain blissfully unaware of their saviors in the dark.

From the moment a recruit enters a Zeryx Veil, they step into a world defined by grim resolve and an unspoken acceptance of life-or-death stakes. Training methods are notoriously harsh—rival novices may turn on each other without warning to prove their worth or test each other’s wits. Yet for all its brutality, this environment forges a fierce family-like bond among survivors, binding them together in a loyalty few outsiders can fathom. Rituals and daily routines reflect a near-funerary solemnity: novices chant quiet requiems for those who perish in training, and elders conduct midnight vigils to honor fallen assassins. While each Veil operates semi-independently, all Zeryx enclaves share a culture of uncompromising secrecy, disciplined Focus study, and a universal code that values lethal efficiency above sentimentality. Clashes between Veils do happen—old grudges can erupt into shadow wars if lines of duty are crossed—yet when Tilith’s broader safety is at stake, these hidden enclaves unite under an unspoken accord to eliminate common threats.

Officially, the Zeryx maintain no public face at all—to the world at large, their very existence is rumor and nightmare. Their actual “agenda,” if it can be called that, revolves around preemptive strikes on anyone or anything that threatens cosmic equilibrium. This sometimes means surgically removing a tyrant poised to unleash ruin, or sabotaging an emergent cult dabbling in forbidden magic. Equally often, it means quietly policing other Veils whose methods grow too reckless. Each enclave values its autonomy—and if one Veil’s ambitions endanger another or compromise the Zeryx name, swift and deadly intervention is as likely to come from a sister enclave as it is from outside enemies. In this sense, their unifying goal is twofold: preserve Tilith from unseen horrors and ensure that no Veil’s actions expose the Zeryx to public scrutiny or mass retaliation.

While Zeryx Veils lack grandeur in the traditional sense—no towering castles or legions of knights—they command a network of hidden resources shaped by generations of shadow warfare. Each Veil serves as a fog-shrouded stronghold, embedded in treacherous terrain like swamps, volcanic ridges, or sunless valleys. Within these enclaves lie labyrinthine corridors lined with traps and illusions to repel intruders. Their true strength, however, comes from elite assassination squads and the advanced Focus techniques many members master—skills that allow silent infiltration, swift kills, and vanishing acts that border on the supernatural. In addition, the Veils collectively maintain secret caches of potent poisons, forged or illusory weapons, and black-market funds to bribe local powers or secure crucial informants. Such resources are kept painfully compartmentalized: one Veil often knows little of another’s holdings, reducing the chance a single betrayal could cripple the entire network. This fractured yet deeply specialized arsenal enables the Zeryx to strike from the shadows—sometimes even against each other—while leaving almost no trace of their lethal interventions.

In the centuries following the Cleansing, scattered enclaves of covert operatives began to emerge across Tilith. Most were nothing more than small bands of survivalists, each forging its own methods for staying hidden amid the chaos of the new world. Despite their minor impact, these shadow groups laid the groundwork for what would become the Zeryx—veiled protectors dedicated to halting rising threats before the rest of Tilith even realized they existed. In these early days, secrecy was little more than a survival instinct, not yet the ironclad law it would become.   By around Year 2450, rumors of an underground faction started circulating in ragged border towns and nomadic caravans. Whispers told of masked figures removing cult leaders, halting necromancers, and eliminating aberrant monsters at night. No one agreed on a name, but the consistent thread was that these agents vanished without seeking payment or recognition. Historians debate whether these stories pointed directly to the Zeryx or to similar proto-organizations. Regardless, such rumors fuelled both fear and awe, establishing the earliest mystique around this hidden network.   As power blocs rose and fell, the shadow operatives discovered they shared overlapping goals. Realizing they could do more together, their leaders convened in an abandoned fortress deep in a sulfuric marsh sometime in the late 2000s. According to Zeryx lore, this summit birthed the idea of forging a single, cohesive order bound by strict loyalty and illusions-based arts. Under this pact, they adopted the name “Zeryx,” taken from an archaic dialect meaning “silent watchers.” The exact date remains a closely guarded secret, but that remote stronghold became the first recognized Veil.   Over the next several centuries, the Zeryx refined their Focus arts—techniques blending lethal combat with advanced illusions and mental discipline. Many historians believe that by Year 3500, the group had already entrenched itself in the labyrinthine sewers beneath major city-states, using an expanding network of false identities and hidden safehouses. This period saw the rise of the first Blood Shadows, elite members rumored to perform impossible feats of assassination and infiltration. For outsiders, the group’s existence was still guesswork; for those in the know, the Zeryx had solidified into a deadly, if elusive, force.   When the War of Ruin began in Year 5500, the Zeryx found themselves facing horrors far beyond the usual renegade kings and roving beasts. Driven by dogma that valued quiet, targeted intervention, they infiltrated Ruin cults, snuffed out demon-summoning conspirators, and systematically undermined warlords’ alliances from within. While grand armies clashed openly, the Zeryx prevented myriad disasters from unfolding behind the scenes. Surviving records note that the group’s attrition rate soared during these times—yet their success in halting sabotage behind enemy lines earned them whispered reverence in certain high circles.   The war’s official end in Year 6051 left Tilith scarred and distrustful. Entire kingdoms had fallen or been corrupted; many survivors found themselves traumatized by the memory of unstoppable Ruin monstrosities. In this post-war climate, the Zeryx shifted tactics to a more expansive infiltration approach. Now that the greatest external threat had subsided, individual Veils debated how best to ensure long-term security. Some advocated relentless hunts for Ruin stragglers, while others pushed to refocus on mortal tyrants and cosmic abominations waiting to resurface.   By Year 7000, internal schisms emerged. One notable rift involved extremist cells that argued for purging entire regions suspected of Ruin corruption—essentially sacrificing countless innocents for the sake of safety. Moderate voices within the Zeryx rejected such brutality, insisting that surgical strikes remained the key. The result was a series of covert “shadow wars” between Veils—clashes invisible to outside observers yet deeply destructive to Zeryx membership. After numerous betrayals, the Council of Whispers formed to unify the order under a common doctrine, affirming that mass extermination was beyond the Zeryx’s moral boundary.   Despite ongoing tensions, the group’s influence continued to spread. By Year 9500, the Zeryx had established Veils in multiple corners of Tilith: swamp-ridden enclaves, volcanic hideouts, dense metropolis underbellies, and even rumored outposts near the drifting sky-cities of advanced enclaves. Each Veil specialized in distinctive infiltration styles—one might master desert illusions, another perfect labyrinthine choke points. While these enclaves maintained fierce autonomy, periodic gatherings in neutral territory allowed the Council of Whispers to reaffirm protocols and exchange critical intelligence.   During the next few millennia, external crises came and went. Draconic warlords, lesser demonic incursions, and even rumored cosmic break-ins from other planes threatened Tilith’s fragile peace. Each time, Zeryx operatives worked in the background, eliminating ringleaders, dismantling summoning circles, or turning rival factions against each other. Their methods grew more sophisticated. Advanced illusions blurred the line between reality and dream, while Focus arts extended to manipulating ephemeral energies for teleportation or rapid infiltration. Legends of unstoppable “Blood Shadows” solidified during these centuries, further obscuring the Zeryx’s true size.   As Tilith entered the 13,000s, an upswing in magitech led some wealthy city-states to develop rudimentary firearms or mechanized constructs. The Zeryx responded by adopting sabotage tactics specifically tailored to these new threats—infecting contraptions with illusions to misfire or feeding false data to city wards. Meanwhile, certain Veils capitalized on black-market deals, securing arcane materials that boosted infiltration. The group remained staunchly anti-public, letting advanced societies assume they’d rid themselves of “primitive assassins,” only for vital factories or labs to mysteriously implode under puzzling circumstances.   In Year 15000, a resurgence of Ruin-like energies flared up around an undersea citadel, prompting a rapid Zeryx mobilization. Teams of Shades and Outcasts collaborated to neutralize a doomsday artifact rumored to merge the plane of Tilith with a pocket of oblivion. Although details remain classified, evidence suggests that no outside faction was even aware of the near-catastrophe. The incident revealed the Zeryx’s unwavering commitment to stealth, to the point of sacrificing entire cells if secrecy demanded it. Internally, the operation further cemented the Council of Whispers’ leadership role, forging stronger lines of communication across Veils.   Now, in Year 15750, the Zeryx stand as a silent bulwark against threats that might destabilize Tilith anew. Their influence reaches every major metropolis and distant frontier, with carefully placed handlers and layered illusions ensuring no infiltration is left uncovered. Although they rarely unify under a single banner, each Veil adheres to the same principle: quietly remove any danger—human, monstrous, or extraplanar—before it can consume the world. Common folk remain largely unaware of the Zeryx’s existence, but powerful rulers speak in hushed tones about unstoppable phantoms that appear in the night to set right what no open army could. Thus, the Zeryx endure as Tilith’s invisible shield, forged by centuries of secrecy and tested by horrors that lurk in every unlit corridor of the realm.

Compared to more openly recognized factions, the Zeryx remain an extremely low-density organization. Their cells, known as Veils, hide within remote swamps, urban underbellies, desert canyons, or volcanic networks. No single Veil houses more than a few dozen operatives, yet collectively—spread across Tilith—they form a loose confederation that can mobilize a surprising number of skilled agents. The Shadow Apex may serve as a clandestine hub for leadership, but most members never even glimpse it, spending their days in smaller local enclaves or on covert missions abroad.   Population Distribution:

• 50% are Acolytes/Novices, still undergoing rigorous training in stealth, illusions, and lethal arts.
• 30% are full-fledged Shades—those who have survived the Hollow and now perform infiltration, espionage, or assassination duties.
• 15% occupy specialized roles (e.g., handlers, quartermasters, infiltration tacticians, cryptographers).
• 5% are senior Blood Shadows, Outcasts, or council-aligned operatives with advanced Focus disciplines and strategic authority.

  Birth & Death Rates:

• True births within a Veil are exceptionally rare. Most recruits join as orphans, street survivors, or those discovered to have notable Focus potential.
• Mortality tends to be higher than in other factions due to dangerous missions and lethal training trials. Few novices survive the notorious Hollow unscathed.
• When a member dies, the Veil conducts a silent passing ritual—no public ceremony, only a discreet farewell in line with the Zeryx ethos of invisibility. In many cases, the body is never recovered from hostile territories, and only cryptic records mark that operative’s fate.

Though officially placeless, the Zeryx maintain a network of Veils scattered throughout Tilith, hidden in everything from city catacombs to swamp-laden deltas. Each Veil claims a slice of territory—be it an abandoned fortress or caverns deep under mountains—that outsiders rarely suspect. No two Veils share the exact same environment, creating a patchwork of enclaves across continents.   Many of these enclaves lie on the fringes of established kingdoms. For instance, a notorious Veil might lurk beneath an overgrown ruin just outside a bustling capital, or in labyrinthine volcanic tunnels feared by locals. These locations provide a defensive advantage, exploiting myths or inhospitable terrain to keep casual explorers away. Over time, some Veils also cultivate local superstition, using illusions to sustain rumors of ghosts, curses, or lethal monsters.   A handful of Veils go so far as to embed themselves in teeming metropolises. Under the guise of crime rings, or even legitimate guilds, they hide in plain sight. In these urban enclaves, the Zeryx can swiftly gather intelligence on political machinations and infiltration targets. Rumors suggest that certain Veils funnel black-market goods directly to local nobility, quietly manipulating city politics while leaving no official trace.   Despite controlling no formal “nation-state,” the Zeryx enjoy a surprisingly global reach. Their clandestine presence stretches from desert kingdoms to frigid tundra outposts. Factions across Tilith whisper that “no matter where you run, there’s always a Veil close behind.” By scattering themselves so thoroughly, the Zeryx ensure they can strike swiftly at emergent threats—and vanish just as quickly.

Rather than field armies, the Zeryx rely on small, elite cells of operatives—Shades, Blood Shadows, and Outcasts—who excel in precision infiltration and assassination. If circumstances demand, multiple Veils may coordinate strikes, but the Zeryx never mass into overt forces. This surgical approach compensates for their modest numbers: they eliminate threats by stealth, ensuring the world rarely sees them move in any organized military capacity.

As a secret assassin order, the Zeryx focus on practical applications of stealth, subterfuge, and Focus-based illusions over broad technological progress. They do not strive to invent large-scale machinery or advanced magical contraptions like the Asteryls might. Instead, their research leans toward developing perfect poisons, forging silent weaponry, and refining illusions to break even the strongest minds. When they do acquire magitech or arcane devices from black markets—e.g., a small mechanical trap or a stolen Helix artifact—it’s always repurposed for infiltration rather than innovation.   In scientific pursuits, the Zeryx show a sort of grim ingenuity. They experiment on living subjects to test toxins or illusions that warp perception, gleaning intimate knowledge of biology and mental resilience. While they lack formal research labs or grand academies, a handful of Veils maintain hidden libraries on taboo topics—brain chemistry, planar vulnerabilities, or advanced illusions. This curated knowledge remains guarded behind thick illusions; only the most trusted Shades or Blood Shadows may study it. In essence, the Zeryx remain on the cutting edge of covert warfare technology, though they disdain large-scale engineering or publicly recognized breakthroughs. Their priority is lethal efficiency, not societal advancement.

Diplomatic Approach: True to their secretive nature, the Zeryx do not engage in formal diplomacy. No envoys, no embassy halls, no trade pacts. Instead, they operate through covert channels—assassinating threats, sabotaging cults, and gathering intelligence without ever publicly claiming credit. Most rulers or factions encounter the Zeryx only by rumor: a veiled messenger might arrive with an “offer” that can’t be refused, or a problem simply disappears overnight. This elusive modus operandi ensures the Zeryx remain a step removed from official politics, exerting subtle influence wherever it’s needed.   Alliances & Ties:

• Forlorn Moon: Officially, the Zeryx function as its covert branch, maintaining a tenuous cooperation with the more visible Asteryls. While they rarely collaborate openly, both share intelligence about planar threats and cosmic anomalies.
• Local Kingdoms & City-States: The Zeryx do not sign treaties or appear at royal courts. Nonetheless, certain rulers or councils discreetly extend them resources—safe passage, hush money, or intelligence—in exchange for the Zeryx’s silent removal of enemies.
• Black Market & Underworld: More than any legitimate power, the Zeryx maintain tight ties to smugglers, thieves’ guilds, and contraband dealers. Through these networks, they secure essential supplies and subvert oppressive regimes or rival factions.

  Enemies & Threats:

• Rival Assassin Orders / Rogue Factions: Because the Zeryx thrive on secrecy, any competing group with similar methods becomes an immediate target for infiltration or neutralization.
• Overreaching Tyrants / Cults of Ruin: The Zeryx pride themselves on preemptive strikes against those who could destabilize Tilith. Although they rarely declare open war, a rogue cult or despotic king often vanishes under mysterious circumstances.
• Suspicious Kingdoms: A few governments, uncomfortable with being “visited by ghosts,” actively hunt rumored Zeryx operatives. Nonetheless, lack of concrete evidence makes systematic purges nearly impossible.

  Subversive Exchanges: Day to day, Veils handle regional issues independently. A Veil might discreetly broker a deal with a city’s black-market lord or manipulate local lords through blackmail. Larger decisions—such as eradicating a powerful demonic incursion—fall under the Council of Whispers’ purview. In every case, the Zeryx prefer to keep even their “allies” at arm’s length, ensuring no one can trace their entire network.

The Zeryx adhere to a code known as the “Veil Mandates,” a set of unwritten but ironclad rules enforced through ruthless vigilance. Foremost among these is the Oath of Silence, which dictates that no agent may compromise the organization’s existence or methods to outside parties. Infractions—even minor slips—can result in rapid, lethal retribution by fellow Zeryx. In this manner, the Mandates act as a cultural bedrock, ensuring secrecy is never jeopardized.   Beyond silence, the Veil Mandates emphasize non-attachment—Zeryx must abandon personal feuds, family ties, or any pursuit that risks exposing their Veil. Members caught engaging in vendettas or power grabs face swift removal, their fate often sealed by an unseen assassin. By sacrificing personal ambition, each Zeryx agent preserves the collective. Punishments for violations range from forced illusions that break a culprit’s spirit, to exile in the Hollow, or outright execution.

By design, the Zeryx do not maintain farmland or major crafts of their own. They glean necessities from the black market, purchasing or bartering for rations, poison ingredients, and specialized gear through shadowy intermediaries. Some Veils keep small hidden gardens for cultivating toxic herbs or medicinal plants, but these are minor supplements rather than large-scale agriculture.   Likewise, industry takes the form of handcrafted infiltration tools—fine lockpicks, forging stamps, or illusions-laden masks. Individual Zeryx artisans practice these crafts in hidden workshops, passing down closely guarded techniques. There are no grand forges or assembly lines; each item is custom-made, reflecting the faction’s inherent secrecy and minimal footprint in conventional trade.

Within the Zeryx, trade is governed by covert barter networks linking Veils across vast distances. Couriers skilled in illusions or disguised as common travelers ferry sealed messages and contraband between enclaves. Instead of roads and caravans, they rely heavily on safehouse chains, each step insulated from the next by elaborate ciphers and passcodes.   On a broader scale, the Zeryx cultivate ties to smugglers who traverse remote passes or swamp-laden shipping routes. These hidden carriers deliver anything from stolen tomes to exotic toxins. Payment is typically made in obscure coins, black pearls, or intangible favors—like discreetly vanishing an inconvenient official. Thus, goods and intelligence flow through labyrinthine channels, shielding both participants from detection.   When rapid deployment is necessary—like halting an imminent threat—the Zeryx dispatch small infiltration teams by airship stowaway or commandeered merchant boats. They have no flagship or distinctive vessel, opting instead to blend with unsuspecting civilian cargo. This reliance on subterfuge ensures no authority can easily pinpoint how Zeryx agents move through Tilith, let alone intercept them en route.

Unlike the gentle Cradles of the Asteryls, the Zeryx offer no safe haven for orphans. If a youth is brought into a Veil’s fold, it is often by force or through desperate circumstances—maybe they survived a massacre, caught the eye of a passing Blood Shadow, or showed an uncanny knack for silent movement. From the moment they step into the halls of exile, their world changes. Walls slick with condensation, the smell of steel and fungus, and the whispers of masked instructors set a tone that is equal parts suffocating and electrifying. Here, no gentle star-lore is recited; children learn that if they do not adapt, they will bleed.   Those the Zeryx deem “initiates” undergo immediate evaluation. A cold-eyed handler records height, weight, reflex tests, Focus potential—then promptly discards any unfit for the path. Some are ejected from the Veil and left in a swamp or urban ruin to fend for themselves. Others with borderline aptitude might be sold to unscrupulous third parties. The Zeryx do not coddle. They focus on forging lethal instruments from the promising few, rather than nurturing every stray soul. Mercy is not part of the curriculum.   Training begins with “Mental Rending”—a brutal immersion in illusions and interrogation. Initiates are shackled in dimly lit chambers, forced to endure nightmarish visions conjured by adept illusions masters. Bloody apparitions, swirling horrors, the screams of phantom enemies—this is the veil’s way of numbing them to terror. Instructors watch from hidden balconies, noting who breaks, who begs for release, and who steels themselves behind tear-stained cheeks. Blood spattering the stone floor is not unusual; novices often thrash themselves into injury, trying to escape illusions that crawl inside their minds.   After surviving that mental gauntlet, recruits face the “Cracked Blade Trials”—a savage introduction to physical discipline. Pitted against each other in cramped arenas, novices must fight using dull or sometimes broken weapons. Blunt steel will still crack ribs, and the Veils see spilled blood as a necessary baptism. If an initiate cannot parry a blow or find the will to strike back, their chance of living to see the next day drops sharply. Instructors don’t intervene until one combatant is unconscious or beyond saving.   Yet the most dreaded step is the Hollow—the hidden labyrinth rumored to devour the weak. There, illusions shift the walls, creating corridors soaked in darkness or lined with razor-sharp edges. Novices wander blindly, hearing echoes of their own frantic heartbeats. Overseers watch from vantage points, sometimes releasing savage beasts or setting illusions of blood-soaked abominations. Those who emerge do so scarred, half-starved, and haunted by glimpses of their own mortality—truly christened as Acolytes. Many never emerge at all.   For those who pass, the Zeryx transition them into a more specialized curriculum: infiltration, advanced illusions, toxin handling, and subterfuge. Lectures come in the form of one-on-one lessons with Shades or Blood Shadows—men and women whose every breath is laced with menace. Mistakes in these sessions cost limbs or eyes; an Acolyte who botches a poison mixture might spend months recuperating from the backlash, if they survive the immediate agony.   Blood is a constant presence in the halls of exile, not merely spilled in training fights but also used in certain Focus-rituals. In one especially grueling lesson, novices must mark themselves with runes drawn in their own blood, empowering illusions that test how far they’ll go to achieve victory. Fainting or squeamishness draws derision from peers—and possibly an impromptu beating if a senior operative decides they’re dragging the Veil’s reputation down.   Life outside direct training is scarcely better. Where an Asteryl novice might do chores in a sunlit orchard, a Zeryx initiate mops viscera from interrogation rooms or polishes the pitted floors slicked by older recruits’ gore. Nightly gatherings sometimes become twisted storytelling sessions, where senior Shades recount their most efficient kills, instructing novices through brutal parables. Those lacking the stomach to listen find themselves singled out for further “conditioning.”   Punishment for infractions is swift and severe. Lying to a handler, losing a critical infiltration tool, or showing mercy on a target might earn the culprit an extended session in “The Pit,” a cramped cell reeking of sweat and rot. In some Veils, they chain offenders to corpses of the fallen for days, forcing them to contemplate mortality up close. The lesson is straightforward: a Zeryx must remain detached from squeamish morality, or they endanger the entire faction.   Despite the brutality, camaraderie can blossom among survivors. Acolytes who bleed together, who nearly perish from illusions or savage beast hunts, may form bonds stronger than family. They learn to trust each other’s silent gestures in the field, to share stolen rations, and to defend one another from the sadistic whims of a passing Outcast. Such friendships are usually secret, for openly displaying loyalty or affection can paint a target on one’s back.   Graduation (if one can call it that) occurs when an Acolyte completes a sanctioned kill or infiltration alone. This “Blood Mark” mission tests their resourcefulness and cruelty in a real-world setting. Sloppy work might earn them an unseen observer’s dagger in the spine. Survive, return with proof of success, and the Veil grants them the rank of Shade. This transition is never celebrated publicly; at best, they receive a nod from a senior operative. Their reward is simply continued existence.   No illusions remain about a “higher purpose” or cosmic harmony by the time these new Shades stand in full regalia. Education within the Zeryx is a crucible of blood, guts, and unwavering discipline. To endure is to embrace the darkest corners of Tilith—and one’s own soul. Thus, the Halls of Exile birth silent phantoms ready to slice away any threat, or any weakness, that dares intrude on the Zeryx’s mission. There is no place for mercy here; only knives and shadows remain.

Despite their pervasive network of Veils, the Zeryx maintain no grand roads, citadels, or civil engineering projects. Each enclave occupies whatever natural or architectural hideout offers the best cover—from sewer tunnels under sprawling capitals to cavernous mazes in volcanic ridges. With secrecy as their first priority, most of their “infrastructure” centers on hidden passages, false walls, or illusions that cloak entire corridors. Small forges, cryptic libraries of stolen scrolls, and minimal living quarters are tucked away behind trap-laden entryways. Even communal spaces, like training pits or meeting halls, feel more like clandestine strongholds than functional public infrastructure. In truth, the Zeryx invest heavily in subtle modifications—reinforced stone walls disguised beneath grime, ventilation shafts hidden by illusions, or series of pressure plates that open decoy doors. Viewed from the outside, a Veil might be little more than an old ruin; from the inside, it is a meticulously arranged lair designed to keep out both prying eyes and would-be invaders.

Legends speak of an ancient figure known only as Ohnai the Veiled—a wanderer who supposedly harnessed illusions so profound that entire armies slew themselves, convinced they fought a living enemy. In these tales, Ohnai passed their methods on to a handful of dispossessed assassins, forging the proto-Zeryx in clandestine gatherings. The texts often paint Ohnai as more wraith than mortal, stepping through shadows and disappearing before dawn, leaving behind only cryptic verses about the “silent path.”   Over time, these stories became interwoven with half-truths of hunts in demon-infested dungeons, illusions so potent they devoured minds, and feats of stealth so legendary that entire palaces fell overnight. While modern Zeryx rarely discuss Ohnai openly, recruits catch whispers that the Veil Mandates owe their roots to that original wandering master. Each Veil preserves a variant of the myth, adding local twists that further obscure the line between history and superstition.

Traces of the Zeryx’s earliest forerunners appear after the Cleansing, when Tilith was rife with chaos and powerful warlords. Isolated assassins banded together to protect towns from tyranny, often removing local despots in brutal, silent strikes. Over time, these disparate killer-clans discovered they shared a common ideology: secrecy was an even greater weapon than swords.   Fleeing any attempts at official recognition, these clans periodically met in hidden ruins to exchange infiltration tricks and illusions-based combat. It was around Year 2450 that a figure calling themselves Ashen Lian stepped forward, merging the scattered groups into a rudimentary shadow network. Lian championed the idea that only by maintaining absolute invisibility could they control the fate of Tilith without being corrupted by power.   In the centuries that followed, these teachings solidified into formal rites. Each fledgling enclave, or Veil, taught stealth, mental fortitude, and Focus illusions as though they were holy sacraments. It wasn’t reverence for gods that bound them, but reverence for the lethal potential of secrecy. Ritual combat, forced illusions, and blood pacts became standard training tools. If novices survived the crucible, they earned the right to adopt the Zeryx’s name.   As Tilith’s kingdoms evolved, so did the Zeryx. Veils adopted local infiltration tactics—urban enclaves specialized in forging government seals and documents, while swamp outposts honed toxins and beast-luring illusions. Despite these differences, the underlying code remained the same: do not advertise your existence, strike without mercy, and vanish before retribution can form.   By Year 7000, the budding Council of Whispers emerged to unify the Veils under more consistent doctrines. They codified the killer-arts and illusions-lore into written manuscripts, though these remain sealed away in the halls of the Shadow Apex. Each new generation builds upon that labyrinthine tradition, forging deeper ways to bend perceptions and manipulate fear—always in service of the silent war against threats that might destabilize Tilith.

Foremost among the Zeryx’s tenets is Absolute Secrecy: to reveal one’s Veil, or the existence of the Zeryx as a whole, is an unpardonable sin. Any who break this silence are marked for swift execution. The faction’s entire strategy crumbles if exposed, so this principle underpins every other value.   Second comes Preemptive Striking: the belief that if a potential threat shows signs of destabilizing Tilith or rivaling the Zeryx, it must be destroyed before it matures. Shades learn to watch political figures, cult leaders, or arcane researchers for any hint of becoming uncontrollable. Slaughtering a threat early, even at the cost of innocents, is seen as a necessary evil.   Lastly, Detachment forms the moral core—Zeryx must avoid personal vendettas or emotional ties that compromise loyalty to the order. Love, friendship, or moral hesitation are liabilities. The Veil Mandates demand a stoic heart and lethal focus. By sacrificing individuality, members serve a higher goal: protecting Tilith’s precarious balance from the shadows.

From the outside, the Zeryx appear wholly amoral—lurking assassins who favor murder over dialogue. Internally, however, they uphold a severe code of “Necessary Cruelty.” They believe that sparing an enemy or hesitating to kill can result in far larger calamities. Thus, when the order decides a target must die, no moral conflict is entertained. It is simply done.   No attachments is another ethical cornerstone. Zeryx see emotional bonds as destructive indulgences. Romantic ties, familial loyalty, or personal grudges distract from the faction’s broader goals. Operatives who allow these attachments to influence their actions typically vanish under suspicious circumstances. The order rationalizes that a single weak link endangers the entire chain.   Despite their brutality, the Zeryx do not indulge in random slaughter. Efficiency dictates that kills must serve a strategic end—removing a future threat or disciplining a traitor. Unnecessary bloodshed, while not openly condemned, is considered wasteful and risky. Veils that get too bloodthirsty draw unwanted attention, so a subtle balance is maintained.   Lastly, the Zeryx despise zealotry. They see religious or ideological fanaticism as a vulnerable point that rival powers can exploit. While they occasionally adopt occult rituals or illusions for psychological impact, they remain pragmatic. Worshipping a deity or cause is an invitation for manipulation. To the Zeryx, survival is the only true creed.

At the very top sits the Council of Whispers, a shadowy collective that few Zeryx ever see or hear directly. These individuals operate in near-perpetual anonymity, weaving illusions around themselves—even among one another. Legend has it they convene in pitch-black chambers, speaking in modulated tones so no one can identify a single voice.   To fill the council’s ranks, potential candidates are scouted among the most capable Blood Shadows and Outcasts—those with decades of proven infiltration feats. Once a seat falls vacant (whether by death or deeper, hidden reasons), a secret ballot occurs via coded messages among existing council members. The chosen assassin might never realize they’re a candidate until they receive an anonymous summons to the Shadow Apex.   Council members remain practically invisible to the rank and file. Orders trickle down through secondary lieutenants—trusted senior operatives who pass coded missions to local Veils. Even these lieutenants never meet the council face-to-face, relying on illusions and monikers in all communications. This layered anonymity prevents betrayal from crippling the entire organization.   In day-to-day matters, Blood Shadows hold significant regional authority. They roam from Veil to Veil, ensuring the Mandates are enforced and culling any signs of dissent. If a Veil leader becomes too power-hungry or deviates from the code, a Blood Shadow can enact a “silent purge,” wiping out leadership and installing new ones without public spectacle.   Another tier, the Outcasts, wield near-equal status but focus more on extraordinary missions—hunting rogue demon summoners, snuffing out would-be conquerors, or retrieving dangerous artifacts. Their appointment is more personal: after surviving a rumored “Death Mark” mission, they earn the right to speak with (or at least receive direct orders from) the Council.   The result is a hierarchy that feels both rigid and intangible. No single Veil or operative knows the entire power structure. Everyone plays their part, trusting that, somewhere deep in the shadowy web, the Council’s will is orchestrating a grand design—one that keeps Tilith ignorant yet safe from threats only the Zeryx dare confront.

At the heart of Zeryx might lies Focus—an internal reservoir harnessed through grueling meditative and physical training. Advanced users can weave illusions so lifelike that foes cannot discern reality, plunge entire corridors into claustrophobic darkness, or even strike terror into multiple targets at once. These illusions are not mere tricks; they can induce real pain or confusion, pushing unprepared minds toward madness.   Additionally, some Exiles develop near-preternatural reflexes, heightened senses, or the capacity to dampen their own presence so thoroughly that even magical scrying struggles to detect them. In rare cases, Blood Shadows or Outcasts channel their Focus to warp space around them, performing short-range “ghost-steps” that allow them to blink behind enemies. These abilities, perfected by savage discipline, are the intangible blades in the Zeryx arsenal—far more potent than any sword.

The Zeryx claim no territory and send no ambassadors, yet their fingerprints are everywhere in Tilith’s political landscape. Whispers of toppled monarchs, vanished rivals, and sudden policy reversals often hint at a quiet Zeryx intervention. Rather than confront entire armies, they prefer to strike at a kingdom’s vulnerable pressure point—maybe a corrupt chancellor or a megalomaniac prince—ensuring the collapse of a threat with minimal fanfare.   To facilitate these silent manipulations, the Zeryx embed themselves in all layers of society. Some infiltrators pose as palace servants, while others run black-market rings that supply a kingdom’s nobility with illicit goods. Through these covert networks, they glean valuable intelligence on forthcoming wars, magical experiments, or demonic rituals. Armed with this knowledge, they can intervene before dangerous scenarios escalate.   A hallmark of Zeryx influence is the “noiseless ultimatum,” a tactic used when a powerful figure stands on the verge of destabilizing an entire region. A sealed envelope—bearing a veiled crescent mark—arrives in the target’s private chambers, warning them to desist or face termination. Many leaders yield to these demands, never learning the identity of their blackmailer. Others test the faction’s resolve, almost always to their fatal regret.   Occasionally, the Zeryx choose not to eliminate a threat but to twist its aims to serve their own ends. In some cases, they allow an upstart tyrant to wage war on a more dangerous cult, quietly ensuring both sides weaken each other. Only once the carnage is done do they step in, dismantling the battered remnants. This manipulative approach cements the Zeryx’s reputation as masters of indirect warfare, wielding entire kingdoms like pawns on a grand chessboard.   While most common folk attribute tragedies or abrupt regime shifts to ill luck or “divine wrath,” seasoned royalty and cunning warlords know better. Some attempt alliances with the Zeryx, leaving offerings of gold or knowledge in deserted shrines, hoping to buy the order’s favor. Yet any direct attempt at control or intimidation fails—no one truly holds sway over the Zeryx. They remain an incorporeal hand guiding Tilith’s fate from behind every throne, yet never sitting upon one.

Although unified by the Council of Whispers’ overarching mandate, the Zeryx fracture into numerous Veil sects, each shaped by its environment and local leadership style. A desert-based sect might specialize in mirage illusions and venom-laced scorpion stings, while a coastal enclave relies on undersea infiltration and drowned-corpse intimidation. This regional tailoring ensures every Veil develops unique “flavors” of Focus usage and infiltration tactics.   The atmosphere within each sect can also differ dramatically. Some Veils enforce rigid discipline through daily blood duels, forging members who thrive on lethal competition. Others adopt an almost monk-like silence, focusing on mental illusions and elaborate psychic traps. The one constant is a willingness to use brutality to enforce loyalty—many novices die not just in training, but in internal power struggles if they can’t meet the sect’s unyielding code.   Leadership structures vary too. In some Veils, a solitary Blood Shadow reigns supreme, while others see rotating councils of Outcasts who debate infiltration strategies. Even so, all sects ultimately submit to the Council of Whispers when push comes to shove. It’s through this balancing act—allowing each Veil to innovate and run its own brand of terror, yet unifying them under a single oath—that the Zeryx maintain a web of shadow enclaves that collectively shape Tilith’s hidden destiny.