Gloomhaven Tribe Mother World.
The sky, untouched by the cycle of day and night, was blanketed in dark clouds. Beneath their concealment, the world lay in pitch-black darkness.
Yet this darkness had no effect whatsoever on the native creatures of this world.
Hordes of undead marched across the gray-white plains, pale Soul Fire burning within their eye sockets. As the breeze stirred, those Soul Fires drifted with the wind, and the sparks they scattered transformed into clusters of ghostly blue flames in the air.
A desolate flute melody echoed across the plains. Behind the undead horde, two creatures nearly identical to tall, thin specters played bone flutes made from leg bones.
They walked slowly to the sound of the flutes, like shepherds tending their flock.
Within the Natural Federation, the Gloomhaven Tribe could almost be called the largest race. Yet few knew that their mother world was actually a small world not even qualified as a medium-sized world.
In this small world known by the Gloomhaven Tribe as the Netherworld, no living beings existed in the conventional sense.
Dense Decay Radiation lingered eternally over this land. The only creatures capable of surviving within such Decay Radiation were blasphemous beings like the undead.
Though the Gloomhaven Tribe refused to admit it, anyone who had studied them knew that they were undead creatures.
Ordinary members of the Gloomhaven Tribe were extremely tall and humanoid, with adults generally standing around two and a half meters tall. Massive blood-red claws grew from the ends of all four of their limbs.
Their bodies looked frail, almost skeletal, and their skin was incomparably pale. From afar, they looked just like skeletons—hence the origin of their name.
However, their strength was far from weak. It could even be called formidable.
An adult member of the Gloomhaven Tribe