You play ordinary people. Not heroes, not chosen ones.
A paramedic. A graduate student. A bartender who closes every Tuesday because nobody else will. Then you touched something you shouldn't have, walked through a door that wasn't there yesterday, watched the wallpaper breathe. Whatever happened, it happened. And now you know.
The world everyone agrees on. Concrete and traffic and mortgages. A routine you could sleepwalk through.
This world with the consensus peeled back. The light bends differently. Sounds echo too long. The deeper you go, the more it starts to feel like home. That's the danger. Not dying. Belonging.
A Character, Built on Three Things
Thirty mundane skills. You're a [Medic], or [Well-Read], or [Athletic]. Tags are free. They never cost a thing. The +1 or +2 that turns a 7 into a 9 lives here.
When the Wyrd noticed you, it saw a shape. A protector. Someone who breaks things until they stop being a problem. Thirteen Myths, nine abilities each. They cost Stress.
A Vestige is a Wyrd entity that never had a name. A Whisper is the power it gives you. Carry more, and you get stronger. Also less human. Both are true at once.
The things in the Below aren't monsters.
Not in the traditional sense. They're emotional residue given form, or fragments of the Wyrd that found a shape they liked. Some of them used to be people. The scariest moment isn't the chase. It's the quiet one, when you realize you understand the creature. When you realize you've become something closer to it than to the person you used to be.
How far are you
willing to go?
Real Tales of the Wyrd is in development at Nightjar. Pull up a seat by the fire and we'll send word as it comes together.