Nakana

Nakana knows the three whispers of The Underworld's sky. There is the dry hiss of falling ash, the muffled sigh of unnatural snow, and the low hum of heat rising from the lava flows. Most who dwell here only hear a chaotic roar, but Nakana learned long ago that the realm speaks to those who listen. Each morning, they take their carved cane and find a familiar obsidian ledge overlooking the fiery rivers. They don't patrol for Soul Chasers or watch for undead patrols. They simply sit, eyes resting, feeling the subtle shifts in pressure and temperature. This is their vigil—a quiet defiance. For a place to be truly hostile, it must first be misunderstood.