Bjornolf Vermilmourn
the Spindrift Count
Named for the crimson stain of a lost bear-wolf's tears, and the salt-stricken mourning of a sea that never gives back its dead.
Power
Brineweaving — you can call salt from any water, crystallizing it into shapes that hold echoes of the drowned. But each use leaves your tongue dry as bone for a day, and you hear the song of the deep calling you home.
- Familiar
- A ghost crab named Shallow
- Bloodline
- House Saltwreath
You will not drink from the living. So you drink from the dead brine of the abyss, and the price is that your own blood tastes of rust and forgotten prayers. You dragged yourself from a shipwreck that never sank, pulled by the weight of a wedding ring that slipped off your finger and fell into a trench no light has touched. The cold is the only lover you have kept faith with.