Grigor Onyxthorn
the Brinewrought Count
Named for the black onyx that grew in his chest when he drowned, and the thorn of salt that still works its way out through his skin each night.
Power
You part seawater with a gesture — but every time you do, a thorn of salt pushes through your tongue, and you taste the drowning of every soul you have failed to save.
- Familiar
- A salt-crusted gull named Marrow
- Bloodline
- House Onyxthorn
Every dusk you walk to the same cliff and spit a salt thorn into the sea. You have been doing this for three centuries. The first one was sharp enough to draw blood from your own lip; now they come easily, smooth as river stones. You wait for the tide to take it, and it always does — one thorn, one prayer, one more day of the half-life you chose.