Subtypes

Characteristics:

The Noctivorus are a secluded, cannibalistic subspecies of Abyssal that dwell almost exclusively within the deepest reaches of the Dark Forest. Rarely encountered and widely feared, they are predators by both instinct and necessity, feeding upon abyssal essence and flesh with little regard for the origin of their prey. Lost Abyssals, wandering beasts, rival swarms, and even members of their own kind are all considered viable sources of nourishment.

Distinguished by their vampiric appearance, generations spent beneath the dense canopy have left them highly sensitive to the light of the Abyss. Those who venture beyond the forest are often, not always, seen concealed beneath broad brimmed hats, heavy veils, or layered garments that shield their eyes from the unfamiliar brightness.

Location:

Their territory is as dangerous as its inhabitants. The deepest parts of the Dark Forest are overrun with carnivorous flora, poisonous fungi, and countless unidentified creatures that coexist alongside the Noctivorus in an uneasy balance. The abundance of death within these woods has transformed them into one of the most avoided regions in the Abyss, where even seasoned travelers seldom dare to wander.

Sightings:

Despite their fearsome reputation, not all Noctivorus remain bound to the isolation of their swarms. On VERY rare occasions, individuals have abandoned their feral way of life and integrated into broader Abyssal society. Through immense discipline, these few learn to suppress their instinct to feed upon fellow Abyssals, sustaining themselves instead on the flesh of normal animals and other common foods. Though many are met with suspicion and prejudice, these exceptions stand as proof that the hunger of a Noctivorus is not always stronger than its will.

The Mourning Husk

Among the many horrors hidden beneath the canopy of the Dark Forest, none are more feared than the husks left behind by the Noctivorus.

When a Noctivorus captures its prey, it does not kill immediately. Instead, the victim is imprisoned within a living sarcophagus spun from hardened and crystallized abyssal essence. These pods, known among most as Sarcothecae, remain suspended from branches or rooted against ancient trunks, their translucent glowing membranes allowing only the faintest glimpse of the prisoner trapped within.

The shell serves two purposes. It prevents escape while keeping its captive alive, allowing the Noctivorus to return days, weeks, or even months later. Until eventually, teeth meet flesh.

Noctivorus show little distinction between prey. Lost Abyssals, wandering beasts, and even rival Noctivorus from competing swarms are sealed within these living coffins alike. Cannibalism is not merely tolerated, it is an essential means of eliminating competition and reclaiming status and energy.

When feeding is complete, only an empty shell remains.

These abandoned cocoons are known by other Abyssals as Mourning Husks.

Their translucent chambers are often stained dark where life once lingered, and fragments of crystalline residue still pulse with fading warmth. Many believe the husks whisper when the forest grows silent, not with voices, but with lingering echoes of the despair experienced by those imprisoned within. Just like trees whisper of happiness, these husks scream for mercy. Whether this is truth or superstition remains unknown.

Entire groves of the Dark Forest exist because of this endless cycle.

The Noctivorus do not merely consume flesh. The remnants of countless victims enrich the soil with abyssal essence, causing unnatural trees to erupt from the graves of the devoured. Twisted roots dig deep from these remains, growing into towering black trunks whose bark bears the faint reminder of those who fed on them.

To walk through the Dark Forest is to walk through a cemetery that never stopped growing.

Every towering tree marks a life claimed.

Every Mourning Husk hanging overhead often marks a gruesome scene beneath.

Though most Sarcothecae serve as living prisons, they are not reserved only for prey. Noctivorus are frequently observed weaving empty Sarcothecae as resting places, retreating inside them to sleep suspended upside down for days at a time. From the outside, there is often no visible distinction between a cocoon holding a doomed captive and one concealing a dormant predator. Many explorers have mistaken these silent husks for abandoned Mourning Husks, only to awaken the creature within. Veteran Abyssals know better than to approach any intact Sarcotheca, for one may hold the dead… while another lightly sleeps. While dormant, they are exceptionally difficult to distinguish from occupied Sarcothecae or abandoned Mourning Husks, making encounters within Noctivorus territory especially hazardous.