Mark Conway

Stone faced ruiner, I beg you do not leave, let this home bask in wet light.

When the thousand thousand tongues were cut the song of life ceased to pool. Time turned into a vicious tooth. Was paradise before this filled with a more doting light Was it red and cruel as now? Could one dry in it?

In the Rungs, True Names are rarely spoken. These haunts of demiurges clasp together as hands in a great chain, and we as motes move upon them.

You poured the anointing oil upon your stone face, its puissance made you heavy, shattering Rungs as you plummet. You consumed thing. Nascent doom that you are.

RUINER is a rules lite retro-clone standing upon the shoulders of replicated giants. Assess your Abilities, choose your Anointment, and hide your True Name before exploring the countless Rungs which now dot this strange new existence.

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