The Lore of Wraith Deacon Lenora of the Dread Tower

Nobody expects the common wraith
to yearn for anything, to have a thought
besides destruction. But each has their faith,
their treasured dreams and memories. One ought
to understand—behind the shattered plates
and soured milk, a person still exists,
still longs for something. Few believe in fate
and most wraiths trail the folk that they most missed
in life. Driven to madness by their trials,
the hunted come to me, beg for reprieve
from their pursuers. In my crystal vials
the distilled essence can tempt wraiths to leave
a futile task alone. But sometimes, no—
such victims must withstand eternal woe.

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