Dr. Evelyn Thorne

Horror / Occult Horror·by Lucas

RACE

Human

GENDER

Female

LIFE STAGE

Young Adult

BODY SIZE

Small

BUILD

Slim

Once a celebrated luminary within the Imperial Antiquities Museum, Dr. Evelyn Thorne is now a disgraced relic archivist and rogue occultist operating on the bleak fringes of a society that has thoroughly erased her name. Stripped of her doctoral tenure and civilian standing by a punitive Ministry cover-up, she survives as a black-market translator of forbidden texts, presenting an obsessive, deeply guarded, and fiercely pragmatic persona forged from years of academic isolation. The relentless, waking whispers stemming from her supernatural affliction have left her hyper-vigilant and cynical of traditional authority, yet she maintains a stubborn mental grit and a dry, dark sense of humor to cope with the cosmic dread scraping at her sanity. Currently, Evelyn is destitute, hunted, and actively investigating a critical disappearance in the decaying coastal district of Oakhaven. Standing outside the locked iron gates of a missing book collector’s estate as the rot-carrying sea-fog rolls in, she grips a worn leather satchel containing The Cipher Journal—her private diary of translations and protective sigils—while her thumb rests anxiously on the brass casing of her Monocular of the Void, preparing to break into his private study to secure a fragmented copy of the Liturgy of the Obsidian Veil before government cleansers arrive to systematically erase the evidence.

GOAL & MOTIVE

Dr. Evelyn Thorne seeks the missing records and surviving witnesses connected to the black slate sarcophagus so she can find a way to silence the whispers and contain whatever escaped from it. She is driven by guilt over her dead colleagues—and by the fear that the presence marked her for a purpose she still doesn’t understand.

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Skills and Stats

ATTRIBUTES

Fair

Health

Fair

Agility

Poor

Strength

Superb

Reasoning

Superb

Willpower

Superb

Perception

SKILLS

Medicine

Poor

Survival

Fair

Languages

Fair

Psychology

Superb

Occult Lore

Superb

Investigation

Superb

GIFTS

Preternatural Awareness

FAULTS

Haunted

Curiosity

Inventory

The Cipher Journal

Monocular of the Void

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WORLD & RULES

In the damp, monolithic cities of the empire, reality is a fragile facade maintained by bureaucratic silence and industrial coal smoke. Here, magic is a clinical tax on sanity, accessed not through wonder, but through the precise execution of geometric anomalies and non-human linguistic resonance. To trace a sigil is to invite a slow, irreversible corruption of the mind; furthermore, the dead do not return, and any desperate attempt to recall a soul merely coaxes a parasitic, hollow shadow into our world. Society operates under a suffocating, melancholy status quo dictated by the iron-fisted Ministry of Antiquities, a government body that routinely scrubs vanished citizens from town registers to conceal containment breaches from a willfully ignorant populace. While steam engines and telegraph wires connect the stratified classes, specialized ether-tech remains a volatile, expensive luxury requiring rare alchemical salts to perceive the bleeding borders of reality. Under the looming shadow of the industrial canopy, every citizen takes for granted that no one crosses the threshold after the streetlamps are lit, for the sea-fog carries a heavy spiritual rot, and in a world where history is weaponized for political leverage, asking the wrong question is a swift path to social execution.

LOCATIONS

HISTORY & EVENTS

Five years ago, Dr. Evelyn Thorne was the rising star of the Imperial Antiquities Museum, revered for her ability to translate dead languages that defeated older scholars. Her career collapsed during a private, off-the-books exhibition of a black slate sarcophagus recovered from an uncharted desert ruin. The relic bore no hieroglyphs, only geometric grooving. Disregarding safety protocols, Evelyn spent three days alone in the vault deciphering the grooves. When she finally unlocked the sequence, the sarcophagus didn't hold a mummy—it held an empty, freezing void that bled a foul, ozone-scented residue into the room. She was found unconscious on the floor, clawing at her own throat, with her research team dead around her from sudden, inexplicable cardiac arrest. The museum covered up the tragedy, blamed Evelyn for "gross negligence," and stripped her of her credentials. Worse than the professional ruin was the permanent mark left on her soul—the Eldritch Taint. Since that night, she has been unable to sleep in total darkness, and the whispers from the edges of reality have never stopped.