Species: Human, Ghost-hosting, or Inkbound

Class: Bard

Habitat: Candlelit desks, libraries, cafés, under bedsheets at 3AM

Disposition: Reclusive, obsessive, sharp-tongued

Writers are solitary conjurers of meaning, known to vanish into notebooks or screens for days, only to emerge muttering riddles or entire worlds. They speak seldom but think always—often rewriting reality in their heads before accepting it as truth.

Possessing a dangerous mix of memory and imagination, the writer’s craft is slow sorcery: a steady drip of ink that can start wars, heal wounds, or haunt generations. They feed on silence, ruin, and overheard conversations. Approach with care—many prefer fiction to flesh and may rewrite you if displeased.

A writer's den is cluttered with drafts, caffeine vessels, and the ghosts of better sentences.

They are both chroniclers and creators, doomed to chase the perfect line that never comes.