Many of The Roofed Fissure fear The Abyss that lurks deep below their feet, all who have ventured close or fallen in have never been found. That was until a nameless, blind child was tossed into the abyss so that it would not mar the legacy of their now fallen house. A normal child would have died, but this particular child, born with a magical blindness, was taken in by the ever sinking darkness, and as the child fell they were molded into a conduit for the pit itself.
 
A being now known as "The Voice". They are still fully Human, but inky black blood runs through their veins, compelling them to wander through the fissure, and spread their message. not one of fear, or hate. not one of subjugation, but one of comfort. Comfort in the inescapable void of death. There is no pain, there is no joy. there is no reward. there is no torture. just an endless pit of nothing, that seeks nothing more than for you to sleep peacefully... for eternity.
 
Many who encounter The Voice treat them with abject terror, no one likes to be faced with their own mortality, especially if they have their own reservations about the afterlife. There are a select few who have taken the nigh madness inducing words of The Voice, and formed a small cult around the albeit weak figure, and the great pit below forming what is known as "The sightless eyes of the abyss." a very small cabal of monks who preach the same views as The Voice, with the same calm demeanor.