Peacebond

High in the hills lies a bricked-over cave mouth, and inside it dozens of corpses the cold has preserved for centuries—many with malformed jaws, oversized teeth, and elongated clawed fingers, few bearing any wound. They appear simply to have lain down and died, for the looping glyphs carved across the cave walls sap the will to struggle, to fight, to do much of anything. Transcribing the glyphs takes days haunted by the morose shades that still linger, and you risk surrendering to the same ennui that emptied the cave. Master them and you can suppress violence wherever you mark them.