Wraiths
The Wraiths of Ironwood
The dead never leave Ironwood. They linger in the forgotten corners of its factories, whisper in the damp forests, and watch from the rust-stained windows of abandoned mill houses. In the World of Darkness, the restless dead are known as Wraiths, souls trapped between life and whatever lies beyond. They are not simply “ghosts” but fractured, tormented echoes of people who once lived, caught in a liminal state of both suffering and hunger.
Wraiths exist because of unresolved ties—to people, places, promises, or tragedies that bind them to the world of the living. Some died violently and cannot let go of their rage, others remain bound by love or duty, and some are chained to Ironwood itself, its soil and steel a magnet for restless spirits. To be a Wraith is to be torn: half clinging to existence, half drawn into the consuming void of Oblivion.
Arrival in Ironwood
Though Wraiths are not newcomers—they have always existed wherever death touched mortal lives—the industrial rise of Ironwood created an unusually powerful spiritual population. Early logging camps saw gruesome accidents, with men crushed beneath redwood giants. The steel mills forged both wealth and death, as countless workers were maimed or burned alive in the furnaces. Wars, disease, and labor riots left trails of blood in the cobbled streets of Ironwood’s early years. Each of these deaths, often unjust or unresolved, bound more souls to the city.
In the 20th century, Ironwood became a spiritual hotspot. The Broken Pentex Waterplant disaster, waves of organized crime murders in Hollowpoint, and a steady rise in poverty-related deaths built a restless graveyard that never truly slept. These traumas created what Wraiths call Fetters—anchors that tied their shades more tightly to the material world. Ironwood’s physical corruption and spiritual imbalance attracted Hierarchs, Renegades, and even Heretics, who saw the city as fertile ground for shaping their own domains within the Shadowlands.
What Wraiths Are
A Wraith is not a whole person. They are two voices in one: the remnant of their living soul, and a parasitic darker self known as the Shadow. The Shadow embodies everything destructive, selfish, or despairing in the Wraith’s nature, whispering poison into their thoughts. The battle between these two sides defines wraithly existence—some hold fast, others succumb.
Most Wraiths are invisible to mortals, slipping through walls and lingering in places tied to their Fetters. They can affect the physical world in small ways—causing cold chills, flickering lights, breaking fragile objects. Stronger Wraiths may cross into dreams, twist emotions, or even manifest briefly in ghostly form. Yet every use of their power draws the Shadow closer.
Organization and Culture
Wraith society in Ironwood mirrors that of the living: fragmented, contested, and haunted by failure. Their structures come from the broader Underworld:
The Hierarchy: An ancient, bureaucratic empire of the dead. They demand order and obedience, often through cruel systems of indenture. In Ironwood, their enforcers operate out of Spiritglass Lake’s drowned ruins, dragging new Wraiths into their ranks.
Renegades: Rebels who reject the Hierarchy’s tyranny. They congregate in ruined factories and subway tunnels beneath Midtown, trying to carve out havens of freedom, but often descending into gang-like violence.
Heretics: Wraiths obsessed with transcendence. They gather in Ironwood’s forests and forgotten chapels, building cults around visions of escape or salvation. Some claim the estuary is a gateway to release, others promise that worship of abstract ideals—hope, fire, the sea—will grant freedom.
Despite their divisions, Wraiths share culture. They cling to Passions (love, hate, duty, vengeance) as the fuel of their un-life. Songs, whispered stories, and re-enactments of memory define their interactions. Ironwood Wraiths often recreate “living” versions of the city within the Shadowlands: spectral taverns, rusted factories lit by ghostly furnaces, and shadowed forests where echoes of long-dead animals still roam.
Why They Stay
Wraiths are bound to the living world by their Fetters: the house they built, the child they failed to protect, the forest they loved. Ironwood, full of half-finished lives and broken promises, offers endless Fetters. A dead steelworker might be tied to the factory whistle, a drowned logger to the felled grove of Bloodroot Valley. Leaving the city means severing themselves from the very things that give them existence.
But there is more. Ironwood’s spiritual wounds—corruption, industry, neglect—have left it vulnerable to the growing pull of Oblivion, the all-devouring void at the heart of death. Many Wraiths sense that Ironwood is teetering on the brink, and they stay because their fate is now inseparable from the city’s. Some hope to save it, others to rule it, and some simply watch as the darkness deepens.
Beliefs and Worldview
Wraiths in Ironwood tend toward cynicism and obsession. Having tasted death, they see life as fragile and fleeting, yet their very presence is proof of its endurance. Some believe they are cursed, punished for sins or weakness. Others cling to their mission: to protect a family, reveal a truth, or avenge their death. A rare few, touched by Heretic creeds, believe Ironwood itself is alive—its forests, rivers, and bones humming with purpose—and that their unending watch is service to a larger spirit.
Most Wraiths agree on one thing: mortals cannot know. While many long to speak to loved ones, attempts to cross that gulf end in heartbreak or horror. Their existence is defined by silence, and in that silence, stories twist into myths.
Relations with Other Supernaturals
Garou: The werewolves see Wraiths as remnants of imbalance, echoes of death that should have passed on. Yet some Garou are moved by pity, treating them as casualties of the Wyrm’s corruption. Wraiths, in turn, sometimes serve as guides to the Umbra, whispering warnings or revealing hidden enemies.
Vampires: Vampires and Wraiths share an uneasy kinship as creatures tied to death. Some Kindred exploit Wraiths as spies or sources of occult power, while others fear their incorporeal meddling. Wraiths, for their part, resent vampires for “stealing” life and reveling in hunger.
Mages: Mages are both allies and threats. Some attempt to bind or banish Wraiths through rituals; others see them as sources of wisdom about the Underworld. Wraiths are wary—mages meddle too deeply in mysteries best left alone.
Changelings: The fae-touched often perceive Wraiths more clearly than mortals. Some changelings even befriend them, finding common ground in their shared sense of exile. Wraiths, however, envy their lingering vitality.
The Wraiths of Ironwood Today
Ironwood’s Wraiths are a city beneath a city, a spectral mirror of all that was lost. They stalk abandoned mills, haunt riverbanks, and crowd the back alleys of the Shadowlands version of Midtown. They tell stories of the living they watch, make wagers on political scandals, and rage when another of their kind is lost to Oblivion.
Yet beneath their ghostly existence is a gnawing truth: Ironwood is dying, and so are they. With each poisoned river, collapsed neighborhood, or betrayal of trust, the city’s spirit frays further, and more Wraiths are consumed by the dark. Still, they remain—because Ironwood is their prison, their kingdom, their battlefield, and their last chance at meaning in a world that has already forgotten them.