Welcome to Enshrined

Reality is not ruled—it is endured. Trapped on an island where gods, mortals, and beasts struggle in an endless cycle against forces beyond their grasp, the world shifts like the tides.

WILL YOU CARVE YOUR OWN PATH?

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Bend the island’s reality, or fall to its power?

Enshrined is a Dungeons & Dragons 5E supplement offering a complete sourcebook filled with rich dark-fantasy lore, eldritch-born horrors, and fresh mechanics tailored for 5E. Streamline your table with new systems for crafting, social intrigue, and modular combat. Swear fealty to ancient gods, or forge your own path.

Transform Your Table

Alchemist’s Harvest

A Refined D&D 5e Potion System Master the art of alchemy with refined potion crafting mechanics, fully compatible with your 5E campaigns. Combine ingredients, experiment with effects, and turn every hunt into an opportunity. With expanded loot tables for creatures and plants, every battle holds the key to your next creation.

The Creedmark System

Faction Ties That Actually Matter Shape your legacy with the Creedmark System. Build alliances, earn favor, or make enemies as your reputation spreads beyond the party. Forge connections, unlock unique rewards, and carve out your place in a world that remembers your choices

The Forge System

Modular Weapons & Armour in 5e Forge your own destiny with modular weapon and armor crafting. Gather components from your adventures, steal them, buy them, craft them, or take them from fallen foes. As you grow, so do your weapons and armor, evolving alongside their wielder.

Here’s some art for you!

On this island, gods, mortals, and beasts are caught in an unending struggle, where death is not an end but an opportunity. Fate binds all, even the divine, shackled by invisible and unbreakable laws.

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The World of Enshrined

Reality is not ruled, it is endured.

On this island, gods, mortals, and beasts struggle in an endless cycle where death is not an end but an opportunity. Fate binds all, even the divine, shackled by laws unseen and unbroken.

Everyone carries their burdens. The echoes of fallen gods seep into the roots of the earth and the void of the sky, altering flesh, and twisting minds. To walk this land is to brush against divinity, but divinity is no gift. It is hunger. It is wrath. It is the slow, creeping touch of something vast and uncaring.

Power is never given, only taken, and always at a cost. Those who rise carve their names into the world’s core. But the deeper they cut, the less of themselves remains. Every triumph leaves a scar. 

The island does not reward ambition. It devours it.

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Beyond them, mysterious Wardens tirelessly patrol forbidden lands, indiscriminately striking down trespassers. Rune Mites build living fortresses and the Mung devour endlessly, cursed with an insatiable hunger.
Beyond them, mysterious Wardens tirelessly patrol forbidden lands, indiscriminately striking down trespassers. Rune Mites build living fortresses and the Mung devour endlessly, cursed with an insatiable hunger.
Even the gods are not safe—executioners and victims alike, bound by riddles of their own making. To worship them is to gamble with madness; to defy them is to risk something worse.  The island watches, waits, and remembers
Even the gods are not safe—executioners and victims alike, bound by riddles of their own making. To worship them is to gamble with madness; to defy them is to risk something worse.  The island watches, waits, and remembers
The gods suffer. Shackled and silenced, torn apart by their very essence. Their agony is boundless, and so too must be ours. In their torment, we find kinship and strength through that kinship. It moulds us, grants us the means to endure barren lands, dominate our foes, and carve purpose from a world adrift in chaos.
The gods suffer. Shackled and silenced, torn apart by their very essence. Their agony is boundless, and so too must be ours. In their torment, we find kinship and strength through that kinship. It moulds us, grants us the means to endure barren lands, dominate our foes, and carve purpose from a world adrift in chaos.
The gods are not kings upon thrones nor beasts of storm and fury. They do not walk among us, nor need us. Yet we insist on carving their forms, whispering their names or building temples that crumble beneath their silence. We shape them to hide the truth… we are not their children, only their muffled echoes. To journey into this world is to walk through the scars of their struggle. The gods are not stories. They are the world itself.
The gods are not kings upon thrones nor beasts of storm and fury. They do not walk among us, nor need us. Yet we insist on carving their forms, whispering their names or building temples that crumble beneath their silence. We shape them to hide the truth… we are not their children, only their muffled echoes. To journey into this world is to walk through the scars of their struggle. The gods are not stories. They are the world itself.
The living were never meant to commune with the gods, kept at a distance by ritual. The air flickers, the water thickens and the earth bleeds with something unnatural. You will feel it in your bones. All who touch it are changed. Some subtly, others beyond recognition. To explore this world is to brush against something vast and feel it looking back. No one leaves untouched.
The living were never meant to commune with the gods, kept at a distance by ritual. The air flickers, the water thickens and the earth bleeds with something unnatural. You will feel it in your bones. All who touch it are changed. Some subtly, others beyond recognition. To explore this world is to brush against something vast and feel it looking back. No one leaves untouched.
There is no righteousness, only hunger, only the will to endure. No force is purely good or wholly wicked… all things are a cycle of creation and decay. The Rune Bastion is proof, a churning monolith of devouring things, shaping flesh and ruins into something new, then moving on never sated.
There is no righteousness, only hunger, only the will to endure. No force is purely good or wholly wicked… all things are a cycle of creation and decay. The Rune Bastion is proof, a churning monolith of devouring things, shaping flesh and ruins into something new, then moving on never sated.
The gods are conflict made flesh, their bodies and the earth itself stained by endless war. We, somewhat, their wretched spawn, are cursed to inherit their suffering… Twisted by their folly, broken by their wrath, and shackled to a fate that was never ours to choose.
The gods are conflict made flesh, their bodies and the earth itself stained by endless war. We, somewhat, their wretched spawn, are cursed to inherit their suffering… Twisted by their folly, broken by their wrath, and shackled to a fate that was never ours to choose.
The gods are not their names or their forms, only what we imagine them to be. One calls them salvation, another ruin. Neither is wrong. They exist in shadow, in whispers, in what remains. And still we seek them. Because something waits beyond the ruins, and that is enough.
The gods are not their names or their forms, only what we imagine them to be. One calls them salvation, another ruin. Neither is wrong. They exist in shadow, in whispers, in what remains. And still we seek them. Because something waits beyond the ruins, and that is enough.

Pledge for Worship Sacrifice for Purge for The Gods

On this island, gods, mortals, and beasts are caught in an unending struggle, where death is not an end but an opportunity. Fate binds all, even the divine, shackled by invisible and unbreakable laws.

Mung
The Hungering One
Mung was never meant to know hunger. It was the first need, the first desire. Now it writhes beneath the world, buried where no feast can reach it, where no flesh can satisfy its endless craving. Yet it waits. Its roots reach up, giving rise to grotesque sanguine-trees. The fruit calls… a whisper in bone, a promise the blood. Those who eat it are changed, hollowed and filled again with Mung’s insatiable will. They devour, they spread, they serve. Their feasts are not indulgences, but rituals. Each bite brings the god closer to the surface.
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Guildwallin
The Blue Traveler
There was a time when Guildwallin spoke, and the world listened. But knowledge, granted too easily, is a bitter curse. Drifting between the veils of reality, the all-knowing god is now a silent spectre, endlessly gathering wisdom across the world, that can never be shared. Its words rot in the air, dissolving into nonsense before reaching mortal ears. Its hands carve madness and its visions are twisted into cryptic scribbles. A god of understanding, now consumed by incomprehension. Yet it does not stop. It cannot. Even as the truth it carries unravels its mind.
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Nagla
The Blooming One
Change is life. Death is renewal. This was Nagla’s law. But laws are meant to be broken. In its wake, Nagla rots within the wheel it once turned, bound to an endless, festering loop. The god of growth is trapped in blooming decay. It has died a thousand deaths and drawn its first breath a thousand more. The first time, Nagla wept. The thousandth time, it laughed. The millionth, it simply stared. Empathy has withered into repetitive mud, and pain lingers like a fading memory. Nagla watches the world turn, unmoved by agony, untouched by joy.
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Alduthun
The Wanderer
God of travel, the journey, exploration and natural discovery, Alduthun’s punishment is to be chained in place, facing the earth and surrounded by obscuring clouds and peaks, never to see a new sight or have a new experience.
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Ohnal
The Guilty
God of order, ruling, judgement and control, Ohnal’s punishment is to be saddled with the guilt for all wrongs in the world as well as having control over even their own form wrested from them. Each hand, foot and eye act independently, incapable of coordination and thus incapable of truly restoring order.
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Ptsunomi
The Whisper in The Storm
Ptsunomi is the goddess of fortune, humility and subtlety. Being the closest to her worshipers, Ptsunomi was by far the most human on the gods and delighted in bringing good fortune to her children. Her punishment is that while she may continue bestowing blessing upon her followers, they are to be subtle to the point of being mistaken for happenstance or being attributed to efforts of the one who benefits from her attentions. In a world where other people receive obvious boons from their gods, Ptsunomi’s followers believe themselves abandoned and score her instead.
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Kib
The Nine Fold
God of ego, mastery and conquest, Kib’s punishment was to be shattered into nine fragments, each representing one aspect of their dominion. Where once was the mightiest of the gods, now their power is split, reduced to the point where they can but survive, their ego’s stopping them from cooperating except to stave off destruction.
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Mung
The Hungering One
Mung was never meant to know hunger. It was the first need, the first desire. Now it writhes beneath the world, buried where no feast can reach it, where no flesh can satisfy its endless craving. Yet it waits. Its roots reach up, giving rise to grotesque sanguine-trees. The fruit calls… a whisper in bone, a promise the blood. Those who eat it are changed, hollowed and filled again with Mung’s insatiable will. They devour, they spread, they serve. Their feasts are not indulgences, but rituals. Each bite brings the god closer to the surface
Learn More
Guildwallin
The Blue Traveler
There was a time when Guildwallin spoke, and the world listened. But knowledge, granted too easily, is a bitter curse. Drifting between the veils of reality, the all-knowing god is now a silent spectre, endlessly gathering wisdom across the world, that can never be shared. Its words rot in the air, dissolving into nonsense before reaching mortal ears. Its hands carve madness and its visions are twisted into cryptic scribbles. A god of understanding, now consumed by incomprehension. Yet it does not stop. It cannot. Even as the truth it carries unravels its mind
Learn More
Nagla
The Blooming One
Change is life. Death is renewal. This was Nagla’s law. But laws are meant to be broken. In its wake, Nagla rots within the wheel it once turned, bound to an endless, festering loop. The god of growth is trapped in blooming decay. It has died a thousand deaths and drawn its first breath a thousand more. The first time, Nagla wept. The thousandth time, it laughed. The millionth, it simply stared. Empathy has withered into repetitive mud, and pain lingers like a fading memory. Nagla watches the world turn, unmoved by agony, untouched by joy.
Learn More
Adulthun
The Wanderer
God of travel, the journey, exploration and natural discovery, Alduthun’s punishment is to be chained in place, facing the earth and surrounded by obscuring clouds and peaks, never to see a new sight or have a new experience
Learn More
Ohnal
The Guilty
God of order, ruling, judgement and control, Ohnal’s punishment is to be saddled with the guilt for all wrongs in the world as well as having control over even their own form wrested from them. Each hand, foot and eye act independently, incapable of coordination and thus incapable of truly restoring order.
Learn More
Ptsunomi
The Whisper in The Storm
Ptsunomi is the goddess of fortune, humility and subtlety. Being the closest to her worshipers, Ptsunomi was by far the most human on the gods and delighted in bringing good fortune to her children. Her punishment is that while she may continue bestowing blessing upon her followers, they are to be subtle to the point of being mistaken for happenstance or being attributed to efforts of the one who benefits from her attentions. In a world where other people receive obvious boons from their gods, Ptsunomi’s followers believe themselves abandoned and score her instead
Learn More
Kib
The Nine Fold
God of ego, mastery and conquest, Kib’s punishment was to be shattered into nine fragments, each representing one aspect of their dominion. Where once was the mightiest of the gods, now their power is split, reduced to the point where they can but survive, their ego’s stopping them from cooperating except to stave off destruction.
Learn More

Will you Carve your own path?

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The Hungering One

Mung

Acolytes of Mung

The followers of Mung are colloquially known as the Acolytes. Formed from the weak and the outcast, they are infected through the fruit of Mung and will often lure in friends and family to likewise join the fold. Primitive villages will quickly spring up around a Mung polyp which will serve as both a form of nourishment and the source of their power. The Acolytes are as close to physical perfection as the mortal body can become, universally being in excellent health, almost supernaturally strong and perpetually hungry. They have no formalised industries, farming or trade and subsist by raiding travelers or smaller towns. The strong from their raids become the next generation of Acolytes, the weak are fed to Mung.  

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The Blue Traveler

Guildwallin

Scholars of Infinity

The followers of Guildwallin are known as the Scholars. Clustering in remote research stations, libraries and compounds, the Scholars represent the pinnacle of technological and magical prowess. However, their delvings into ever more extreme subjects have left them mutated and insane by most standards and as a result interaction with them is rarely voluntary. Where Scholars would once have traveled the roads, teaching in towns and by the roadside, their propensity for spreading maddening knowledge or abduction means that they are rarely welcome outside of their own circles and are often killed on sight if found isolated. Thus all the accumulated knowledge of the Scholars remains locked away inside their libraries

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The blooming one

Nagla

The Lingering

Followers of Nagla are known as the Lingering and their society is dominated by the fact that they are immortal. While the Lingering can die, they are always reincarnated in time and will eventually have the memories of their former lives return to them. This has led to a society of monuments as many an artist will spend thousands of lifetimes upon a single work or project. However, endless reincarnation means that everyone has been the child, parent and lover to every other person in their society and as such, relationships between Lingering is an impenetrable web of affections, grudges, jealousies and every other emotion one can feel for another. Their perfect recollection of their previous lives leaves them incapable of forgetting or forgiving and so every life is the same as the one before. The Lingering also have a somewhat blase attitude towards death, and will not hesitate to end the life of someone who they consider to be in ill health, annoying or for a myriad of other reasons. This is fine within Lingering society but often this attitude affects outsiders as well.

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The Wanderer

Alduthun

The Anchored

Followers of Alduthun are known as the Anchored for they are a people trapped in place. Born with endless wanderlust and a desire to see the word, the Anchored are found exclusively in valleys which they cannot leave for doing so is certain death to them. As a result, they live semi nomadic lifestyles within their home valleys in order to explore every nook and cranny. They are also the preeminent astronomers as many who have explored as much of the world as they can will take to looking at the skies instead. Once every decade, the Anchored will hold an event known as the Festival of Roads, where outsiders are encouraged to attend. To outsiders, the festival represents a great opportunity for trading and unmatched hospitality, for the Anchored it can bring in rare goods from the outside world, but more importantly, the travelers bring stories of their journeys as well as offering of dirt, ashes, worn shoes and walking sticks. Essence of travel that may be offered to Alduthun.

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The guilty

Ohnal

The Stoke

Followers of Ohnal are known as the Stoke. Living in the harsh conditions of the mountains, the Stoke are a hearty people. Lacking any real form of central authority, the Stoke instead find self reliance within their family units or local community. Travelers know that stopping in a Pilgrim homestead will find them a warm bed and hearty meal for the Pilgrims are generous to a fault. Generally jovial but with an underlying sense of melancholy, the Pilgrims have a strong sense of justice and will come to the aid of someone they believe has been wronged, a trait sometimes exploited by the less noble. The only form of central authority in Pilgrim society are the priests who in extreme circumstances will call for ‘the ceremony’ to occur. Marching through Pilgrim lands, they will chant a tale of a great injustice, forming a quasi hive mind amongst the Pilgrims who will join them on the march, many dying in the process. From the survivors, a hunter will be chosen to enact the justice of Ohnal upon the offending party.  

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The whisper in the storm

Ptsunomi

The Forsaken

The Forsaken are nominally the followers of Ptsunomi, believing themselves to be abandoned by their god. As a result, personal accomplishment and the boasting thereof plays an important part in Forsaken society. Found along the shores, the territory of the Forsaken has a pleasant climate but is scarce in resources. The Forsaken survive primarily by scavenging shipwrecks and other flotsam, taking what they need and trading the rest. Outsiders know to hold their purse tight for the Forsaken are also notorious thieves and highwaymen. While the Forsaken view outsiders as targets, internally they place great emphasis on helping one’s neighbor. Afterall, if Ptsunomi won’t do it, then they will have to step up

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The nine fold

Kib

The Kib

Taking the namesake of their god, the Kib are split into nine tribes. While not at war with each other, they rarely cooperate, instead each choosing to pursue their own goals. Living a nomadic lifestyle, the Kib are frequently at odds with their neighbors. Moving from region to region, the Kib will establish a village and proceed to strip the area of resources and more importantly, magical energies. Kib society is highly militaristic and they have by far the most developed industries when it comes to metallurgy and tool making. While the Kib generally have tense relationships with the other cultures, they will often engage in trade and limited diplomacy. The one exception to this is the Scholars who the Kib have been at war with for as long as can be remembered, viewing them and their god as abominations.

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