Umbra

Umbra

Umbra begins as Blackflower: a blue-veined blossom cultivated in the depths of the Root tier. Its resin passes through several stages of refinement:

  • Blackflower resin — the raw reactive sap harvested from the blossom

  • Umbra — a viscous black distillate drawn off before the resin hardens

  • Shadowglass — the crystalline lattice formed when the refined resin condenses

  • Blackstar — an exceedingly rare, luminous crystallization of Shadowglass

Thus Umbra is not the parent substance of Shadowglass, but its volatile sibling—the bastard child of the same refinement.

Prepared at different strengths, it may serve as narcotic, stimulant, medicine, or neurotoxin. At its weakest, Umbra produces euphoria and a sweet, sustaining haze. Medick-grade preparations accelerate healing. Military concentrations sharpen reflexes, endurance, and perception to inhuman extremes. At its strongest, every surface bleeds data, shadows whisper probabilities, and the user may glimpse every possible future at once.

But the shine has bite.

Cut too pure, and the mind ruptures beneath what it sees.

Cut too dirty, and the body liquefies from within.

Those who survive prolonged corruption are called Rotters.

To mystics, Umbra offers a glimpse through the Veil. To chemists, it is a psychoactive neurotoxin. To the desperate, it is escape, endurance, or one more borrowed hour.

To the Synod of Solarium, it is forbidden.

Except, of course, when it isn’t.

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Sacrament before Scourge

Umbra was always in the blood of this city.

​Before it became Raptoraem’s most coveted export, Umbra was sacred. Loommistresses of the Spider Shrine wove it into rites. Veil cults called it a key to communing with the Blessed Five. Blackflower petals were burned in offerings or brewed into elixirs to speak with ancestors.

​Then came the Cull.

When Netherkin were driven from the caverns, mercenaries discovered Umbra’s practical horrors. It enhanced stamina, dulled fear, prolonged combat prowess. But it also fractured minds, created dependency, and birthed a new class of addict-warriors.

​Among those conscripted to clean the tunnels were two boys:

Leopold Lang: big-hearted, brave and rootbound

Erik Mordiger: quiet, sharp-eyed, and always seeking.

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The Two Boys

Armed with nothing but keen wits and bruised fists, Erik and Leo began small — lacing cigarette paper with Umbra extract, fencing them up through Smuggler’s Cove, and trading with foreign mercenaries or washed-up veterans.

​Soon a trade was born.

In the Pit's Canine Tier, they set up the first bonded shop:  

Fake licenses. Real product. And demand that never dipped. 

Leopold was the charm —  soothing nerves and loosening coin. Mordiger stayed in shadow — the boy with ink-stained fingers, tweaking weight slips, cooking profits, and covering tracks.

​Even then, he was learning to lie like law.

​From this humble den, the stall spawned into the Vertex Market: a shadow economy of bootlegged goods and hard bargains. Its steel undergirding let Raptoraem dodge Synod tariffs, skirt trade laws, and build a civic shell around a criminal core. 

​After Leopold’s murder in the Black Wake, Mordiger did what he always did:

He kept the books.

Then he rewrote them.

​Rebranded The Vertex Consortium, the operation was expanded across all Five Struts as a civic salvage guild. Today, the original charter still hangs in a few bonded warehouses. A miner’s oath, scrawled in soot.

It's a lie no one bothers to read anymore.

They just sign beneath it.​

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A Profitable Poison

The Vertex Consortium is Raptoraem’s largest bonded trade syndicate — a sprawling network of freight lines, salvage crews, and warehousing guilds headquartered in the Pit.

​Founded by Erik Mordiger, the unsung Black Maw, Vertex claims to support “ethical salvage” and civic recovery. In truth, it is the primary artery of the Black Market, and the sole controller of Umbra and its coveted byproduct:

Shadowglass.

​Every Strut is in on the act:

  • ​Strait of Silks – Weaves the satchels for flower harvesters.

  • Strait of Stone – Boils raw extract in underground brine vats.

  • Strait of Coal – Refines Umbra into crystalline Shadowglass.

  • Strait of Gold – Launders payments, bribes, and false ledgers.

  • Strait of Veils – Disguises exports in crates of religious tracts and monk phials.

​Each Strutlord swears they’re not complicit.

Each one signs the ledger anyway.

​

Officially, Umbra is outlawed under Solarian doctrine.

The Synod calls it heretical: a toxin of the Pit, spiritually corruptive and socially destabilizing. Possession carries mandatory sentencing. Distribution invites worse.

Unofficially, Umbra has crossed the Cistern for years through incense crates, sea-salt casks, and falsified cargo manifests. Every Proctor claims clean hands. Solarium’s ports, merchants, soldiers, and private households tell another story.

The truth is simpler than heresy:

Umbra sells.

But Umbra is only one product of the Blackflower.

During refinement, reactive distillate is drawn from Blackflower resin before it hardens. That distillate becomes Umbra. What remains condenses into Shadowglass, a crystalline conductor known within Solarium by a cleaner civic name:

Lumen.

The distinction allows the Synod to condemn one product of the Pit while building its miracles upon another.

Solarium’s Heliometer—the towering civic timekeeper installed atop the Grand Quadrivium—runs on Lumen. Its clocks regulate military posts, factories, administrative offices, and the daily rhythms of Solarian life.

Solarium calls this mastery. Raptoraem calls it dependency.

Since the Siege, Proctor Aurea Pallas has quietly opened negotiations with Erik Mordiger. Through the proposed Pallas Endowment, Solarium offers recognition, reconstruction funding, lifted sanctions, and preferential trade in exchange for a consistent, high-purity supply of Shadowglass—and exclusive claim to that supply.

Pallas says the Heliometer will “align citizenry to the rhythm of the Sun.”

In the Pit, they say Solarium outlawed their poison, renamed their crystal, and built a clock from both.

And so the cycle continues:

Outlawed in word.

Smuggled in secret.