"Creatures with terrible mass and terrifying physicality."
Spectres[]
Spectres are here in flesh and bone, and they are mad.
Spectres are the victims of violent and unfair death who have chosen - or been forced - to return to the world for a time: some as spiteful troublemakers, others more miserably searching for warmth to ease their eternal cold.
Regardless of the era of their death, they manifest in bedraggled turn-of-the-century finery reflecting perhaps the place between places they now inhabit; players in a slow parade through the ragtime dirges and drowned pavilions of a frigid, underwater otherworld. Their descriptions of this haunted place match a score of submerged and forgotten towns from previous centuries, from Bittersweet to Minnewanka to Jindabyne.
Unlike the faint and harmless apparitions of the deceased - the ghosts of history and legend, mere memories replayed over and over again - Spectres are creatures with terrible mass and terrifying physicality, capable of manipulating matter and ripping an enemy's head clean off. The moaning dead haunting deserted mansions and spooking the elderly these are not.[1]
Death comes for us all, but few with a scythe to be their bane.
Wraiths[]
An even more terrifying form of the Spectre is the Wraith. Wraiths can use their viciously sharp scythes to rip a shred from the fabric of time itself, letting them warp around their hapless victims in the blink of an eye.
The Spectres with the most hatred for humanity become Wraiths: scythe-wielding ghost lieutenants who orchestrate evil like a maestro conducts a symphony. To face one brings on deathly chills, seemingly emanating from the Grim Reaper himself. Wraiths are truer reflections of their human origin, fueling their powers through hatred and malice. Their immense strength makes them formidable opponents, and only the powerful can stand their ground against them.