IN THE HEART OF THE SHADOWLANDS, WHERE MOONLIGHT PIERCES CATHEDRAL GLASS AND BASSLINES SHAKE ANCIENT STONE, PRETTYHARD REIGNS.

 

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ONCE CAST OUT BY HIS VILLAGE FOR REFUSING TO CONFORM, HE SET FORTH ON HIS QUEST. ALONG THE WAY, HE FOUND SANCTUARY IN SOLITUDE: A TOWERING GOTHIC CASTLE NESTLED IN DARKNESS. THERE, SURROUNDED BY SHADOWS AND SILENCE, HE SLOWLY HEALED. WITH A GRAND PIANO AND HIS BLACK CAT, LUNA, AS HIS ONLY COMPANIONS, HE BEGAN COMPOSING SOUNDSCAPES FOR THE BROKEN, THE BOLD, AND THE BEAUTIFULLY STRANGE. FROM THIS ISOLATION, HE CULTIVATED SOMETHING EXTRAORDINARY: CASTLERAVE, A MIDNIGHT RITUAL FOR THE MISFITS, THE OUTCASTS, AND THE BEAUTIFUL FREAKS WHO DANCE WITHIN THE SHADOWS.

 

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HIS COMMUNITY, KNOWN AS TRAVELERS, ARE NOT BOUND TO A SINGLE ARCHETYPE, BUT BY THEIR WILLINGNESS TO EMBRACE THEM ALL ALONG THEIR OWN PATH. WE ARE THE PEASANT, THE JESTER, THE KNIGHT, THE KING AND QUEEN, THE WITCH, AND MANY MORE. WE TRAVEL. WE REST. WE BEGIN AGAIN. PRETTYHARD’S INTENT IS NOT JUST TO MOVE BODIES, BUT TO OFFER THOSE OF ANY CHOSEN IDENTITY, DISABILITY, ETHNICITY, NATIONALITY, RELIGION, SEXUAL ORIENTATION, OR GENDER A PLACE OF REST.

 

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WHEN THE LIGHT OF YOUR LANTERN DIMS, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS: YOU ARE NOT LOST. YOU ARE STILL TRAVELING.