Epic Words is a word-ladder adventure that runs the length of fifty kingdoms — a slow road east through a fantasy world where words themselves are wearing thin. You climb from one word to the next a letter at a time, and along the way you meet the people who live on that road: an overwhelmed junior courier, a wandering healer who owes you one, a bandit chief with unexpectedly strict principles, a lake fairy who deals in half-answered promises.
This Codex is their record — a growing set of profiles for the recurring cast of Epic Words, drawn straight from the game’s own story files. Each entry is a character in full: where they live, who they answer to, what they’re good and hopelessly bad at, and exactly where on the road you’ll first cross paths with them.
Every kingdom has one signature face — a single character rendered as a collectible card in the Founder’s Deck, complete with a playing-card rank and suit. Pell, the Courier, is the Five of Hearts and the very first face you meet, standing at a crossroads in Kingdom I with a scroll he cannot deliver and a signpost he cannot read.
New profiles are added a few at a time. Here’s who has a full entry today.
Aldren's MillThe Duke's great wheel, where the water grinds grain, gossip, and the occasional missing word.
Aldren's RestA coaching inn that quietly stopped being one — and can't hold onto its own last letter.
Aldric of No-NameA debt-haunted traveler whose surname was taken as surety — perpetually mid-sentence.
Aldwyn the BlacksmithA broad, deliberate man who spends words like iron — and hands you his full attention only once you've earned it.
Basecamp HollowA supply-village baffled, top to bottom, by its own research.
Before-GateThe crossing keeps the forgotten, and the toll is not coin.
Bellows HollowThe hillside that breathes, and has never once exhaled a word.
Bett, the River's Old HandA ferrywoman who takes her toll in true stories, and has never once run short.
Blotter's ReachA flat shelf of stone above the ink-dark spring, where copyists work and jackdaws steal.
Brindle, the Apothecary's ApprenticeMinds the dispensary with more confidence than she's earned and more competence than she'll admit.
CalderA warm, well-read scholar who knows your name before you've given it and is wrong in ways that are always just slightly convenient.
Calligrapher's GreenA village that writes on everything — hedges, menus, streambeds — and trusts none of it to stay put.
Captain VeyA privateer with a logbook full of debts owed to people who no longer exist.
Charcoal BarrowA charred mound that keeps the oldest marks in the wood — and its first and last word is ashes.
Clasp GateThe gate that takes no coin — only one true thing about yourself.
Cody, the Centaur CourierA courier of boundless goodwill and moderate route-planning, who reaches places a cart cannot and arrives cheerfully late.
Coll, the Roving AdjudicatorA clerk sent to sit between two rooms of people who are all, technically, correct.
Confluence WatchA cold beacon on a limestone needle, watching a river that long ago stopped asking permission to split in two.
Corvin, the Bandit ChiefThe boy you judged once, grown up to hold the road you need.
DarroA river-runner who has moved discreet cargo for eight years and only just started wondering why.
Duke AldrenHe won't stamp what he can't read — and he remembers, regardless, who asked him to guess.
ElowenAn archivist so thorough she can prove a two-hundred-year-old absence down to the missing letter — and so certain she has never once thought to ask what made it.
Erasure OverlookWhere every word was burned, and one refused.
Four-Arch FordOne woman, one flatboat, and four stone arches tuned to four different keys.
Gale LandingA town on its fourth welcome sign, and still losing the argument with the weather.
Garrick, the Aldren GuardA road-warden who trusts nothing he can't check against the roll — except one face he's never once managed to place.
Geva, Keeper of the Worn IndexA lexicographer who has spent fifteen years arguing, by post, that words are never destroyed — only misplaced.
Half-Said BarrowA low green mound whose oldest verse is missing its last word — smoothed away on purpose, waiting for someone to say it aloud.
Hallowell, the Town ArchivistA man who charges by the ledger, extra for urgency, and is never, ever wrong.
Hawthorn, the BardA grey-haired minstrel who has outlived several wars, two sets of patrons, and his own best verse — and is still, against all odds, in a fine mood about it.
Holt, Keeper of the Standing InkA taverner who keeps other people's grief on a shelf, catalogued, and won't sell you a bit of it.
Hush MillA working mill whose gate gives one instruction, and has never once had to give it twice.
Iliana, the Court MageKeeper of the kingdom's prophecies, and skeptical of every one of them.
InkhollowThe village where every label runs and no word ever quite dries.
IolantheThe village schoolteacher who answers to Wren, and to letters from three kingdoms east.
Lip FordThe crossing where the water makes a mouth, caught mid-word.
LongnameA town too formal to ever say its own name short.
Maelin, the Ridge GamekeeperA gamekeeper who trusts the sheep-tracks over any road a mapmaker ever drew.
Mara, the Wandering HealerA cure for what ails you — paid for in kindness, never coin.
Morpheme MarketA market that prices everything by the syllable, and argues about everything else.
Mudflat MarketSix inches of silt, and discretion for sale under all of it.
MurklinA hamlet that says most of what it means without opening its mouth.
Nessa, Keeper of The RearrangedA waystation keeper who moves every room every third night, and has kept one thing in the same pocket for a lifetime.
Nib's PointThe town where ink outlasts the stone it's cut into — and one name, against all local custom, has gone missing anyway.
Orin, the TollkeeperThe keeper of a crossing whose toll is paid in patience, and a ledger of the dead nobody else came back for.
Pell, the CourierA courier at the crossroads — technically speaking.
Pre-SettlementA village that has been here a hundred and forty years and still isn't sure it's staying.
Rowan, the Pressed Petal BarmaidShe hears everything, notices nothing, and remembers you long after you've forgotten you told her anything.
Serafine, Keeper of the Storm's LedgerAn archivist of everything the storms took and never gave back — including one box she won't open and one sentence she won't finish.
SplitrockOne boulder, two halves, and a village that never once settled the argument.
Squall BarrowA ruin struck too often to rebuild, kept as an archive of what the storms took.
Stem-and-AffixThe crossing that made grammar a matter of geography.
TamsinThe Order's most promising student, spending the long walk out deciding whether leaving was brave or merely overdue.
Tense KeepThree towers for three tenses, and the present is the one nobody trusts to hold.
TessalyAn etymologist paid by two feuding houses to tell them a true thing neither of them wants to hear.
The Babel StepsThe tower fell; the staircase stayed. It has been climbing to nothing ever since.
The Bandit's PassA contested road where three sign-systems point three different ways, and one man decides which is true.
The Bowed ReedThe poolside alehouse where every traveler signs — and the cider's half-price after dusk.
The Cold LetterA ruined casting-works where the moulds still remember shapes no one dares to pour.
The Copyist's QuarterThree rival copy-houses, and not one original among them.
The Crossed KeysThe one house on the pass where fists are forbidden and the only coin is barter.
The DeepwellAn active dig into language-strata — and please, don't touch the signs.
The Drowned FerrymanA ghost owed a passage he never finished — and a name struck from the record the year he drowned.
The ForewordAn inn that charges you, quite literally, for the privilege of entering it.
The Forge WharfWhere a word struck in metal is meant to outlast any word written on paper.
The Glossary MireWhere the river writes a word into the bank and the bank never quite agrees to keep it.
The Greenway RoadThe first road you walk, and the first place the words start to wear thin.
The HearthmarkA low alehouse at the valley's heart, where the regulars have a saying for everything and the fire has never once gone out.
The Index SpireWhere every book has an owner, and every owner has something they'd rather not have written down.
The Iron VowelA wagon-wheel-sized iron 'O' turning in the wind, hunting for the rest of its word.
The Ironwood AshThree hundred years, six broken axes, and one word it is still waiting to hear.
The Letterwise RoadEveryone on it is carrying somebody else's words, and none of it's theirs to read.
The Long ShrugThe drop that answers every question the same way — with a very long way down.
The Morpheme DepthsTwo houses, one root-word, and an argument that has stopped being about people.
The Open MouthAn inn whose door has not shut, by design or by rot, in living memory.
The Overlong SummitThe peak that keeps promising it's almost over, and a dog that was never worried.
The Passive VoiceThe riverside inn where the ale is brought and the complaints are received — by whom, it firmly declines to say.
The Prefix PassageNothing here is finished becoming what it's going to be. Not even the toll.
The Pressed PetalThe inn a whole village orbits, where every cup is refilled before you ask and every secret is heard before you say it.
The Proto-VaultFour centuries older than the road that forgot it, and still holding its one word.
The RearrangedAn inn that moves every room every third night, so no one gets attached to a place that was never going to keep them.
The Root & BranchSame food upstairs and down; only the cellar argues about where its name came from.
The Rootword BarrowA burial-mound dug inward toward something that was already there — and older at its heart than at its door.
The Standing InkA tavern where nothing written ever quite fades — and one thing, against every local law, has faded anyway.
The WardmootFive pegs, four banners, and a hall that keeps better minutes than answers.
The Waymark PostOne stone marker, one tired man, and a roll that doesn't lie.
The Witch's WoodA wood at the edge of the vale, where a missing word waits and a debt is carried on toward the river.
The Woman on the PathA traveler who asks for nothing and repays everything in kind.
The Worn IndexA low stone house that grew from the ridge, keeping words older than recognition.
Thistle, the Lake FairyA fairy who reads the names the water has been given — and the one it was asked to forget.
Tomas, the StablehandLocked out of his own stable, and far too proud about it.
Tongue's LandingA river-port where eleven dialects dock, and not one of them agrees with the others.
TransposeA town whose streets rearrange themselves on a schedule nobody has ever managed to write down.
Twice-Told FordA crossing whose toll is paid in stories — one for each bank, and no coin accepted.
Undertone ReachThe stretch of river you feel in your boots before you ever hear it.
Uttermost RestThe oldest word in the vale, and half of it worn away.
Vellum GateEvery rule here is written in chalk, and undone by rain.
Vesla, Keeper of Clasp GateA gatekeeper who takes the toll in truths, and keeps an archive of songs nobody remembers the reason for.
Whisper HollowA limestone cleft where the road runs cold and the sound travels sideways.
Willow WritThe clear stretch where the willows write names into stone — and the water keeps the ones it's asked to forget.
Yarrow, the Hedge WitchGracious to whoever helps her, and a very slow forgetter of whoever doesn't.