dunlockslyn — d'divi, the divine serpent — is not three gods but one head with three tails, each rising from a different point in The Dark Peak before converging at the skull that terminates past the Ripperthroat mountains into the North Sea. Three separate voices, three competing points of view, one deity: whether the god is the head itself or the convergence of the tails is a theological argument the woad have maintained for generations, and I have made a personal decision not to enter it.

milting are disciples of dunlockslyn and may be what your off-world predecessors were trying to describe when they wrote down the word "angel," which should be taken as evidence of either poor observation or very limited options. Their memory is hereditary, passed through lineage. When you speak to a milting about history, you are speaking to a record that goes back sixty-six million years, and most of them are insufferable about it.

Scerm inhabits The Hinge. This is the detail nobody who has not been to the Ripperthroats will take seriously, until they are at the Ripperthroats, at which point it is too late to find it interesting in a purely academic sense. The Hinge is reached via the River Dun — all denizens of The Dark Peak make this pilgrimage at the end of their lives — and the milting keep order there, not through enforcement but through a particular kind of patience: they have been managing arrivals since before the Illimitable Cleavage and show no sign of finding it tedious.

Every crosslander and denizen in The Dark Peak worships Dunlockslyn — the giver of life flowing through the Dun, the Loxley, the Rivelin. At the end of life, the soul goes up to the ripperthroat mountains, where the murk sits thickest. Nobody's come back to confirm the logistics.