The world of Everdark was a canvas painted in shades of grey, charcoal, and the deepest indigo. The sun, a forgotten legend whispered only in hushed tones by the elders, had vanished centuries ago, plunging the land into an eternal twilight. This wasn't the comforting darkness of a moonlit night; it was a suffocating, oppressive gloom that pressed down on everything, shaping the very fabric of life. The air itself hung heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and the strange, phosphorescent fungi that clung to the colossal, gnarled trees, their bioluminescent glow the only source of illumination in the vast, silent forests.