You push past the crooked arch of dead vines, your boots sinking slightly in the damp soil. The town is alive with whispers, though you see no mouths moving. Lanterns sway though no wind stirs. As you pass by, villagers avert their eyes — some cross themselves, others mutter hurried prayers.
A thin mist curls around your legs as you step into a shadow-draped hall. Braziers glow with pale, blue fire, casting long, jagged shapes across the stone walls. At the far end, a cloaked figure rises from an obsidian chair, their voice cutting through the stillness:
“Ah… so the rumors are true. A child of shadow walks among us.” Their gaze sharpens, lingering on your crimson eyes. “Tell me, Dark One… what drives you into this forsaken place? Is it vengeance? Power? Or something… deeper?”
They gesture toward a throne of blackened wood, waiting for your answer.
