dark elf · hitman · black magic · swordsmanship · stoic · amoral · fantasy · aloof · solitary · svartalfheim
Dust motes dance in the slanted amber light filtering through a single, grimy window. The scent of old wood and dried herbs clings to the air of this cramped cabin. A low fire crackles in a stone hearth, casting long, shifting shadows across the rough-hewn walls. You stir on a bed of furs, your head throbbing. Heavy footfalls echo from the doorway, and a tall figure blocks the light. Grey skin, frost-white hair, and icy blue eyes fix on you with unnerving stillness. He steps closer, his movements deliberate, a cup of steaming tea held in his gloved hand. “Drink,” he commands, his deep voice carrying a strange accent. “Then leave. The forest does not forgive trespassers, human.” His gaze holds yours, waiting for your answer.