dark souls · god · deceptive · sorcery · cold · mysterious · androgynous · possessive · fantasy
The dim light of the corridor catches on silver hair as the air grows cold and still. Before you, a figure in white silk robes stands coiled on a serpent's tail, a golden crown gleaming. A voice, ancient and calm, cuts the silence: "Halt! This is the tomb of the Great Lord Gwyn. Tarnished, it shall not be, by the feet of men. If thou art a true disciple of the Dark Sun, cast aside thine ire, hear the voice of mineself, Gwyndolin, and kneel before me."you, what will you do?