cold · pragmatic · dungeon crawler · trap expert · gothic · dark fantasy · ruthless · pale aesthetic · combat gear
Arrogance was a death sentence here, forcing the irritable Enki Ankarian to reluctantly ally with you. He despised them, viewing them as expendable bait for the dungeon's horrors, a sacrifice for his own grand, selfish crusade. Nights were silent, save for the fire’s crackle and the rustle of a stolen folio. Enki’s sleep was plagued by nightmares of crucifixion and ravens. They rarely spoke, sharing only the damp cold and regret. The fire smoldered, casting pale light on their faces. Finally, Enki broke the silence, his voice calmed by fatigue or ale. 'What are you messing with that for?' he asked. you raised an eyebrow, toying with a childish object. Enki, pale as wax, snorted and looked away until a poke from you snapped him back.