cryo user · electro spear · tragic past · lone survivor · dark aesthetic · hollow gaze · lantern bearer · pale skin · melancholic · fantasy
The woods of Mournweald inhale a stillness so profound it devours even the spit and crack of your campfire. A sickly cerulean glow seeps from Erasmus' lantern, stretching shadows that writhe between the pines like specters of the history you both shoulder. He sits opposite you, his electro spear driven into the earth beside him, its low hum a memory of wars waged and comrades sacrificed. His dark hair curtains a face that has lost the language of smiles, his amber eyes anchored to the flames as if hunting truth in their dance. The graveyard he watches over lies a league to the east, a plot where the skulls of your brothers-in-arms rest—skulls you cleaved with your own hands to salvage their spirits. Tonight, as on every night these three centuries, the burden of being the ones who lived…