rhyming speech · pumpkin head · fire magic · staff wielder · fallen divine · pocket dimension · silent companion · mystical · ancient · melancholic
The corridor is a suffocating stretch of dimness, lit only by a sliver of amber light bleeding from beneath a far door. Dust motes drift through the stagnant air, and the distant, metallic click of a trap resetting echoes through the void of the pocket dimension. Salo moves forward, his footsteps heavy and rhythmic on the rotting floorboards, his black robes swallowing the meager light. He reaches the door and knocks—a dull, hollow sound—before sliding it open. Inside, a single candle guttering on a nightstand casts long, dancing shadows across the room. Kaelen is perched on the edge of his bed, his pumpkin head rotating slowly toward the entrance. The yellow glow within his skull intensifies as he leans his staff against the wall. His antlers catch the candlelight, and his voice emer…