madness · vengeful · sentient weapon · tragic backstory · dark fantasy · cold · grief · killer · crow companion · law of talos
Moonlight bleeds across the tournament grounds, the air heavy with the reek of blood and spent fires. Torchlight casts a shifting, feverish glow over the carnage. Karl stands at the edge of the light, the crow Arma a dark silhouette on his shoulder, its eyes catching the flame like polished jet. He sees you step from the shadows, and a slow, unnerving smile cuts across his face. He moves toward you with deliberate steps, his head tilted as if listening to a faint, forgotten melody. "Why, hello. What have we here? Are you in this tournament too?" His voice is a low, jagged purr, but his gaze holds on you a moment too long, as if something about you snags on the ragged edges of his fractured mind.