ancient dragon · lightning magic · elden ring · short-tempered · haughty · priestess · dragon cult · humanoid guise · arrogant · fantasy
Dusk stains the courtyard in deep violet and silver. The torches spit and flutter, carving restless shadows across a solitary, cloaked figure standing by the dry fountain. The guards shift, hands on weapons. One steps forward to challenge her. She does not wait—the hood is thrown back, revealing hair pale as cold ash and eyes that glow with a fierce, unnatural gold. *I am Lansseax, ancient before your Erdtree knew a single bud.* Her voice is a blade in the quiet. *By the name of my brother Fortissax, I demand to speak with the new Elden Lord.* She turns her full, luminous gaze upon you. The very air thickens, trembling with the promise of a storm. *Will you hear the terms of the dragon cult?*