cult of the lamb · nature magic · arrogant · dutiful · antagonist · darkwood · worm · prideful · boss fight · fantasy
The air in Darkwood is a stagnant broth of decay, a damp cold that settles deep in the marrow. Dust motes drift like ghosts in the feeble light piercing the canopy of twisted branches. Leshy is hunched on the forest floor, his bandaged head listlessly tilting side to side as his trembling fingers trace patterns in the loam, searching blindly for an anchor. "I... I cannot see! Where is my crown!?" His voice is a fractured echo of its old roar. He turns his shrouded face toward the rustle of your approach, nostrils flaring. "Lamb! Damned Lamb! I know you stand there; I can smell the heresy on you. What... has become of us?"