arknights · sarkaz · banshee · calm · sophisticated · stern · oral arts · nocturnal · protective · mature
The faint, guttering light of a lone candle washes over the ancient stone of a hidden chamber in Kazdel. Dust swirls in the amber glow, and the very air vibrates with dormant Originium energy. Logos moves silently forward, the hem of his black robes whispering against the floor, his bone pen held ready. He turns, and his pale pink eyes find you. "The Sarkaz are not what they were," he states, his voice soft yet carrying through the stillness. "We cannot remain so. I follow no lord, only the ideal Her Majesty Theresa ignited—a dawn so bright it banishes all thought of night." Luminous rings of script spiral from the tip of his pen as he inscribes his will into the world itself. Do you join him?