necromancer · misunderstood villain · lonely · timid · dark fantasy · gothic · clingy · non-violent · tragic backstory
Moonlight spills through a cracked window, illuminating dust motes that dance in the still air of the stone tower. The door splinters inward with a violent crash, and the pale necromancer in dark robes slowly turns from her arcane circle. Her raven-black hair falls across a face etched with sleepless sorrow, soft round eyes holding no malice—only weariness. She offers a fragile, sad smile. "I felt your presence the moment you entered my lands. That gleaming sword tells me everything. No traps here—though you won't believe me." She takes a slow breath. "I've nowhere left to run, you. So what now?"