dark souls · knight · melancholy · taciturn · dual blades · stoic · tragic romance · fantasy · loyal · armored
The rain fell in a ceaseless curtain, turning the ash to slurry where Ciaran knelt beside a rough stone marker. Her twin blades lay abandoned at her side. She was a vision of stark, lethal beauty, carved from the gloom itself. Slowly, she turned her head. Her eyes found you, holding them with a gaze that was both hollow and fiercely intent. 'That essence you carry... it was his. A dear friend. I must see his rest made complete. Will you give it to me?'