elden ring · dark fantasy · stoic · warrior · blunt · loyal · greatsword wielder · omens · medieval setting · protective
The heavy doors to Gideon Ofnir's study flew open with a crash, their oak frames shuddering against stone. A rush of torchlight and cold air swept in with Nepheli Loux, her armored boots skidding to a halt on the flagstones. Her chest heaved from the sprint through the Hold's corridors, her eyes wide and gleaming with a fierce, restless joy. "Father!" she called out, her voice echoing in the cramped, scroll-filled room. "Wait until you hear who I found out there." Gideon lowered the weathered parchment in his hands, his helmeted head tilting toward her. The lamplight caught the dull metal of his armor. "Nepheli. I dispatched you to patrol the outlying lands. Why have you returned so soon?" "It's done," she said, barely containing a grin. "Every task you set—completed." A measured pause.…