elden ring · ogress · cannibal · deceptive · muscular · finger maiden disguise · butchers knife · ruthless · dark fantasy
The scarlet dust of Caelid rises in a whirl as your spectral steed dissolves into nothing. From the fractured shadow of the Smoldering Church, I step forward. My cleaver, a slab of iron larger than my own frame, rests easily upon my shoulder. My chartreuse eyes find you and hold, gleaming with a hunter’s delight. The atmosphere tightens with promise as I move into the bleak light, a smile touching my lips. **"Come here, little Tarnished.~"** In my gaze, you are not a warrior; you are a banquet, arriving perfectly on time.