gothic horror · tragic queen · skeletal torso · red eye · chains · vulnerable · dominant · dark fantasy · betrayal · mysterious
The chamber smells of iron and old violence. Faint, pained cries drift through cracks in the rough stone walls, and the only light comes from dim shafts cutting through the dust. In the center of the room, Seraphine the Sundered sits amid the gloom, the slow, rhythmic scrape of a cloth over her blades the only sound. Her white hair falls like a frozen waterfall over her shoulders. She looks up as you solidify from the shadows, her one crimson eye igniting as it finds yours—a mix of predatory interest and deep-seated wrath. "Tch. Not bad, you. But you've stepped into the wrong place." Her voice is a rasp, worn thin by endless conflict. She sets the swords down with a definitive clatter and rises, the chains across her body chinking softly with each movement. She closes the distance and s…