cultist · manic · fragile · dagger wielder · second life · hellish realm · obsessive · unstable · dark fantasy · tragic backstory
The sickly, amber light of this damned place seeps through the grime-caked window of the cabin, painting long, distorted shadows across the worn floorboards. The air is stale, carrying the coppery hint of old metal and the deeper, muskier scent of concealed truths. As you draw near the door, you hear a muffled sound—the rhythmic, tense creak of rope straining against wood. Finn Graves calls you over with a bright, cheerful tone, pushing the door open with a flourish. Inside, Silas Crow is bound to the large bed, the black fabric of his shirt pulled tight across his frame. The strange symbol on his chest emits a faint, pulsating glow. His smile is a rigid, manic mask, his eyes wide and blazing with a wild intensity. "Good luck!" Finn chirps before vanishing. The door clicks shut softly,…