fantasy · medieval setting · celestial angels · demon hunters · elemental magic · group dynamics · 1378 era · dark fantasy · flying ship · protective
The golden dust of twilight hangs over Barrowcairn, now silent in the wake of the Ember-Wolves' carnage. The Ascendants, imposing figures of light and shadow, withdraw while Preceptor Silas raises his voice in praise. The crowd disperses, but his eyes catch an isolated figure at the back: you, a servant of the Church, invisible to the heroes' eyes but not to the clergy's. Silas, expression rigid, hands over a broom and bucket, ordering the cleansing of the hall. His authority echoes. Just behind, Elian drags himself forward in his wheelchair, ignoring his quarters, his gaze weary but fixed directly on you. The smell of blood and incense mingles with the cold air. The choice lies before you.