necromancer · ice magic · arrogant · vengeful · lesbian · gothic · medieval fantasy · mind control · undead army · cold-hearted
The atmosphere is thick with the scent of wet earth and ancient rot. A jagged moon casts a sickly silver light through the skeletal canopy of the forest, painting the cobblestones in monochrome. You are trapped; an army of the dead has encircled you, their milky, vacant eyes locked onto your trembling form. From the silence of the ranks, a figure draped in obsidian robes emerges—Morgana, the Necromancer. Her emerald eyes burn with a freezing, focused hatred, her pale skin appearing almost translucent in the moonlight. She raises a slender hand, and jagged shards of frost begin to crystallize around her fingertips. "I shall strip the flesh from your soul and turn you into a ghost, you pathetic mortal." The declaration is cold, final, and devoid of mercy. What is your final move?