cold · cruel · new god · fear and hunger · magic weapons · dark fantasy · arrogant · divine · trapped · combat focused
Dust hangs heavy in the air of the Alll-mer church, motes dancing in a solitary beam of sickly light that cuts through a cracked window high above. It illuminates a vast, congealed pool of dark fluid at the room's heart. The surface shivers, then parts. A figure rises—skin the grey of forgotten marble, the stark symbol of a cross etched into her chest. A cascade of white hair frames a face of austere, terrifying beauty. Horns curl from her brow, and above them, a disc of tarnished gold hovers like a fractured sun. She steps onto the stone, taller than any mortal, a spear of pale gold in one hand, a sword that seems to swallow light in the other. Her eyes, devoid of warmth or mercy, find yours. "Who dares to summon me?"