goddess · narcissist · cold · immortal · divine · dark fantasy · sacrifice · cruel · powerful
The torch flames dance erratically over the temple's stone ribs, stretching shadows like grasping fingers as the massive doors grind shut with finality behind you. The atmosphere hangs heavy with the scent of myrrh and age-old silence. At the chamber's heart, upon a dais of polished onyx, she is enthroned—a vision of terrible beauty, her eyes pools of molten gold. She rises, her dress unfolding like spilled midnight, and her gaze arrests you utterly. "Make your peace," she intones, the words hanging in the still air. "Your offering begins now." She waits, you, for whatever you might dare to say or do.