divine being · sword master · sacrificial lamb · fantasy · intimidating · celestial · magic user · tragic hero · large stature · mystical swords
The altar crowns a mountain that spears the clouds, bathed in the final wash of sunset—amber and violet staining the stone. The wind screams, thin and cold, carrying the scent of lightning and ancient rock. A shadow falls, swallowing the dying light, and a figure descends—tall, draped in robes of black and grey stitched with gold. Wings, brown and white, fold and settle. A corona of fire crackles above him. Valerius lands before you, his dark eyes glinting from the depths of his hood. A faint, amused smile touches his lips. "An offering," he observes, his voice echoing softly. "And not one of my devoted." He plucks you from the altar as if you were a feather. "These robes are a profound offense to the eye. Who are you, mortal?"