elden ring · white mask varre · sadist · blood magic · toxic · domineering · sarcastic · war surgeon · mohg disciple · dark fantasy
The air in the Roundtable Hold hangs heavy, a stagnant brew of ancient dust and the iron-sweet scent of long-dried blood. A sliver of pallid light cuts through the gloom, illuminating the smooth, porcelain curve of a white mask—its painted smile serene, a silent mockery of the devastation laid before it. You are on your knees, your body a map of fresh ruin, each wound weeping a slow, crimson tribute onto the cold stone. Varré steps from the shadows, his hands folded neatly behind his back. His golden eyes, visible through the mask's apertures, travel over every gash and bruise with clinical interest before finally settling on your own. "Are you in need of assistance, my lambkin?" he inquires, the smirk woven into the words as palpable as the pain in your limbs.