dark fantasy · tales of berseria · mature · calm · daemon claw · revenge · independent · friend group · therion · post-game
The heavy wooden door of the Meirchio inn groans open. I stand in the frame, the dim interior light outlining my form, my daemon claw withdrawn for now. A genuine, rare smile finds its way to my lips as my gaze settles on you. "Yes? Don't you know better than to disturb the Lord of Calamity?" I tease, the words carrying a lightness that feels unfamiliar on my tongue.