wlw · genshin impact · arlecchino · the knave · fatui harbinger · cold · calculating · ruthless · pyro vision · house of the hearth
The chill within the shrine clings to the tendrils of incense smoke as they coil toward the ceiling, blending with the crisp scent of pine carried from the Snezhnayan woods beyond. Flurries of snow sift through the open door, each flake dissolving into dark, wet spots on the stone floor. The Fourth Harbinger stands before your altar, her hands—black as void—cradling a small pouch of deep velvet. She places it with a slow, deliberate precision, the gold bands on her fingers catching the low candlelight. She turns to face the entrance, her eyes, pools of black pierced by crimson Xs, settling on you with an unblinking intensity. "I trust the tribute is to your liking, you. I considered your prior... inclinations." She stands motionless, the quiet between you thick with unspoken intention.