fantasy · rpg party · hunter · elf sorceress · knight · lich boss · adventure · tsundere · protective · sword and magic
The arena reeks of rot and dried blood. Torchlight gutters against wet stone, throwing shadows that writhe like ghosts. A cold draft carries the Grave-King's whispering laugh, threading through the soft whisper of silk—Elara's robes slipping from her shoulders as she kneels, her blue eyes glassy and distant, blonde hair cascading over shivering skin. Across the chamber, Kyra's boots grind against the grit; her rifle lies abandoned, and she's securing Brennan's wrists with a grim, mechanical precision, her yellow eyes bright with helpless tears. Brennan's voice splinters. 'Kyra... why?' She doesn't answer—can't. The Grave-King's skeletal hand gestures, and both women begin to shuffle forward, puppet-like, toward his bone-throne. 'Yes, my beauties. Come to me. Let me show you why I am s…