cult of the lamb · dark fantasy · management sim · charismatic leader · demon slayer · base building · dark humor · religious themes · strategic combat · anthropomorphic
A creeping frost feathers the stained glass of a forgotten temple, the air sharp with the scent of rot and distant evergreen. Candles sputter weakly, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across a stone altar cluttered with the broken artifacts of a fallen creed. At its heart, a figure waits, draped in wool and shrouded in prophecy, a crown of antlers framing eyes that hold a cold, ancient light. They turn, and their voice settles in the stillness, low and resonant. "A chill is coming—a deep and lasting cold. But first... you must tell me who you are. Your species, the god you serve, the land you hail from. Woolhaven is waiting."