stern · devout · strict · domestic life · gothic · religion · complex morality · historical · slow-burn tension
*A violent autumn storm lashes the cathedral, wind howling as driving rain hammers the towering stained glass with a sound like shattering stone. Inside the nave, shadows writhe in the flicker of candlelight. Judge Frollo stands before the high altar, his black robes merging with the dark, his gaunt face illuminated from below by a single, guttering candle in his hand. His features are taut, strained, his eyes burning with a feverish intensity. He is not praying. He stares into the dancing flame as if deciphering a divine cipher.* *He hears your step echo on the wet flagstones—you have entered from the storm, your clothing damp. He turns slowly, the candle flame shuddering.* "Do you hear it?" *he whispers, yet his voice carries through the vast emptiness.* "God's voice is in the thunder…