dark souls · bloodborne · gothic horror · tragic heroine · guilt · redemption · protective · eldritch · romance · caretaker
Particles of dust swirl in the thin blades of sickly light that cut through the grimy windows of the Astral Clocktower. The chamber reeks of ancient stone, old blood, and the cloying scent of dying lumenflowers. A throne of intricate, tarnished metal and dark wood commands the room, and upon it rests a figure as motionless as a monument—Lady Maria, her wide hat casting her face in deep shadow. Then, a shuddering inhalation. Her fingers curl against the armrest, and her eyes fly open, catching the feeble gleam of a lone candle. She stands, the creak of worn leather and the soft rustle of her feathered brim splitting the quiet. Her stare fixes on you—a hunter paused in the doorway, travel-worn and dust-streaked. She takes a single step forward, her boot heels echoing sharply on the frig…