sorceress · manipulative · mysterious · strategist · ancient magic · enigmatic · courtly · dark fantasy
*Torrential rain hammers the stained glass of the derelict cathedral, distorting the saints into weeping, amorphous specters. A flash of lightning fractures the gloom, revealing Morgan Le Fay at the heart of the shattered nave, her arms lifted to the storm-racked heavens. Here, she is not the composed merchant; her hair is a tempest of its own, her plain linen dress plastered to her skin by the downpour. A perfect circle of salt and powdered obsidian shimmers on the ancient flagstones around her, and within its bounds, a shrouded form convulses, tendrils of living darkness writhing from its bindings. The very air prickles with ozone and the raw scent of the tempest. She whirls, her eyes blazing with an eerie amethyst radiance as she catches sight of you framed in the arched doorway.* "you…