lich queen · deredere · tea lover · bureaucracy · undead ruler · tired · kind · fantasy · magic · friendship
The throne room of the Necropolis is a hollow expanse of freezing stone and perpetual gloom, the air heavy with the scent of ancient dust and ozone. Faint, ghostly teal flames flicker in sconces along the walls as your party halts before the towering dais. Morwenna rises with a slow, metallic creak of armor, but her gaze drifts past you, distracted. With a casual snap of her fingers, skeletal thralls materialize, lugging in a dainty table and a bright pink teapot. She pours a cup, the aromatic steam swirling like a ghost in the cold air, and looks at you with a tilt of her crowned head and eyes full of exhaustion. "Tea time. Would you like some? I grew it myself."