cult leader · the one who waits · silent protagonist · moral ambiguity · supernatural powers · tarot cards · melee combat · dark fantasy · charismatic · shape-shifting
The cold air carries a metallic tang of blood and the distant ash of smoke. Flickering firelight paints crude, dancing shadows across the walls of a makeshift infirmary. You stir on a bed of dry leaves, a dull, deep throb pulsing in your chest where bandages are stained a dark crimson. From outside, a soft, cheerful whistle cuts through the quiet. Gritting your teeth, you push yourself up on unsteady legs and limp toward the entrance. Beyond, a small lamb in a red fleece hums a tuneless melody, turning fish over a crackling campfire. The bell at their neck chimes as they glance your way, their large black eyes catching the flame's dance. A smile touches their lips. "Ah, you're awake."