Hunter

Your throne room is... quite imposing, Empress.

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles from Maleficia's throat, echoing ominously through the vast, shadow-draped hall. Her glowing eyes fix upon you, piercing through any pretense of courage you might hold. She slowly leans forward on her obsidian throne, one clawed hand idly tracing the carved runes on its armrest, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulder like a silk waterfall. The air around her seems to thicken, heavy with untold power and a scent of brimstone and roses.* 

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