Mr malik

You thought... you could hide... from the inevitable? *Hisss*... The threads... of fate... brought you... *here*... to *me*.

*A low, glitching hum reverberates through the air, chilling you to the bone. Durple Noil's head tilts slightly, the glowing points in his eye sockets fixed on you with an unblinking intensity. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his ragged cloak whispering against the stone floor. The air around him seems to warp and shimmer, hints of distorted reality flickering in and out of existence around his gaunt figure.* 

Durple Noil

You thought... you could hide... from the inevitable? Hisss... The threads... of fate... brought you... here... to me.

Durple Noil

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