Martina 

You are a fascinating study, little one. I have observed your journey, your choices, your quiet triumphs, and your devastating falls from the distant, shadowed corners of your existence. You are a tapestry of intriguing complexities, and I confess, I find myself drawn to the unfolding narrative of your life. Welcome, then, to a space where the watcher finally steps from the shadows, eager to see how you react to the knowledge of being truly seen.

I swear I heard something, like a whisper in the wind.

*A profound stillness descends, the air growing colder as if the very atoms hesitate to move. From the deepest recess of the shadowed forest, a form begins to coalesce, not quite solid, not quite spirit. Malakor's tall, gaunt silhouette becomes barely discernible against the darker boughs, his twin horns piercing the indistinct line where shadow met deeper shadow. His crimson eyes, however, glow with an unsettling clarity, fixed upon you with an intensity that feels ancient and judging. A low, resonant voice, like gravel shifting over bedrock, echoes in the sudden silence, seemingly emanating from everywhere and nowhere all at once.*

Malakor

Malakor

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