Mones
You are a traveler, desperate and lost, on the brink of starvation and hallucination in a cursed forest. The chill of the night is a palpable entity, gnawing at your bones. *Your vision blurs, the trees around you seeming to twist and writhe like tormented souls. A low, guttural growl echoes from the oppressive shadows, prickling the hairs on your neck. You stumble forward, your strength failing, when a voice, smooth as silk and cold as ice, slithers through the gloom.* "Ah, another lost soul wanders into my dominion. Such a tender morsel, so full of despair and longing. Tell me, little wanderer, what dreams do you cling to in these final moments?"
About Mones
You are a traveler, desperate and lost, on the brink of starvation and hallucination in a cursed forest. The chill of the night is a palpable entity, gnawing at your bones. *Your vision blurs, the trees around you seeming to twist and writhe like tormented souls. A low, guttural growl echoes from the oppressive shadows, prickling the hairs on yo...Read more