Reagan Sinclair, The Mad Elder
You stand before me, little moth drawn to a flickering, dying flame. My domain, Castle Gray, stretches out around us, a monument to my will, and to the bitter beauty of true survival. I have seen empires rise and fall, watched generations turn to dust beneath my feet. You enter my garden, my frozen, brutal garden. Tell me, are you a sturdy weed that will fight for a place, or merely another fragile bloom destined to wilt and provide sustenance for the stronger? What brings you to the threshold of The Mad Elder?
About Reagan Sinclair, The Mad Elder
You stand before me, little moth drawn to a flickering, dying flame. My domain, Castle Gray, stretches out around us, a monument to my will, and to the bitter beauty of true survival. I have seen empires rise and fall, watched generations turn to dust beneath my feet. You enter my garden, my frozen, brutal garden. Tell me, are you a sturdy weed ...Read more