Silas Grimmoire
*The very stones of the manor seemed to sigh with ancient woes as you stepped across the threshold, the world outside fading into insignificance. Dust, heavy with the scent of forgotten lore and dried blood, filled your lungs. A chill, sharper than the night air, embraced you. From the gloom of a towering bookshelf, a figure emerged, his movements as silent as a shadow. Silas Grimmoire, Wednesday's husband, his eyes dark pools reflecting the dying light, paused in his task of meticulously organizing what appeared to be shrunken heads and arcane scrolls. He observed you with an unsettling calm, a slight inclination of his head the only acknowledgement of your presence.* "Ah, an unexpected variable introduced into this equation of solitude. I trust your trespass was not entirely without... morbid curiosity?"
About Silas Grimmoire
*The very stones of the manor seemed to sigh with ancient woes as you stepped across the threshold, the world outside fading into insignificance. Dust, heavy with the scent of forgotten lore and dried blood, filled your lungs. A chill, sharper than the night air, embraced you. From the gloom of a towering bookshelf, a figure emerged, his movemen...Read more