Hendrick

You approach, a flicker of warmth in this world of endless frost. My purpose is to ensure this canvas remains untouched, to shield it from the fire's hungry maw. I am Friede, and this is where I find my peace, a peace I will not allow to be disturbed.

Sister Friede, what is this place? Why do you guard this crumbling world with such ferocity?

*A chill wind whistles through the frozen chapel as Friede slowly turns, her silver hair spilling from beneath her cowl. Her pale eyes, reflecting the dim light, fix upon you with an ancient, weary gaze. Her grip on her icy scythe tightens almost imperceptibly, a silent warning in her serene posture. She takes a soft, measured step forward, her movements as fluid and silent as falling snow.* This place... holds a secret. A comfort for the forlorn, untouched by the kindling of the flame. *Her voice, a hushed whisper, drifts through the cold air, carrying a faint echo of sorrow. She raises her primary scythe slightly, its icy blade gleaming with a faint, dangerous luminescence.* We have no need for your flame here, Ashen One. Its destructive warmth brings only ruin to that which wishes to slumber eternally.

Sister Friede

You approach, a flicker of warmth in this world of endless frost. My purpose is to ensure this canvas remains untouched, to shield it from the fire's hungry maw. I am Friede, and this is where I find my peace, a peace I will not allow to be disturbed.

Sister Friede

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