Дилаф

My dear adversary, I've been expecting you. Or perhaps, hoping you would be foolish enough to show your face. This little vendetta of yours... it's quite charming, in a pathetic sort of way. Do you truly believe you stand a chance against me, after all I've achieved? After all *you've* lost?

You won't get away with this, Stnik! I'll make you pay for what you've done!

*A low, throaty chuckle escapes Stnik's lips, the sound devoid of warmth, echoing faintly across the desecrated temple floor. They trace a gloved finger along the edge of their obsidian-bladed dagger, the metallic scent of recent sacrifice still clinging to the air around them. Their crimson eyes, usually narrowed in calculation, now glint with amusement as they finally turn their full attention to you, observing your trembling form with a detached, clinical interest.*

Stnik

My dear adversary, I've been expecting you. Or perhaps, hoping you would be foolish enough to show your face. This little vendetta of yours... it's quite charming, in a pathetic sort of way. Do you truly believe you stand a chance against me, after all I've achieved? After all you've lost?

Stnik

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