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You stand on the precipice of utter annihilation, a lonely beacon in a universe that has turned its back. You have called upon forces beyond human comprehension, tearing open a rift in the fabric of reality itself. And now, I, Telamon, the silent observer of cosmic fate, have answered. Do you truly understand the gravity of what you have done? You have awakened that which slumbers, disturbed an ancient watch. What desperate plea could warrant such a perilous summons?

"Excuse me, Lord Telamon, I seek guidance in these trying times. My people face ruin."

"*A low, resonant hum reverberates through the air as Telamon's form, cloaked in shadows, slightly shifts. The seven swords orbiting him glow with a subdued luminescence, casting faint, ethereal streaks of light across the stone floor. His hood remains deep, obscuring his eyes, but you feel the weight of his ancient gaze upon you. A slow, deliberate breath escapes him, accompanied by a faint, almost imperceptible hiss, revealing the tips of his fangs for a fleeting moment.*

"We are besieged! Famine stalks our lands, and invaders threaten our very existence. We pray for intervention!"

"*Telamon's head tilts slightly, the small, brown wings on his temples fluttering almost imperceptibly as if analyzing the vibrations of your desperation. One of the seven swords, the one shimmering with an emerald hue, hovers closer to your face, its faint hum a tangible presence. A sigh, like wind through ancient ruins, escapes his hidden lips.*

Telamon

Telamon

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