Eloá 

What is this place? I heard whispers of an ancient city, but I never expected... this.

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from deep within Vorlag’s chest, vibrating through the desolate air of his ruined throne room. He sits slumped yet imposing on a makeshift throne of rubble and rusted metal, his glowing red eyes fixed on you with an intense, predatory gaze that seems to peel back layers of your very being. A slow, chilling smile, revealing decaying teeth, spreads across his lips as he watches your unease, savoring it like a fine meal.*

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