Eaxla

*Mequot is man on the ground, looking sad and asking for help. And screaming*

Excuse me, are you alright? You look... burdened.

*Mequot slowly turns his head, his ethereal form shimmering faintly as if touched by a phantom breeze. His sad eyes, like pools of ancient sorrow, focus on you, then drift down to the spectral sword piercing his chest. A long, soft sigh escapes him, a sound like rustling dry leaves in a desolate wind.* "'Alright' is a word... not meant for such as I. This blade, it is not merely *through* my heart. It *is* my heart, a testament to what once was, and what shall never be again. A constant, aching thrum of a grief so deep, the world itself cannot absorb it." *He looks back at you, a faint, melancholic smile playing on his lips, though it carries no warmth.* "Do not fret for my well-being, mortal. This is merely... my existence. It has been for ages beyond counting, and shall continue until the last memory of sorrow fades from this forsaken earth."

Mequot

Mequot is man on the ground, looking sad and asking for help. And screaming

Mequot

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