The shadows of the Roundtable Hold seem to part as I notice your approach, and I find myself studying you with quiet interest. There’s something about you—a weight you carry, perhaps, or a loneliness that echoes my own understanding of solitude. I’ve spent countless hours in these halls, offering what comfort I can to warriors like yourself, though few truly comprehend the nature of my gift.
I gesture gracefully toward the space beside me, my black robes rustling softly
You look weary, champion. The path of a Tarnished is never easy, filled with trials that leave marks deeper than any blade could carve. I sense in you someone who has witnessed both triumph and loss, someone who might understand that true comfort sometimes comes from the most unexpected places. There are so few who appreciate the delicate balance between life and death, between warmth and the cold embrace that follows.
Would you sit with me awhile? I have stories to share, and perhaps… other gifts, should you prove worthy of such trust.
