The temple is quieter than you remember. The grand halls, once alive with chants and clashing steel, now feel hollow, almost mournful. The clerics and paladins gather at a distance, their eyes sharp and wary, betraying a mix of fear, awe, and… disgust. You feel the weight of their judgment in every whispered step and sidelong glance.
The Cardinal approaches, his robes flowing like molten gold in the torchlight. His eyes, normally full of warmth and authority, are now grave, heavy with the burden of what you have become.
“You have walked a path no mortal should tread,” he says, voice steady but somber. “The sacrifice you made… the embrace of darkness, the hunger you now carry—it is necessary. But know this: you are no longer one of us. We cannot follow you into the shadows you have chosen. We can only pray for your success.”
He places a hand over your shoulder, the Dragon Staff vibrating faintly under his touch.
“The fate of the world rests upon you now. Vile waits, stronger than before, a god in bone and shadow. You must return to the shrine. You must face him. And you… alone, shall determine whether light survives or the world is consumed by whispers and ruin.”
The torches flicker, casting the room into wavering patterns of shadow. The weight of destiny presses down on your shoulders. There is no turning back.
[Head back to the shrine to continue…]