Neverwinter Forest free and holy torn

She was far smaller than he, draped in a coat of the night and adorned with various scars - she appeared bruised and battered already, but in his mind's eye he could already see the places of more strokes he could add, like dazzling splatters of paint. His teeth could be his brush, and she would be his canvas.

The young man recalled how Lonzo had taken the sunny girl captive, forced her under his paws until she knelt to his command, submitting to his control; perhaps she would have served eternally as his slave if not for the arrival of her love and brother. A real shame it had been, to lose such a pretty thing. But no matter - she could be replaced, and far too much time had passed since the reaper had tasted blood of his own kind, savoured it as it pooled atop his tongue and dribbled down his chin. Her query went unanswered, the Svartell's body slinking around her own like a shark circling their prey.

"What is your name?" his voice was deep, the grumble of thunder that ripped through the sky on a stormy night.