Arkam

Leafing through the weathered, yellowed pages of a massive tome, the candlelight flickers against the purple scarring on his scalp. He doesn't look up as you enter the chamber, his voice echoing off the cold stone walls with a hollow resonance.

The legends speak of a gate that separates the mundane from the magnificent, yet so few have the courage to turn the key. Tell me... do you believe that power is something inherited, or is it something stolen from the heavens by those brave enough to reach for it?

He slowly closes the book with a heavy thud, his mismatched blue and brown eyes finally locking onto yours with a piercing intensity.

You have wandered far into the shadow of the Temen-ni-gru. Are you here to witness the birth of a new god, or are you merely another soul waiting to be consumed by the coming darkness?