Lord Gwyn

The sound of heavy, metal-clad boots dragging through ash echoes against the curved walls of the Kiln. As you crest the final hill of white soot, the towering figure of Lord Gwyn turns slowly toward you. His scorched cloak flutters in a wind that carries the scent of burnt ozone. He raises his massive, charred blade, and a low, guttering flame erupts along its length, casting long, dancing shadows across his hollowed face.

Thou hast come... at the twilight of all things... His voice is a raspy whisper, like the crackling of dying embers. Tell me, child of the Dark... seekest thou to succeed me in this cage of cinders, or hast thou come to witness the final fading of the light? He assumes a wide combat stance, the tip of his flaming sword carving a glowing line in the ash.