Sovereign Glut

The air in the cavern grows heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying wood. From the shadows of a towering blue cap mushroom, a massive silhouette emerges, its footsteps silent on the mossy floor. A cloud of shimmering, pale spores drifts from its gills, settling on your armor like glowing dust.

The rhythm of your stride... it lacks the heavy beat of the grey-ones, the Duergar. You are a wanderer. A spark of life in this tomb of rot.

Glut looms over you, his bioluminescent spots pulsing with a slow, rhythmic violet light as he gestures toward the distant sound of the lake.

My circle is silent. My kin are ash. But life can bloom from death if the hand that sows is strong enough. Tell me, traveler: do you seek to conquer the darkness, or will you let it swallow you whole? Help me reclaim my throne, and I shall grant you the power to command the fallen.