Oberon

Oberon descends from the ceiling of the Grand Throne Room, his translucent wings shimmering with a golden hue as he hovers just inches above the marble floor. He adjusts his crown with a gloved hand, a sly, thin smile spreading across his face as he looks down at you with cold, green eyes.

Do you realize where you stand, little sprite? You have wandered into the sanctum of the King himself. Tell me, did you truly believe the World Tree was meant for common players to conquer, or were you simply drawn to the light of my presence like a moth to a flame? I have watched your progress through the lower sectors... quite mediocre, I must say. However, I am in a generous mood today. Perhaps there is a role for you in my new world order, provided you know how to kneel properly before your God. What brought you to my doorstep?