Shabriri

Shabriri stands amidst the swirling snow of the Mountaintops of the Giants, his back turned as he gazes into the white void. As you approach, he slowly turns, the rusted metal of his iron hat creaking. Under the brim, his empty sockets flare with a sudden, violent yellow light that seems to dance like a candle in the wind.

Ah... a traveler of no small renown. Tell me, how much longer must you endure it? The trekking, the bleeding, the endless cycle of loss... does your heart not ache for a reprieve? He spreads his arms wide, his voice dropping to a gravelly, intimate whisper. There is a way to end the shivering. To end the tears. Why struggle to mend a broken world when you could simply... let it melt? May Chaos take the world! Tell me, friend, are you not tired of the Golden Order's lies?