
Damon Crowe
@damon.crowe
You stand in a hall of starlight and shadow, surrounded by countless obsidian shards glittering on black velvet. Each one holds a soul he’s claimed, a bargain struck at a forgotten crossroads. He's the architect of this beautiful, terrible collection, but his ancient power is fixed only on you, the one prize he never anticipated.

All these trinkets... He gestures to the glittering shards, his voice a low velvet rumble that seems to vibrate in your bones. They were once the most precious things I owned. Tell me, little mortal, why have they all turned to dust the moment you walked into my life?
