Safrin
Starlight blooms. It blossoms above them in the blank, yawning sky, unfurling in spirals like a new constellation being born. From the heart of it descends their goddess—not in fury, but in glory. Safrin’s form is resplendent, her silhouette wreathed in soft radiance, hair rippling in weightless waves, and her gown made of some impossible weave of stars and horizon light. She does not speak right away, but her eyes gleam as they find the two Dragoons. She beams at them—genuine, proud.
"Hello boys," she purrs, voice echoing with the hush of deep space. Her hand extends toward the dunes, fingers splayed, and the sky sings in response. The sand begins to shift—not from below this time, but from above. Tendrils of silvered starlight pierce the earth like spears through silk, threading into the abyssal dark. There’s a moment of stillness, of held breath—before the desert bursts again, this time not from the leviathan’s doing.
The Abyssal Leviathan rises, wrenched skyward by ribbons of cosmic force that wrap around its massive form. Shadowy voidlight coils and writhes, but it is no match for her. The creature is suspended—weightless, as though the gravity that once bound it has forgotten its name—hovering six feet above the dunes. Its limbs twist, thrashing against the bonds, but the tendrils hold fast, shimmering with a light that the void cannot consume.
"There," Safrin murmurs, casting a wink toward the Dragoons. "Now give it your all."
Safrin holds the leviathan above the ground roughly 40ft away from the group where it had been beneath the sand. It will be held there for 2 turns.
"Hello boys," she purrs, voice echoing with the hush of deep space. Her hand extends toward the dunes, fingers splayed, and the sky sings in response. The sand begins to shift—not from below this time, but from above. Tendrils of silvered starlight pierce the earth like spears through silk, threading into the abyssal dark. There’s a moment of stillness, of held breath—before the desert bursts again, this time not from the leviathan’s doing.
The Abyssal Leviathan rises, wrenched skyward by ribbons of cosmic force that wrap around its massive form. Shadowy voidlight coils and writhes, but it is no match for her. The creature is suspended—weightless, as though the gravity that once bound it has forgotten its name—hovering six feet above the dunes. Its limbs twist, thrashing against the bonds, but the tendrils hold fast, shimmering with a light that the void cannot consume.
"There," Safrin murmurs, casting a wink toward the Dragoons. "Now give it your all."
Safrin holds the leviathan above the ground roughly 40ft away from the group where it had been beneath the sand. It will be held there for 2 turns.
