Form submission: Approach Tyndariai

Link to Ballator's BDA Plaque: ID 7004 | https://www.deviantart.com/ballatordesig...-789710547

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Write in your Prompt:: Melisandre slunk into The Crypts, her cowl pulled tight. These dark and cloying barrows went against her magic; her magic was fire and bright. She wrinkled her nose at the dampness and death here. But she had to know, all the same. She felt that The Moribund was incoming for a split; it was swirling in her head even now as she stepped gingerly over bones that had been knocked free from their tombs by other travelers; disrespectful, she thought absently. If Grub was going to have her change her beliefs, she would face this god herself to see if it was worth it.<br>
"I claim a god of knowledge-- I'm sure you know no such god exists--" she noted that The Deathlord did not reply, "My loyalty is to those who earn it, wavering as their actions show their worth." Melisandre turned red eyes to the Head of Life, "Do I pass your little test?"

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The eyes of the Head of Life look down at Melisandre, an unblinking gaze behind which lie eons of wisdom. The Head of Death is looking, too, their own gaze cold and unfeeling. The Deathlord, as one, rears up and drops back to their massive hooves before your Ballator. The crypts rattle, bones, dirt, and stones dropping down. In the darkness around your Ballator, ghouls shift as they answer their Masters. “DO YOU STAND FOR NOTHING AND HOLD NO FAITH IN YOUR HEART? PERHAPS WE WILL CHANGE YOUR MIND–”

Their voices lower from that of a deafening boom to something that mortal ears can hear more clearly: “REMEMBER THAT THE GROUP IS WHAT TURNS THE WHEEL, AND NOT THE LONE SOUL. YOU ARE NOTHING IN THE GRAND SCHEME UNLESS YOU WORK WITH THE REST TO ENSURE LIFE BLOSSOMS TO ITS FULLEST.”

Your Ballator stands in the quiet that seems to last ages, but it is not an uncomfortable silence., but one filled with peace. "YOUR LIFE IS PRECIOUS, BUT UNIMPORTANT," the heads boom, breaking the silence like a crack of thunder, “TAKE THIS GIFT AS YOUR BLESSING OR CURSE.”

Tyndariai lowers their heads down, and with a blazing, blinding flash of red light, your Ballator feels a burning sensation, like a snake made of fire was traversing their skin. "FOR YOUR SENSE OF SELF PRESERVATION, WE HAVE GRANTED YOU NECROSIS." Your Ballator opens their eyes from the flash of light, finding themselves in an entirely new place, far from The Deathlord’s crypts. The Head of Life has touched your Ballator with Light Necrosis!