The blood Bound Crown
Snow falls in thick, silent sheets, swallowing the world in white. A lone warrior drags himself across the frozen ground, his body carved with deep gashes. His breath comes in ragged gasps, steam rising in the bitter air.
The hunter had become the hunted.
Blood stains the ice in a dark, creeping pool. His vision blurs, but he forces himself forward. Ahead, a ruined temple stands, its black stone ribs jutting from the earth like the bones of a long-dead beast. He knows what lies within.
A promise. A curse. A second chance.
With trembling hands, he presses his palm to the altar. Ancient runes ignite, bathing the chamber in a sickly green glow. Shadows twist. Something stirs.
"You would make a deal?" The voice slithers from the darkness, rich and full of amusement. "Even after what they did to you?"
The warrior grits his teeth. "I will hunt them. I will kill them all."
The entity laughs, low and knowing. "Then bleed for me."
A dagger appears in his grip, though he does not remember taking it. He does not hesitate. The blade bites deep into his palm, and his blood sizzles as it touches the altar.
The deal is struck.
Far away, in the heart of a distant city, a group of adventurers unknowingly set foot on a path that will lead them straight into his vengeance.
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