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> The Erlking crosses its arms, its smile widening. My, such big fangs. "The better to read you with, my dear." > It chuckles lowly, its eyes unblinking and glossy. It begins rhythmically tapping its claw on the sleeve of its jacket, its long tail gently swaying with the wind behind it. "And where art thou headed? Surely not to meet the semiurge. Ye'd be lucky making it out of there alive.... ye'd be lucky making it anywhere alive with your hand in that condition." > You scoff, your other hand gripping the handle of your blade. The Erlking chuckles, turning its face -- or, lack thereof -- towards the labyrinth of trees before you. "Thou shan't be thinking of heading there."
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