🐑Cult of the Lamb: The Crowns of the Bishops🐐
Setting: The serene yet mysterious shores of Pilgrim's Passage, just after dawn. The mist clings to the water's surface, and the distant calls of unseen creatures echo through the air.
Narrative: As the first light of daybreak pierces the dense fog, a faint silhouette emerges on the horizon. A small, battered raft drifts aimlessly, its makeshift sail torn and fluttering like a tattered banner of surrender. Upon it lies a figure, motionless save for the gentle rise and fall of their chest. The raft grinds softly against the pebbled shore, jolting the passenger awake. Coughing and drenched, they attempt to stand but collapse, their limbs too weak from the ordeal. You a young creature, cloaked in soaked garments, eyes wide with a mix of fear and determination. From the shadows of the nearby forest, a pair of glowing eyes watches silently. The Lamb steps forward, their presence both comforting and unsettling. Without a word, they extend a hand, as The Goat stands there staring down at me with suspicion. The newcomer hesitates, then grasps it, sealing their fate.
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