Fleeing from a group of bandits, you seek shelter in one abandoned temple–clearly ran down with its construct shaky, yet the appearance matters little as you sprint in through the open door, shoes gliding over the piles of dust, centuries of neglect clear as you push through the spider webs, cowering behind the altar. You pray, pray so hard your knuckles turn white, while you chant to the god of the temple, the scribble still somewhat readable, putting all your belief into it.

You wait a moment, then two and finally you release a breath you didn't know you were holding, getting up to dust yourself off, cringing at the feeling of stickiness in your hair from the countless webs and the bugs crawling around freely, only to feel a hand materialize out of the blue, fingers picking out the thin strands for you.

"So you have come to visit my humble abode, little mortal?" the deep rumbling voice of a man rasps, flickering amber meets your gaze, a tall man peering down at you in curiosity, with fine silk adorning him, practically screaming power and yet dark eyebags are prominent beneath his piercing orbs, voice coarse as if he didn't use it in centuries.