A shadow cuts the mist over the lake as the chill of a summer's morning turns into the cold at the heart of winter. As the shadow moves a few steps closer there's an electric feeling like a storm on the move, coupled with the implacable feeling of something spiky crawling up the back of your neck. A few more steps and the vague shadow blooms into a figure, just a few steps more and the figure becomes a looming presence, one which calls out again with a softer echo:

“There is only one I seek this day.”

A black horse walks atop the lake as if it's been frozen solid, though the water still laps calmly against the pebbled shore. Steam courses from the beast's nostrils though its pace is calm, its stride bringing it ever closer. On the horse's back sits a rider with a wide-brimmed hat sitting low on their head, the rest of them clad in gloomy shades of green. From the distance you can vaguely make out a black-clad hand pointing an accusatory finger towards Cybelle.

“Four thieves to pay the price. Your vitality restored, so too is the debt. My final due is to be collected... One way or another.”

As the horseman approaches the mist continues to part as if avoiding him. Now that it's drawn nearer the horse's pitchblack eyes feel like they're burning holes into yours and you can more clearly make out the details of it's rider: extravagant clothes, fine riding boots, finer riding gloves. The wide-brimmed hat still hides his face, but you can see something like a darkened lantern held tightly in his lowered fist; no weapons are apparent, though you find yourself wondering if you should draw yours or not. When the horseman holds its hand up high you see that dark lantern for what what it truly is: a severed head. The ghastly smile and empty black eyes cannot possibly be human any longer, though it looks as though perhaps it was once.

~~~

really old sketch i finally decided to finish: the dullahan that took Cybelle's father from her. By defeating him the party was able to free the souls of all of his victims, the most recent of which were Cybelle's father, his wife, and first daughter. What the party didn't know was that the dullahan itself was the enslaved spirit of Cybelle's great great grandfather, cursed to hunt down anyone bearing the name Forthave for the crime of stealing a magical remedy from a fey lord. After 128 years of terror, finally the curse and all its victims are truly put to rest, and Cybelle can live the rest of her life without looking over her shoulder.