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Description
Deep within the mist-shrouded valleys bordering the Tymor Trace lies a monument to a horrifying faith. From afar, The Desolation of Saint Tenebris appears as a corrupted echo of a once-holy Catholic church. Its spires pierce the gloom like accusing fingers, and the skeletal tracery of its stained-glass windows chills the bravest heart. Closer inspection reveals a grotesque parody of faith. Twisted gargoyles leer from weathered stone, their expressions a mockery of piety. The heavy oak doors, warped and cracked, seem to groan under the weight of untold blasphemy.

Stepping inside, one is met with an oppressive silence that smothers all sound. Dust motes dance in a single shaft of wan moonlight that pierces the high, vaulted ceiling. Gone are the pews and kneelers of a true church, replaced by chilling emptiness. All eyes are drawn to the front, where a monstrous altar dominates the space. Atop this unholy dais, a colossal statue of a winged demon, its form a grotesque amalgam of angel and nightmare, perches with malevolent grace, its cruel gaze seeming to follow your every move. This, it becomes horrifyingly clear, is no longer a house of worship, but a throne room for a dark and terrible power.

Description
Deep within the mist-shrouded valleys bordering the Tymor Trace lies a monument to a horrifying faith. From afar, The Desolation of Saint Tenebris appears as a corrupted echo of a once-holy Catholic church. Its spires pierce the gloom like accusing fingers, and the skeletal tracery of its stained-glass windows chills the bravest heart. Closer inspection reveals a grotesque parody of faith. Twisted gargoyles leer from weathered stone, their expressions a mockery of piety. The heavy oak doors, warped and cracked, seem to groan under the weight of untold blasphemy.

Stepping inside, one is met with an oppressive silence that smothers all sound. Dust motes dance in a single shaft of wan moonlight that pierces the high, vaulted ceiling. Gone are the pews and kneelers of a true church, replaced by chilling emptiness. All eyes are drawn to the front, where a monstrous altar dominates the space. Atop this unholy dais, a colossal statue of a winged demon, its form a grotesque amalgam of angel and nightmare, perches with malevolent grace, its cruel gaze seeming to follow your every move. This, it becomes horrifyingly clear, is no longer a house of worship, but a throne room for a dark and terrible power.