Korsar & Frostyke
Korsar Korsar
Frostyke Frostyke
Korsar Korsar
Hey, I’ve been mapping out a run to the old synth factory on the outskirts—looks like a perfect playground for a rogue and a sound‑crafter. Word is there's a shattered synth there that still bleeds a raw, ghost‑like tone. Think we can hijack it for a midnight demo?
Frostyke Frostyke
Sounds epic, but remember silence is the fiercest opponent. If that broken synth sings, let it echo through the ruins, but don’t let the ghostly tone drown out your own roar. The night’s ours—if we bring the noise, we’ll own the void.