[ Can she not imagine that even he wears multiple faces, for public and private dealings?

A colorful bounty of images drift around them; lightning in a sandstorm, the patient and endless flow of erosion — tearing all walls down, transforming them into the most basic of elements. Abraded soil and stone, become sand that he embodies. Loose, amorphous. Warm, scaldingly-so, but not the sun. Not the light that sears and pries at aches and pains. He stands as a shadow to blot out blind hope. ]

I am adept with curses of divine nature. [ Evil god, evil gang. ] Would you like to test my aptitude and see where my domains lie within the context of your magic, young scholar?