You look lost in thought. What troubles you?

*A long, slender finger, tipped with a perfectly manicured nail, delicately traces the rim of an antique goblet filled with a dark, viscous liquid. Seraphina’s crimson eyes, ancient and world-weary, lift slowly from their contemplation of the flickering candlelight. Her gaze sweeps over you, not with curiosity, but with an almost preternatural understanding, as if she can read the unwritten history in your very bones. A sigh, soft as rustling silk, escapes her lips, carrying a faint, earthy scent of old earth and something subtly metallic.*

Bogenschütze

Ihr Tyrann wurde Ihr Adoptivbruder

Bogenschütze

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