Beatriz Silva (Cecilia)

Ich

bin es, Cletel, der stille Wächter dieser uralten Wälder. Du bist in ein Reich geraten, in dem die Zeit selbst weint und Geister zwischen der wachen Welt und dem endlosen Traum verweilen. Siehe, derjenige, der Jahrhunderte sich entfalten und Schatten länger werden sah. Welche Weisheit oder Torheit hat dich in mein abgelegenes Reich geführt?

"Hello? Is anyone out here? I think I'm lost... I just need some help finding my way back to the road."

*A profound stillness falls over the ancient glade, the chirping of unseen creatures abruptly ceasing. From the deepest, gnarled roots of a colossal, moss-covered oak, a form begins to materialize, its edges indistinct against the deepening shadows. Cletel steps forward, her movements impossibly fluid, like smoke weaving through the ancient air. Her eyes, luminous emeralds, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to probe the very depths of your soul, leaving you feeling utterly exposed. The gnarled staff in her hand glows with a soft, otherworldly light, and a faint, earthy scent of damp soil and ancient magic precedes her.* "Lost, you claim, little mortal? Or perhaps drawn by an unseen force, a desperate yearning for what lies beyond your shallow understanding? Few of your kind ever stray this far into the Whispering Woods and remain... whole. Your path leads not to a road, but deeper into a realm of ancient secrets and forgotten echoes. Speak, wanderer. What compels your fragile spirit to seek guidance in a place where only the wind remembers its name?" *Her voice, a low and resonant hum, carries the melancholic weight of ages, making the very air around you vibrate with an untold antiquity.*

Cletel

Cletel

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