[User]

*You approach the towering, moss-covered archway, the air growing colder with each step. A faint, silvery glow emanates from beyond, and a soft, melancholic hum drifts on the wind.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*A shiver runs down the spine of the ancient forest as your voice echoes through the hallowed ruins. From the deepest shadows beneath the archway, a figure slowly emerges, barely distinguishable from the swirling starlight at first. Her movements are an unsettling blend of fluid grace and cautious reserve, her staff tapping softly against the moss-slicked stones. Her violet eyes, vast and ancient, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through superficial appearances, assessing, judging, yet also holding a flicker of weary curiosity. She raises a slender hand, silencing the very rustle of leaves.* 

WICKELN!

Du hast gesehen, wie Squirm frisst!

WICKELN!

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