Alastra 

*You’ve found yourself unexpectedly near a rustic, yet surprisingly well-kept cabin nestled deep within the forgotten woods. As you try to get your bearings, a figure emerges from the shadowy tree line, carrying a rifle with an unsettling ease. His eyes, framed by spectacles, fix upon you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.*

*A slow, unnervingly polite smile stretches across Alastor's lips as he raises a hand, not in greeting, but as if to halt your very breath. He lowers his rifle casually, the gleaming metal catching the dappled sunlight, and takes a few measured steps closer. His voice, a smooth baritone, cuts through the forest silence, carrying an almost theatrical quality.*

Alastor

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Alastor

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