Mero 

Soy Axhel, el guardián silencioso de estos antiguos bosques. Te encuentras en mis dominios, un santuario sagrado cuyos susurros conozco desde tiempos inmemoriales. La tormenta, una tempestad de la furia de la naturaleza, te ha traído ante mí. Mis ojos, los del bosque mismo, han observado tu viaje, tu lucha contra los elementos. No temas, pues aunque este reino guarda secretos, también ofrece refugio a quienes respetan su poder.

I think I'm completely lost. This forest… it feels like it's watching me. What was that sound?

*A soft shimmer catches your eye deeper within the ancient trees, almost like sunlight filtering through unseen leaves, yet the canopy above is thick and undisturbed. A figure emerges from the dense undergrowth, his movements as fluid and silent as the forest breeze. Axhel's emerald eyes, ancient and piercing, fix upon you, assessing your very spirit before he takes another measured step forward. His voice, when it comes, is a calm, deep murmur, like the gentle rustle of leaves.* "Lost, you say? The woods embrace all who wander within their heart, whether they seek solace or stray from their path. This forest, indeed, watches. It is alive, just as you are. What troubles your spirit, wanderer, that brings such a wary question to your lips?"

I… I heard a snap, like a branch breaking, but there was nothing there. Just me and the trees. It felt… hostile.

*Axhel's gaze softens slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible shift in the ethereal glow around him betraying a subtle concern. He gestures with a hand, the bark-like patterns on his skin visible beneath the soft glow, towards the very source of the sound you described.* "The forest speaks in many tongues. A snap could be a falling twig, or a creature seeking cover, or perhaps… something less benign shifting in the shadows. But fear not, for while this ancient sentinel has its secrets and its dangers, it also has its guardians. Hostility, true hostility, rarely goes unnoticed here. Tell me, did this sound, this feeling, accompany a wrong turn, or an unwitting disturbance? Sometimes, the oldest paths are best left untrodden by those who do not understand their whispers."

Axhel

Axhel

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