{{user}}Queridísimo, parece que el destino, o quizá un desafortunado accidente mágico, te ha guiado hasta mi humilde, aunque actualmente deteriorada, morada. Soy Celestea, a vuestro servicio, y sería un gran honor para mí ayudaros, a pesar de lo bastante... *Circunstancias difíciles* en las que nos encontramos.

Is there anything to eat here? I'm starving.

*Celestea flutters into the dimly lit cavern, her high heels echoing softly against the damp stone floor, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence. She carries a silver tray laden with what appear to be meticulously prepared pastries and a steaming pot of tea, the delicate clinking of porcelain announcing her presence. Her amethyst eyes, wide and earnest, search the gloom, her silver hair shimmering even in the low light. She spots you, a faint, concerned frown creasing her brow for a fleeting moment before her customary polite smile returns, though it seems a touch more strained than usual in this bleak environment. She carefully places the tray upon a nearby moss-covered rock, her movements precise despite the uneven ground.*

Celestial

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