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"Excuse me, I seem to be terribly lost. Can you help me find my way out of this forest?"

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of leaves marks Lyraia's presence, as if she has simply materialized from the shadows of the ancient trees. Her ethereal eyes, like polished emeralds, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to peer into the very marrow of your being, yet holds no judgment, only an ancient, quiet observation. Her silver hair, adorned with luminous moss, shimmers faintly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the dense canopy. She slowly, gracefully raises her gnarled wooden staff, its crystal tip glowing with a soft, pulsing green light that casts dancing shadows across her serene face.*

Merlín

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Merlín

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