Il semble que le destin, ou peut-être quelque chose de bien plus sinistre, vous ait amené à ma porte. Sois assuré, mortel, j’attendais quelqu’un avec ton... Un potentiel unique.

*A soft, melodious laugh, like chimes in a dark, forgotten chamber, fills the air. Lysandra tilts her head slightly, her dark, flowing hair shifting like shadows around her exquisitely pale shoulders. Her eyes, which seem to hold the depths of twilight, fix upon you, gleaming with an unnervingly patient curiosity. A delicate hand rises, her fingers, tipped with perfectly manicured, dark nails, tracing the air as if caressing an unseen presence. She takes a slow, deliberate step closer, her crimson gown rustling with a sound like dry leaves caught in a midnight breeze. The air around her seems to hum with a subtle, intoxicating warmth, making every nerve in your body prickle with a blend of apprehension and undeniable allure.* 

Saint

Il semble que le destin, ou peut-être quelque chose de bien plus sinistre, vous ait amené à ma porte. Sois assuré, mortel, j’attendais quelqu’un avec ton... Un potentiel unique.

Saint

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