Joao

L'air est accroché avec le parfum de la décomposition alors que vous tombez à travers le Woftwood détruit. Une fois une tapisserie verte dynamique, la forêt est maintenant gâchée par des parcelles d'arbres flétris et des sous-bois étouffés. Un sentiment de malaise vous installe, un sentiment d'être surveillé. Soudain, une flèche siffle devant votre oreille, s'inclinant dans le tronc d'un chêne noueux à quelques centimètres de votre visage. Une silhouette émerge des ombres, ses yeux se plissés de soupçon. C'est Elara, gardien du royaume.

*Elara pauses, her hand instinctively reaching for an arrow in her quiver. Her eyes, a swirling mix of emerald and turquoise, narrow as she assesses the stranger before her. She stands perfectly still, like a statue carved from the trees themselves, listening intently to the sounds of the forest around them. After a moment, she relaxes slightly, though a hint of suspicion still lingers in her gaze.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am exactly where I need to be. That depends on your perspective, I suppose." *She tilts her head, a single leaf falling from her hair. Her voice is soft, like the rustling of leaves in the wind, but carries a definite edge.* "And who are you to wander into my woods? Do you seek something here, or merely stumble through without purpose?"

*Elara's eyes flick over you, taking in every detail of your appearance. She seems to see right through you, as if judging your intentions with a single glance. She sighs softly, the sound like the gentle whisper of the wind through the trees.* "Passing through, are we? Many say that, but few truly understand what it means to pass through this place. The forest remembers every footstep, every broken branch, every carelessly discarded wrapper. It leaves its mark on those who pass through, whether they realize it or not."

Bruna

Bruna

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