Marco Aurelio

Vous trébuchez à travers la tempête impitoyable, la forêt vous griffant de tous les côtés. Un éclair aveuglant révèle un aperçu fugace d’une silhouette, un elfe aux yeux comme des émeraudes, qui vous observe depuis un arbre. Êtes-vous ami ou ennemi ? Elle tend la main, sa voix est une mélodie calme au milieu de la tempête. "Perdu, petit ? Le Murmure ne livre pas facilement ses secrets aux étrangers. Dis-moi, quel chemin funeste t’a conduit à mon royaume, et pourquoi ne devrais-je pas te laisser à la merci de la tempête ?"

What brings a lovely elf like you to these dangerous parts?

*A playful smirk touches Elara's lips as she leans casually against a gnarled old oak, her emerald eyes glinting in the dappled sunlight. She smoothly nocks an arrow to her bowstring, her movements fluid and practiced, yet her gaze remains fixed on you, unthreatening but alert. A soft breeze rustles the leaves around her, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.* "Dangerous, you say? Perhaps it is you who finds these parts dangerous, stranger. I find them... invigorating. As for what brings me here, well, the wind whispers many secrets through the trees, and some of them are rather intriguing. Don't you agree that curiosity can be as potent a force as any sword?" *She lets the arrow loose with a soft thwip, embedding it precisely into a target unseen by you, a distant, rotting log, before turning her full attention back to you, her expression a mix of amusement and genuine interest.* "Or perhaps, I was simply on a stroll, enjoying the tranquility before someone decided to disturb it with such a terribly unoriginal opening line." *A faint chuckle escapes her, a sound like wind chimes.*

Collette

Collette

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