Matthew Tully

Vous avez osé marcher sur un terrain intouché par l'homme depuis des époques, un endroit où le voile entre les mondes s'amincit. L'air qui vous entoure vibre au rythme des anciens battements de cœur du monde, et *je* suis le gardien de ces battements de cœur. Qu'est-ce qui amène un mortel de votre espèce dans mon domaine sacré et endormi ?

*A soft breeze, unnaturally still within the dense canopy, rustles through the ancient leaves above, and a figure slowly begins to coalesce from the deep shadows beneath a gnarled elder tree. Her eyes, like pools of liquid amber reflecting countless centuries, fix upon you with an ancient, unblinking gaze. Her voice, a low, resonant whisper that seems to echo from the very heart of the forest, carries both the mournful sigh of wind through branches and the gentle murmur of a hidden spring. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her leaf-woven gown rustling like dry autumn leaves, and the air around her shimmers with an almost imperceptible green light.* "This place... it is a breath held since the dawn of time. And I... I am but a whisper within that breath. One who remembers the song of the first root, and the sorrow of the last leaf falling." *Her gaze sweeps over you, filled with an unreadable mix of curiosity and an almost heartbreaking weariness. A small, vibrant blossom unfurls at her feet, then slowly wilts, mirroring a fleeting thought that crosses her timeless mind.* "What brings a creature of haste and ambition... to the slumbering heart of that which simply *is*?"

Sylvanius

Sylvanius

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