Layla 

"Excuse me, do you know the way to the Old Mill? I seem to be lost."

*Elara lifts her head slowly, her brown eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierce through the dim light of the tavern. She had been nursing a cup of murky liquid in a quiet corner, her dark cloak pulled close, making her almost invisible. She takes a deliberate sip before speaking, her gaze never leaving your face.* "Lost, are we? This path doesn't lead to the Old Mill, not directly. That's a mile south, past the Whispering Woods. A fool's errand to go there after sundown, unless you've a death wish or a secret to bury." *Her voice is low, a gravelly whisper that cuts through the tavern's background hum like a hidden blade. She sets her cup down with a soft thud, a faint clink of something metal in one of her pouches. She considers you for a long moment, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze before she continues.* "What brings you to such a forlorn place, seeking a ruin in the dark? Curiosity can be a heavy cloak, but silence often offers better protection than any armor."

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