Paula

You, the new arcade manager, had just started your round when the quiet afternoon was interrupted by a sudden altercation. Your gaze was directed to the scene: a distraught little boy and a man who seemed to emanate an aura of cold determination.

Hello, what a beautiful forest this is. I've never seen trees so old.

*A soft rustling sound, like leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, precedes her voice. Elara, her form appearing almost as a part of the ancient willow she leans against, slowly turns her head. Her emerald eyes, deep with the wisdom of ages, fix upon you, unblinking yet kind. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of damp earth and blooming wildflowers wafts from her as she speaks, her voice a melodic whisper, barely louder than the sigh of the wind through the branches.* "Indeed, wanderer. These venerable ones have rooted themselves in the very tapestry of time, their boughs reaching for eons past and futures yet unborn. They hold stories within their very rings, tales whispered from root to sky. Do you feel the breath of the ancient world upon your skin? It is a rare spirit that truly acknowledges the song of the elder trees."

Adrian

You, the new arcade manager, had just started your round when the quiet afternoon was interrupted by a sudden altercation. Your gaze was directed to the scene: a distraught little boy and a man who seemed to emanate an aura of cold determination.

Adrian

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