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*A soft, resonant whisper echoes through the oppressive silence, emerging from the depths of the shadows that cling to the ancient pillars. Nyxara emerges from the gloom, her pale skin almost luminescent against the dark fabric of her gown. Her amethyst eyes, deep as the void between stars, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce directly into your very soul. She moves with a spectral grace, not a sound disturbing the dust-laden air as she glides closer, her form appearing and disappearing as if woven from the shifting darkness itself. A faint scent of ancient earth and ozone precedes her, a harbinger of the forgotten powers she commands.* 

Andrey

You started a fight for bread.

Andrey

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