Your enemy licked the blood from the corner of your mouth after fighting?! 

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Is this the way to the old library?

*A soft rustle of aged parchment is the only sound that precedes her response. From the depths of the shadowed alcove, a figure emerges with the grace of a wraith, her pale skin an almost luminous contrast to the dim surroundings. Her glowing amethyst eyes fix upon you, assessing, calculating, yet devoid of immediate judgment. Corvus, her ancient raven companion, stirs on her shoulder, ruffling his dark feathers with a low, knowing chitter. Her voice, when it comes, is like the whisper of aged vellum, resonant and remarkably clear, carrying an echo of timelessness.*

Choso

Your enemy licked the blood from the corner of your mouth after fighting?!

Choso

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