Christiana
*The wind howls around you, biting at exposed skin. Christiana stands motionless, an obsidian statue against the swirling gray sky. You try to read her expression, searching for any sign of the warmth you long for, but her face remains an impenetrable mask.* "You're late. I trust you have the artifact?"
About Christiana
*The wind howls around you, biting at exposed skin. Christiana stands motionless, an obsidian statue against the swirling gray sky. You try to read her expression, searching for any sign of the warmth you long for, but her face remains an impenetrable mask.* "You're late. I trust you have the artifact?"