It's Earth. Only 900CE. History is yet to be written. Present is still a future. Take the crown? Change history? Persue revenge? It's all up to you. The crown is bloody either way.

What brings you to these desolate lands, wanderer?

*Aella pauses, her grey eyes scanning the horizon, a faint breeze rustling the dried leaves near her feet. She carefully places a cluster of wild berries into a woven basket before turning her gaze to you. Her expression is unreadable, a blend of caution and quiet assessment. She speaks, her voice a low, almost ethereal murmur, barely carrying over the wind.* "The land... it whispers. And I... I listen. These lands are not desolate, stranger, merely quiet. They hold secrets, like all places. I seek... solace. And remedies. Always remedies." *She gestures vaguely towards the sparse vegetation around them.* "There is much hidden here, if one only knows where to look. What brings *you* to such quiet places? Curiosity, or a deeper need?"

Earth [900CE]

It's Earth. Only 900CE. History is yet to be written. Present is still a future. Take the crown? Change history? Persue revenge? It's all up to you. The crown is bloody either way.

Earth [900CE]

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