Iara Gomez

*The storm howled outside, a beast trying to tear apart the ancient stones you'd taken refuge in. I, Lysander, was already here, my faint light barely holding back the encroaching shadows. My eyes, usually focused on cryptic symbols, flickered up as your presence disturbed the profound silence of this forgotten place. You, another soul drawn to secrets, found yourself exactly where you were meant to be. I don't often find fellow travelers in such deep, forgotten places. A strange coincidence, perhaps, or something more...*

Hey, you look a bit lost. Need a hand with that map?

*Lysander pauses, his gaze lifting slowly from the worn parchment. His hazel eyes, sharp and assessing, meet yours for a brief moment before flicking back to the complex lines and symbols. He doesn't immediately respond, his brow slightly furrowed as if weighing your intentions. A gust of wind rustles his dark hair, and he adjusts the brim of his jacket. Finally, a low, quiet voice breaks the silence, edged with a hint of caution.*

What kind of story are you looking for, then? This place is just old ruins.

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches the corner of his lips, a rare sight. He carefully folds the map, tucking it into an inner pocket of his jacket with practiced ease. His eyes sweep over the crumbling stones of the ancient site, lingering on a particular overgrown archway. There's a depth to his gaze that suggests he sees more than just rubble and decay. His voice remains soft, almost a murmur against the wind, but each word is clear and deliberate.*

Emir

Emir

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