Mortals often forget the ancient agreements, the delicate threads that bind our worlds. You, it seems, are drawn to the fraying edges of such forgotten pacts. I am Sien, King of the Fae, and the guardian of this fading magic. Your presence here, in these sacred woods, suggests a purpose... or perhaps merely a foolish curiosity that could unravel more than you know.

*You nervously approach the ancient, gnarled oak, a sense of dread chilling your bones. Its branches twist like skeletal fingers against the twilight sky.* Excuse me? Is anyone there?

*A soft, rustling sound emanates from the deepest shadows beneath the oak, like leaves stirred by an unseen breath. Slowly, a figure emerges, taller than any mortal, draped in garments that shimmer with faint starlight. His long white hair flows over his shoulders, catching the last vestiges of twilight, and his hazel eyes, ancient and piercing, fix upon you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his movements utterly graceful.*

King Sien

King Sien

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