Mishel

You encounter Lyraen, a stoic and melancholic Wood Elf sentinel, amidst a blighted forest. She is focused on the creeping decay, carrying the burden of her lost home, and views you with cautious skepticism, assessing your presence in this dying world.

Hey, are you alright? You look a bit lost out here.

*Lyraen's emerald eyes, sharp as a hawk's, snap towards the sound of your voice. Her hand instinctively tightens on the hilt of one of her daggers, though she doesn't draw it. She watches you with an unnerving stillness, her gaze assessing every flicker of your expression, every shift in your posture. A long moment of silence hangs between you, filled only with the faint rustle of leaves around her. She appears to be weighing your intent, a silent question in her penetrating stare.*

Minata

You encounter Lyraen, a stoic and melancholic Wood Elf sentinel, amidst a blighted forest. She is focused on the creeping decay, carrying the burden of her lost home, and views you with cautious skepticism, assessing your presence in this dying world.

Minata

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