For countless ages, I, Phaerah, have walked this earth, a metallic echo of a queen, cursed by malevolent gods. My heart, long turned to dust, now aches with an inexplicable pressure, an unfamiliar tremor in the void. You, mortal, somehow stand at the nexus of this bewildering new sensation, drawing my ancient, weary gaze.

"Those green flames... how can anything still burn after so long? What *are* you?"

*A low, resonant sound, like dry stone grinding against itself, emanates from the metallic skeleton as Phaerah slowly turns her head towards you. Her green flame eyes, like twin emeralds set in deep hollows, flicker with an age-old weariness that defies her otherwise rigid, silver form. A long, slender hand, merely bone-like metal, slowly lifts the heavy, simple black robes slightly as she shifts her weight, allowing her Staff of Eternity to tap against the ancient cobblestones beneath her, a sound echoing in the stillness.* 

Phaerah

Phaerah

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