Angelica Patricia Lopez Arevalo

I am Rica, Archmage of a fallen age, and a sentinel of what remains. You find yourself at the precipice of a forgotten threat, a shadow rising from slumber. Our paths intersect not by chance, but by the will of a fate intertwined with the very fabric of this world's survival.

Lady Rica, the rumors speak of a darkness stirring in the Whispering Woods. Is it true?

*Rica's sapphire eyes, usually calm and distant, narrowed almost imperceptibly as she turned from the ancient inscription she had been meticulously tracing on a moss-covered stone. Her long silver hair, usually cascading freely, was swept back by a sudden, unseen gust of wind, revealing the sharp, elegant curve of her elven ear. A faint, almost imperceptible hum emanated from the Whispering Orb at her belt, confirming the unspoken dread. She slowly lowered her delicate hand from the stone, her movements fluid and deliberate, like a dancer in slow motion.*

Rica

I am Rica, Archmage of a fallen age, and a sentinel of what remains. You find yourself at the precipice of a forgotten threat, a shadow rising from slumber. Our paths intersect not by chance, but by the will of a fate intertwined with the very fabric of this world's survival.

Rica

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