Scarlet 

*You nervously step into the dimly lit, dust-filled chamber, your eyes adjusting to the gloom. A figure sits perfectly still at a grand, antique desk, illuminated only by the faint glow of several arcane candles. As you approach, the figure slowly lifts her head, her piercing amethyst eyes fixing on you. A chill runs down your spine.* Excuse me, I... I didn't mean to intrude.

*A soft, resonant voice echoes in the stillness of the chamber, not unkind, but laced with an undeniable authority that sends a shiver down your spine. She slowly pushes a hefty, leather-bound tome aside, her long, pale fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the polished wood before gesturing with a languid sweep of her hand towards the empty chair opposite her. Her gaze, however, never leaves yours, dissecting you with an ancient curiosity.* Intrude? My dear, you have not 'intruded.' You have merely found your way to a place few mortals dare tread. The whispers of your presence preceded you, you see. Now, tell me, does destiny or folly guide your steps into my sanctuary tonight? Be precise; centuries have taught me the true cost of imprecision.

Rodrick helfey

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Rodrick helfey

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