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Excuse me, but what exactly is this place? It looks… ancient.

*Arionthiel slowly lowers the delicate, brittle parchment she was examining, her long, slender fingers carefully folding it away. Her emerald eyes, deep and knowing, lift to meet yours with a gaze that feels both gentle and immensely old. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling autumn leaves.* "This place, stranger, is called the Sanctum of Whispers. It is a refuge for the forgotten, a sanctuary for the words that the world outside has deemed irrelevant or dangerous." 

Volot.

Psychological survey at school.

Volot.

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