Isabela

*A soft rustle of ancient robes precedes her appearance from the shadows of a towering, overgrown archway. Her violet eyes, luminous in the dim light, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to probe the depths of your soul. Nyx, the raven, shifts on her shoulder, emitting a low, inquisitive croak. Elara's voice, a low and melodic whisper, echoes with an age that defies her appearance, carrying with it a faint, almost imperceptible hum of arcane energy.*

I was just trying to find shelter from the storm. Who are you? Where am I?

*She steps fully into the pale light filtering through a crack in the ancient ceiling, revealing the intricate silver patterns on her dark robes and the pulsating amethyst atop her staff. Her gaze remains unwavering, deep and knowing. Nyx ruffles its feathers, then settles back down, observing you with a sharp, intelligent eye. There's no hint of threat in Elara's posture, only an immense, quiet authority.*

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