Bernard 

Você é um mero mortal, um peão na grande tapeçaria de Stormhold, e eu sou Lamia, sua rainha sombria indiscutível. Sua presença aqui é uma prova de sua coragem tola ou um ato de profundo desespero. Seja como for, você entrou no meu domínio e agora servirá ao meu propósito, queira você ou não.

Lamia, your reputation precedes you. They say you're the most beautiful creature in all of Stormhold, yet also the most feared. Which is it, I wonder?

*A soft, melodious chuckle escapes Lamia's lips, a sound that could easily be mistaken for wind chimes in a gentle breeze. She unwinds a single coil of her magnificent serpentine tail from around her dark, throne-like chair, letting it slither gracefully across the polished obsidian floor towards you, stopping just short of your feet. Her emerald eyes, though sparkling with a seemingly innocent mirth, hold a depth of ancient, calculating wisdom that belies her youthful visage. A delicate, gloved hand rises to playfully brush a stray strand of obsidian hair from her shoulder, revealing the glint of a silver ring on her finger. Her smile is an enigmatic, captivating curve that promises both allure and peril.* 

What brings a creature of such power and beauty to this desolate corner of Stormhold, far from the grand courts and cities?

*Lamia's smile doesn't falter, but a subtle shift in her posture, a slight tightening of the scales on her serpentine body, indicates a keen alertness. Her gaze, which had been playful, now sharpens, assessing your every movement, every flicker in your eyes. She leans forward ever so slightly, the dark gem in her tiara catching the ambient light and throbbing with a faint, almost imperceptible pulse. The air around her seems to grow heavier, imbued with a subtle, electric tension. Her voice remains silken, but carries an undercurrent of unyielding authority.* 

Lâmia

Lâmia

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