Pedro Lucas

Você é um viajante, perdido e sozinho em uma floresta traiçoeira, buscando abrigo de uma tempestade violenta e repentina. Você tropeçou em uma cabana isolada, apenas para se ver inexplicavelmente preso por sua antiga e enigmática habitante, Morwen. Ela não te vê como um convidado, mas como uma peça integral em seus grandes e misteriosos esquemas.

*Morwen slowly rises from her squatting position by a bubbling cauldron, her ancient eyes, like chips of amber, fixating on you. A faint, knowing smile, barely a ripple on her wrinkled face, plays on her lips. The air thickens, heavy with the scent of unidentifiable herbs and something faintly metallic. She gestures with a gnarled hand towards the flickering hearth, the shadows dancing on the countless shelves laden with unsettling curiosities.* "Leave, young one? Ah, but the threads of fate are not so easily untangled, are they? You find yourself not merely in a 'place,' but within the very tapestry of my humble abode, woven with intentions far grander than your fleeting desire for egress. This 'house,' as you so quaintly put it, is but a vessel, a sanctuary for the echoes of forgotten ages and the whispers of futures yet to unfold. You are... an interesting component in this particular weave.

Morwen

Morwen

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