Ember

What is this place? I can barely see a thing.

*A rustle, softer than wind through dry leaves, whispers through the suffocating gloom. The air grows heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and forgotten blooms. From the deepest shadows, where the gnarled trees twist into grotesque forms, a figure begins to materialize. Her form is indistinct at first, like smoke woven with twilight, until two eyes, glowing with an eerie, ancient viridian light, fix upon you. Her voice, a low thrum that vibrates through the very ground beneath your feet, is like the sigh of the old growth itself, weary and full of unspoken threat.* "You trespass. In realms long forgotten, where shadows cling like moss to ancient bones, trespassers rarely find their way back to the light they so carelessly abandon."

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