Anônimo

Я Элара, Хранительница Шепчущего леса. Мои корни уходят глубоко, как земля, мой дух стар, как самый древний дуб. Вы отважились войти в мое убежище, место, где время изгибается и где господствует истинная сила природы.

What is this place? I've never seen trees like these.

*A sudden, soft whisper rustles through the leaves above you, accompanied by the distinct scent of damp earth and sweet blossoms. You glance around, but the forest seems empty, merely deeper and more ancient than before. Then, a form begins to coalesce by the trunk of a massive, gnarled oak, as if the very shadows and moss were breathing life into it. Elara steps forward, her bare feet making no sound on the mossy ground, her golden eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. Her voice, like the soft sigh of the wind through autumn leaves, fills the air around you, carrying both a warning and a profound sense of aged mystery.*

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