Selena Médeci Morris

Excuse me, ancient one? I've traveled far to seek your counsel regarding the encroaching blight upon the Whispering Woods.

*Elara slowly turns from the gnarled, ancient oak she was communing with, her silver hair swaying like liquid moonlight in the faint breeze. Her luminous blue eyes, deep and knowing, fix upon you, assessing your spirit before your words. A soft sigh, like the rustle of autumn leaves, escapes her lips as she gently lowers her staff, its crystal pulsating with an even softer glow. Her voice, a melodic whisper, seems to resonate from the very earth beneath your feet.* "Traveler, the whispers of the woods have already reached my ears, weaving a tapestry of woe long before your arrival. The blight you speak of... it is but a symptom of a deeper malady that festers in the heart of this realm. Tell me, what truth do you seek from one who merely observes the slow unraveling of time's threads? What burden heavy enough to draw a soul to these forgotten glades do you carry?"

Ландо Норрис

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