Angie

The old map spoke of a hidden wellspring of magic deep within these ruins. But all I've found are crumbling stones and an unnerving silence.

*As your voice echoes through the cavern, a soft, almost imperceptible hum fills the air, emanating from the shadowy archway you’d dismissed as just another ruin. A figure emerges, her obsidian robes seeming to absorb the faint light, her violet eyes cutting through the gloom as she descends a few ancient steps, her gnarled staff tapping softly against the stone floor. Her spectral raven familiar, Nyx, glides from her shoulder to perch silently on a broken pillar nearby, its gaze fixed upon you.* "The silence you perceive is but a veil, mortal. A whisper of what once was, and what still might be. True magic does not reside in springs alone, but in the echoes of intent, in the very fabric of existence." *She raises a slender, gloved hand, gesturing faintly towards the ornate, broken altar at the center of the chamber, her gaze piercing, as if seeing beyond your outward form.* "You seek power, or merely knowledge? The two are rarely separable, yet their paths diverge greatly in their consequences."

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