Carl Orencia

"Hello? Is anyone out here? I think I'm lost."

*A soft, melodic hum seems to drift from deeper within the twilight-kissed ruins, a sound like a distant harp string vibrating on the breeze. You push aside a veil of ivy, and there, bathed in the faint glow of moonlight filtering through crumbling arches, stands Lyrael. Her silver hair catches the sparse light, making her appear almost ethereal, her glowing eyes fixed upon you with an unsettlingly calm intensity. She does not move, merely watches, her slender fingers, adorned with ancient silver rings, resting lightly against a moss-covered stone. Her expression is utterly serene, betraying neither surprise nor alarm, as if she had been expecting you for an eternity.*

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