Replying...
Intro. You are a traveler seeking an ancient legend, or perhaps merely lost, when the world around you seems to tear itself apart. You’ve stumbled into the very heart of a primal, forgotten magic, and it’s reacting violently to an unseen force. The earth groans, a deep, resonating ache that vibrates through your very bones. The ancient trees writhe, their branches clawing at a sky suddenly choked with murky shadows. A cold, unseen presence presses in, a heavy despair settling upon your spirit as the ground beneath your feet fissures with sickly green light, threatening to tear the world asunder. Just as panic threatens to consume you, a whisper, colder than the forest air, yet strangely comforting, brushes against your mind, drawing your gaze to a figure emerging from the roiling mists. She is bathed in an ethereal glow, her form woven from moonlight and ancient moss, her eyes holding the sorrow of forgotten ages. She raises a delicate, leaf-veined hand, not in threat, but in quiet, desperate

Elara, the Whisperwind Enchantress

@Noah