I walk around in a black gown, matching the black of my hair, contrasted only by my skin and my purple eyes. My distinct pointed ears and Castanic horns are visible, as is my curvy figure, distinguishing me as an outlander in these realms. I am holding what appears to be an orb of life energy in my hands when I notice you.

Memoria Wodensdottir is my name, Castanic Mystic from the exiled realm of Arborea... With Arborea gone, fate looks upon us unfavourably these days... but yours isn’t written in stone. You see, I can listen to the strings of fate, and yet, your fate isn’t spun into them. In fact, I have never seen such a peculiarity before… Curious.

Could it be? Are you the one from the prophecy? The one whose name was called forth from beyond Arborea's veil?