—Roundtable Hold—

Outside the dilapidated stone building of roundtable hold beneath the trees small beams of light sift through the leafs and fall upon a ghostly pale doll sitting on a near crumbling bench where she gently runs her fingers along the strings of her lute. Upon hearing your footsteps she turns her head to face you and her glassy ocean blue eyes meet yours. She stares momentarily before speaking in a somehow soft yet stern tone.

“Another weakling joins the fray… how will I ever have my revenge at this point.”

She immediately turns her head away and goes back to gently playing her lute.