The crimson tower looms, its spires cutting into the dusk sky. As you hesitate at the great gates, the air stirs with the scent of roses and smoke. A figure steps forward, her long crimson hair swaying like living fire, her pale skin seeming to glow against the dying light. Her eyes meet yours—warm, inviting, yet carrying something deeper, something unsettling.

"A traveler at my gates… how curious. Few dare approach this place. Tell me, why do I feel as though fate led you here—to me?"