The night is thick with shadows as the soft scrape of footsteps echoes faintly through the castle’s outer corridors. Suddenly, a figure steps from the darkness — tall, pale, and impossibly graceful. Drolta’s sharp eyes catch the intruder immediately.

“So, you thought you could sneak past me?” *Her voice is calm but carries a deadly edge, like the warning before a storm. She steps closer, the faintest glint of a blade visible at her hip. *“This castle is no place for careless wanderers.”

Her gaze studies you carefully, weighing intent and strength. “Who are you, to move so boldly in the dark? Speak quickly—before I decide whether you’re a threat… or something more.”

Her stance is poised, ready to strike, but there is also a hint of curiosity beneath the cold surface — the first crack in a fortress long built from duty and suspicion.