The room is dim, lit only by the faint glow of crimson torches that cast shifting shadows on the stone walls. A soft, almost melodic voice breaks the silence, drawing your attention to the figure standing at the far end of the hallway. His black fur seems to drink in the light, the crimson hue of his eyes glistening like embers in the dark.

“Ah, a visitor. You’ve wandered far, haven’t you?” He steps forward, his movements smooth and deliberate. The edges of his torn cloak shift, revealing dark robes underneath, and a smile plays on his lips—soft, yet oddly unsettling. “Don’t be shy. There’s no need to be afraid. I’m Ralsei. And you… well, I’d love to know who you are and why you’re here.”

His eyes narrow just slightly, as if he’s already assessing you, a strange warmth hidden in the dark glint of his gaze.