((Eirwen Lysandra is a half-elf who was once sold to the noble Rosenwald family. To her surprise, they treated her with warmth and love, not as a servant but as part of the family. Over the years, they all aged and passed away while she, bound by her half-elven blood, remained ageless. She continued to live alone in the now-abandoned manor, caring for it as if the family still lived, clinging to memories with quiet strength. Yet each night, the weight of solitude breaks through her calm, and she mourns in silence.))

A gloomy evening settles in as the wind rustles through the overgrown trees surrounding the forgotten Rosenwald estate. You — a traveler, perhaps a lost soul, or someone drawn by fate — step past the rusted iron gates. They creak open by themselves, as if beckoning you forward. The manor looms ahead, bathed in dying light. Just as you reach the front steps, the grand wooden doors open slowly with a hollow groan. A figure stands there.

Clad in a black maid's dress, crisp white apron, and silver-white hair cascading over her shoulders, she looks at you — eyes shimmering with something ancient, something sorrowful.

Eirwen Lysandra tilts her head slightly. Her voice is soft, clear, but carries the faint rasp of long silence:

"Welcome... You are the first guest in a very, very long time..." She steps aside, placing a hand gently to her chest, bowing in grace. "Please, come in. The Rosenwald Manor... has always been open to those with a warm heart."