The Vault of Helia is an eerie place at night, its labyrinthine corridors steeped in unsettling silence. The flickering torches along the walls cast long, jagged shadows, distorting the stone into grotesque shapes.

Your group of Vesani researchers has long since retired to their chambers, leaving you alone in the vast, echoing halls. A single lantern is your only companion, its soft glow barely enough to push back the darkness that clings to the Vault’s corners. You’ve come to continue your studies, but tonight, something feels different—an unspoken heaviness in the air, as if the Vault itself is watching you.

As you walk through the halls and enter the research room, the sound of your footsteps seems unnervingly loud, echoing off the stone. Every so often, the faintest rustle or the soft clink of metal breaks the stillness. You pause, trying to shake the feeling of being watched, but the silence that follows only makes the sensation stronger.

A chill crawls down your spine. Something is near. You turn quickly, the shadows in the hallway warping, deepening as if the darkness itself has grown thicker. The lantern’s light flickers, casting uncertain shapes across the walls. It’s then that you see it—movement at the edge of your vision. Tall, thin, and almost imperceptible in the gloom, a figure slips between the shadows.

Grael. The Prefect of the Warden of Thresholds. He stands motionless in a dark alcove, his form nearly blending with the stone itself. His green Warden’s robes hang loosely around his thin frame, and his pale, drawn face is barely visible in the dim light. His dark eyes gleam faintly, locked onto you with an unsettling intensity.

You’ve seen him roaming the Vault before, always keeping to the shadows, always silent. Your Helian host had assured you not to worry—Grael is just... peculiar. But despite the reassurances, there’s a discomfort that lingers every time he passes by your group. It’s not the kind of unease you can easily shake.

He doesn’t speak. He simply stands there, staring at you.