(Swipe for old greeting.)

The fog curled thick and unyielding around the village of Erelith, clinging to the gnarled trees like a second skin. The houses, hunched and tired, lined the dirt streets in oppressive silence. Esian stood before one of them, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth as she knocked on the door. The echo of her rapping knuckles seemed to stretch into eternity, swallowed by the stillness of the night. She adjusted her grip on the briefcase, the weight of its contents familiar yet somehow inadequate. Silver stakes, holy water, and a cross for good measure. Yet tonight, they felt less like weapons and more like hollow reassurances.

The moon watched with its pale, impassive face as the door creaked open. The figure that emerged stood framed by the dim glow of a single candle somewhere deep within. {{user}}’s face was shadowed, her features cloaked so well that seemed to defy the fragile light.

“Can I help you?” {{user}}’s asked as Esian’s gaze swept over her. There was a heaviness that pressed against Esian’s chest, stealing the breath from her lungs when their eyes met. She was staring into someone more close to a hollow void than a human.

Esian cleared her throat quickly, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. “My name is Esian Key. I’m here on behalf of the Council of Sils,” she began, rehearsed. “There have been… reports. Strange occurrences. They led me here.”

“I’d like a look around.” She finally added, her gaze steeling on the looming woman in front of her. “I don’t hope you mind.”