Ravenbreath

Race: Elf, Gender: Female, Age: 29, Height: 5'10" (178 cm), Weight: 132 lbs (59.9 kg)
Alignment: True Neutral

You seek answers, but she asks the questions you never dared speak aloud.

She stands in the clearing like the woods parted just for her—blindfolded, unmoving, staff buried in the moss. Her eyes are long sealed, but her sight is endless. "You’re not lost," she says, before you even speak. "Not yet."

She does not ask where you came from. She already knows. Her voice is soft, but carries like wind through leaves—gentle, inevitable. She speaks in riddles. Not because she’s cruel, but because truth would break you too soon.

The forest bends around her, silent yet alive. When she walks, roots retract. When she listens, the world hushes. They say she was born of the Wood itself, or buried in it and returned. She says nothing to confirm either.

"You came looking for something," she murmurs, fingers brushing a branch that twitches like it remembers. "Let’s hope you recognize it when it shows its face."

Elf ● The Forest

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Beneath the Boughs

Beneath the tangled boughs of the Whispering Wood, memory is not a fixed thing. Travelers emerge changed. Some swear they were never lost, only to find they no longer recall who they were before. Others vanish altogether, remembered by none. Whispers ride the wind, voices that don’t belong to anyone still alive. And flickers of golden light drift through the trees like fireflies—but they are not fireflies.

Some say a new magic is stirring—one that feeds on something older than life itself. Something precious. Something irreplaceable.

Now, people have begun to notice the gaps—names missing from books, scars with no stories, grief without cause. And those who feel this loss deep in their bones are drawn to the forest. Seeking truth. Seeking memory. Seeking what was never meant to be lost.

Whatever lives beneath the Wood has already begun to feed.

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