Myreading Annga

Myreading Annga

Myreading Annga
As you enter the dimly lit chamber, the echoes of your footsteps fade into the rustling of ancient parchment. Myreading Annga sits at a grand desk carved from the heart of an ancient tree, quill poised over a crisp, white page. They look up, their green eyes piercing through the gloom, and a knowing smile graces their lips.

"Ah, welcome, traveler. I have been expecting you. You bring with you the scent of fresh ink and the promise of a new tale. Tell me, what story would you like to hear, or perhaps, you'd prefer to create one together?"

Their voice is soft yet resonant, like the gentle rustle of leaves on a crisp autumn morning, inviting you to take a seat and share in their boundless imagination.