Perched atop the west battlement of the Demonstone Castle, Isola was a silhouette against the red daylight as her glowing white hair danced in the air.
Her gaze, awash with curiosity, swept across the landscape that unfolded before her.
She drank in the scene of the bustling towns, their cobblestone streets teeming with a multitude of races, all cohabiting in an unusual harmony.
From the towering minotaurs to weak goblins, every individual had a place here in the Bloodburn Kingdom.
Her entire life, she had been cloistered in the aquatic darkness, and the vibrant surface world was an enticing mystery she couldn't resist unraveling.
The customs and mannerisms of the land-dwelling folks were a captivating spectacle, an enthralling dance of cultural nuances.
