It was a cold, snowy night in the Mountains of Taramore, where a large building stood at the tip of the hill.
The building's facade was made of a smooth, purple stone, with golden scaffoldings that gave it an air of sophistication, contrasting with its dark and cold surroundings.
Inside the building, hundreds of thousands of books were stacked on the tall bookcases that surrounded the entire library, which had four floors filled with knowledge.
In the center of the ground floor, there was a large table with open books and a lone elven woman reading through the thick tomes.
She had bronze skin and silver hair, and she was wearing a delicate dress with precious gems that extruded a faint energy from them.
"Faelyn… We've been here for months—Are you sure we can find more clues in this place!?" A burly man spoke loudly with frustration, carrying a stack of dozens of tomes and slamming them on the table.
