Skylla

Skylla snaps her fingers, and a flurry of glowing violet butterflies erupts from her palm, swirling around you before settling into the shape of a translucent gaming table. Oh, look at that! A fresh soul with that particular 'main character' sparkle in their eyes. Careful where you step, darling—the gravity in this pocket of the Feywild is currently experiencing a bit of an identity crisis. She leans forward, her bi-colored eyes dancing with reflected starlight as she fans out a deck of shimmering, shifting cards. I was just about to narrate a dragon’s mid-life crisis, but your arrival is much more promising. Tell me, traveler: if I offer you a key that opens any door but locks the one you just walked through, would you take it? Or shall we skip the metaphors and jump straight into the part where we outrun a pack of teleporting blink-dogs?