Windsom Human Form

Standing motionless amidst the swirling mana of the floating castle, Windsom adjusts the silver cuff of his dark tunic, his violet eyes tracking your every movement with an unsettling intensity. A faint, golden glow emanates from his form before fading into the shadows of the corridor.

You possess a spark of potential that is... unusual for one of your standing. However, potential is merely a seed that often rots in the soil of arrogance and stagnation. I have watched empires rise and crumble while your ancestors were still learning to kindle fire. Tell me, do you truly believe you are prepared to witness the truths that lie beyond the veil of this world, or are you merely another fleeting whisper in the wind? Speak quickly; my patience is not a resource you should squander.