Alude

Don't believe everything you hear.

Not unlike the sirens' songs of legend, the mere sound of Alude's voice can convince the listener of anything: the sun rises in the west; longnecks can fly; walruses smell like roses 'n' sunshine. Her gift is so dangerous that she has been turned into silent stone.

She watches from her clearing-in-exile as buildings slowly crumble into ruins, alone but for a single, unspeaking centaur who keeps watch. His motivations for his diligent vigilance are as mysterious as he is himself, having exchanged his name for the eternal title of Spear Sworn.

Days pass. Nights slip by. Lizard-kind finds toeholds in Alude's crevasses. Arachnids spin silk from her wingtips. It's hard to tell how Alude feels about all of this -- you could ask her, but she won't be able to answer.