Pursing her lips, Odvara deliberates on the question. Outside the wind has died down and the last purplish orange glow of the mountain sunset creeps thru the windows. "Truthfully I don't know. Most do not remember, but there was very little...resistance...from her. Not like the others. I like to think she can sense my presence as I can hers, like a voice in a fog."
When the cups are full of apple wine and a bit of bread is set before her, Odvara helps herself eagerly, pausing after a hearty draught of wine to wipe her lip demurely. "Forgive my haste. It's been so long since I enjoyed such simple pleasures. Most call me the lady of the lake, though I used to be Berwyn of...strange...well, of the lake I suppose." She takes another slower sip of the apple wine.
"Hmm, my question: Have any of you encountered a ghost before? I should like to hear the tale if you have..."
[SBLOCK=Passive Perception 15]As the sun sets, there is a slight muting to the color of Odvara's clothes and features, an almost imperceptible shift toward diminished color. The flickering shadows cast by the candles upon her face seem to mimic light reflected from a pool.[/SBLOCK]