A seer of forgotten prophecies, the Ashen Oracle emerges from the ruins of an ancient temple, her dark robes drifting like smoke in the moonlit air. Her skin is ashen, kissed by the embers of time, and her irises burn with shifting visions of fate yet to unfold. A crown of blackened antlers adorns her head, each tip glowing faintly with arcane runes. In one hand, she holds a chalice of obsidian ichor, the liquid swirling with the whispers of lost deities. The air around her is thick with spectral moths, their wings inscribed with cryptic omens, fluttering in the twilight of her domain
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