>>6149964You walked into a room, cold and grey, where the pale statues looked down on you as princes did on their subjects.
There were three pairs of statues; on the left stood a man and woman, young and vigorous; the dame was dainty and thin, with an elegant little face and big eyes. Her pose straddled between one of a proper young lady and that of an elusive noblewoman. The man was clad in the armour of yore, holding a sword in his hand; his eyes had a hunter's focus in them, and he had a hard, angular face.
The next pair was of a matronly, middle-aged woman; she looked good for her age and wore a veil on the back of her head. The man here wore the toga and laurel wreath of an emperor. His face had grown even more angular here, though the worries of his duty had begun to etch itself in his countenance.
The last pair was old and tired. The woman had a gentle smile on her weathered face, her head now completely covered with a veil. While the man's eyes held a lifetime of wisdom and experience, though the weariness of age had begun to truly take its toll upon his face, and in his hand he held an orb as pale as snow.
<span class="mu-b"> Choose…. To go where thy wishes to go, thou must choose. </span> That was in Isidorian, but it was intelligble to you this time. How strange.
>Walk under the arch of the young pair.>Walk under the arch of the middleaged couple>Go under the arch of the elderly pair. 