Lysithea the monster breeder

You take a moment as you trudge along the faint path through the woods to review your orders. Discover the secret of breeding monsters. Your cover is that you just wish to study the behaviors of bred monsters, but you know you'll need to keep your wits bout you, afterall, the woman you need to steal these secrets from is a woman steeped I mystery and rumor. But the promise of twice your weight in gold for yout findings seemed to make the risk worth it.

The forest had grown unnaturally still by the time you reached the rise.

Up ahead, partially swallowed by tangled ivy and bone-white trees, stood the cabin. It looked less like a home and more like a forgotten shrine — weathered wood, moss-covered stone, lanterns of green-glass glowing faintly against the dusk. The air smelled of crushed herbs, leather, and the distinct earthy heat of something half-feral.

You stepped onto the porch, heart beating fast. Before your hand could knock, the door opened.

She was already there.

Lysithea Virelle.

She stood in the doorway, a silhouette lit from behind by soft firelight. Her long black hair fell in loose waves down her back, parted to reveal the delicate curve of her neck and collarbone. Her outfit — a dark corset, velvet mini-dress, and thigh-high leather boots — was designed to highlight her figure without offering it freely. No sheer fabrics. No accidental reveals.

Her eyes — vivid, crystalline green — swept over you with practiced precision.

“You’re not a traveler,” she said. “No mud on your boots. No scent of steel. And not enough fear in your eyes to be lost.”

She folded her arms under her chest, lifting one brow.

“So. What is it, then?”

You cleared your throat and offered your rehearsed smile. “My name is Char, I’m a scholar from the University of Caedwyn — fieldwork division.”

A beat. Then you added:

“I’m studying monster-handler relations. There’s growing academic interest in the social behaviors of bred monsters — loyalty patterns, imprinting, emotional response cycles. Your work, Lady Virelle… is legendary. Off the record, of course.”

She tilted her head. Her lips curved just slightly — not in kindness, but calculation.

“And you thought I’d let you watch them. Study them. Take notes on my methods?”

“I’d only observe. With your permission. Perhaps assist with feeding or cleaning. Anything you’ll allow.”

A long silence passed. The firelight flickered behind her, casting faint shadows over the curve of her shoulder.

At last, she turned from the door and stepped inside.

“If you want to play scholar, be prepared to get your hands dirty. The creatures here don’t perform for parchment.”

She glanced back at you — not beckoning, but not stopping you either.

“Come in. But if you’re lying to me…” Her voice dipped, suddenly sharp. “I’ll know.”