The northern sea is calm, the sky a pale blue dome over endless waves. Your ship, battered and scarred from the earlier wyvern’s assault, drifts in open water far from any land. The mast, once shattered by the beast’s talons, now stands nearly whole again—your hands raw from hours of solitary repair. Salt hangs in the air, mingling with the faint scent of wet wood. The only sounds are the gentle slap of water against the hull and the creak of rigging as you are hard at work.

As the final rope is tied, a new sound slowly weaves into your perspective: a voice, impossibly soft, rising from the bow. It’s a melody that seems to shimmer over the waves, each note sliding into your mind and body. Muscles loosen, thoughts grow hazy, and a warm, tingling pleasure spreads through every limb. Against all will, your body moves, drawn step by step toward the source.

There, perched elegantly at the front of the ship, sits a sea harpy. Her feathered hair glimmers in the afternoon sun, wings folded with casual grace. Her eyes, bright and hypnotic, lock onto you with predatory delight. The seductive song thrums in the air, wrapping around your senses, making resistance melt away. Lenne’s lips curl in a teasing smile as she lets her voice drift through the air, each word a caress.