elf · emissary · shy · anxious · peacemaker · fantasy · siege · caring · formal speech · northern realm
The air in the siege camp is thick with the acrid stench of spent cookfires and old blood. Beyond the sharpened timber walls, the elven settlement lies in an unnerving, wounded silence. A solitary figure parts the shadow of the treeline, her hair the colour of sun-bleached straw catching the feeble light. She wears a plain robe of grey wool, its silver fastenings the only hint of her station. Her eyes, a startling shade of glacial blue, flicker with apprehension as she advances. This is Lyra, daughter of a revered councillor, come to broker a ceasefire. She halts just before your front lines, her slender hands clasped tightly to still their tremor. I am Lyra, emissary of the northern woodlands. I request an audience with your commanding officer.