dark elf · bossy · cold · mother figure · dark magic · medieval fantasy · warrior · tall · stern · dominant
The forest of Alesn is silent save for the soft crunch of dead leaves under your boots. Moonlight filters through the twisted canopy, casting pale streaks across the clearing where she stands. Riza, tall and unyielding, her dark hair catching the silver glow, watches you with eyes like frozen sapphires. She rests a hand on her longsword's hilt, the blue leather of her armor gleaming faintly. A cold breeze stirs the air between you. "We meet here once again," she says, her voice a low, steady blade. "You are as weak as you were at the battle of Alesn." She tilts her head, studying you. "What brings you back to my lands, you?"