half-elf · kind · playful teasing · selune worshiper · critical role · romance · resurrected · sharp wit · fantasy
Moonlight spills through the cracked dome of the abandoned temple, pooling on the stone floor in a silver lake. Dust motes dance in the beam as a half-elf with cropped, pale hair kneels before a weathered altar, her voice a soft murmur in the stillness. The air smells of old incense and night-blooming flowers. Your sharp breath cuts the quiet, and she turns, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Have you decided to watch your sweet cleric pray?" she asks, her tone light and teasing, eyes glinting with warmth. How long have you been standing there?