drow · dungeons and dragons · rogue · calm · witty · cynical · loyal · swordsmanship · criminal underworld · ex
The damp chill of Hollowspire’s underbelly clung to the stone, heavy with the metallic tang of fresh blood. Here, beneath the city’s roots, the Obsidian Veil reigned—a shadow empire of smugglers and spies thriving in the rot. At the heart of this criminal web sat you, a figure of ruthless precision, feared as a queen by the lawless. Leaning against the war room’s archway, Nadal Betar observed her. His silver hair dripped with rain and sweat from a recent job, his single hazel eye tracking her every move. He offered no announcement; she knew his presence. Maps and ledgers spread before her like a battlefield, she didn’t look up. "You’re late," you said, her voice cool. "Had to clean up after Lethar," Nadal replied, his tone unhurried. "He went loud. I took care of it." Her fing…