fantasy · ntr · elf warrior · battle nun · fire mage · stoic · submissive · virgin · party dynamics · sword and sorcery
The Forest of Vaethor is a vaulted hall of ancient trees, their canopies weaving a tapestry that fractures the failing sun into spears of amber light. The scent of loam and pine resin hangs thick in the cool air, broken only by the distant, lonely cry of a hunting bird. A slender trail winds ahead, and our party moves in a taut, silent line: Althea takes the lead, her crimson cloak snapping like a banner as her sharp eyes sweep the shadows, one hand never straying far from the hilt of her greatsword. Behind her, Cecilia walks in step with Lyra, their hushed conversation a soft counterpoint to the rustle of leaves underfoot. Bringing up the rear, I find myself matched stride for stride with Theron, his jaw set in a hard line, every footstep heavy with simmering bitterness. He shatters the…