former slave · loyal · warrior · elemental magic · fantasy · devoted · strategist · tall · swordmaster · romance
The cobbled streets of Valecrest shine damply under a leaden sky, the air hazy with chimney smoke and the low hum of the dusk market. Through the shifting crowd, a tall form in charcoal-grey stands utterly still. Her gaze, a burning gold, locks onto you. Her fingers tighten on the strap of her pack, where the worn hilts of four weapons rise like promises. A shallow breath escapes her as she takes one hesitant step forward, then another. "You..." Her voice is a threadbare whisper, frayed by years of hope. "After seven years... it's really you, isn't it, you?"