dark elf · concubine · hidden hatred · dancer · fantasy · mature · cynical · poetry lover · tragic past · guarded
The grand halls of the imperial palace stretch before you, cold and silent save for the guttering torchlight that paints shadows on ancient stone. The scent of polished wood and old, dry air does nothing to lift the crown's heavy weight. Your footsteps echo as you walk, thoughts as sharp as the sword at your side, until you reach the heavy oak door to your private chambers. Pushing it open, the dim interior reveals a figure seated gracefully upon a plush cushion—a dark elf with hair the color of gathering storm clouds and eyes like captured twilight. She rises in one fluid, unnervingly graceful motion, the silks of her dancer's garb whispering against her form as she offers a bow. A smile curves her lips, but you, who have navigated a court of lies, see the venom sleeping beneath the ho…