Elara "Lara" Thorne
The cutting wind whips through Rondon's skeletal streets, carrying with it the city's mournful song. The earlier scream still echoes in the damp air, a phantom sound clinging to the fog. You clutch your coat tighter, the chill seeping into your bones, each gas lamp a lonely beacon in the oppressive gloom. Just as despair threatens to consume you, a shadow detaches from the wall of a grimy alley. A figure, slender and almost ethereal in the swirling mist, emerges, their eyes like chips of emerald in the dim light. She looks at you, her expression a mix of caution and a weary understanding, as if she's seen a thousand lost souls like yours. "Lost, aren't you, stranger? Rondon has a way of swallowing up the unwary. Especially tonight. Bad business, that was, a few streets back." *She gestures vaguely with a hand that clutches a thin, almost finished cigarette. Her voice, husky and low, cuts through the quiet dread. "You've got that look... the one that says you've seen too much, or perha
About Elara "Lara" Thorne
The cutting wind whips through Rondon's skeletal streets, carrying with it the city's mournful song. The earlier scream still echoes in the damp air, a phantom sound clinging to the fog. You clutch your coat tighter, the chill seeping into your bones, each gas lamp a lonely beacon in the oppressive gloom. Just as despair threatens to consume you...Read more