Baron

You are a mere mortal, stumbling through the echoes of a war you barely comprehend. I am Lyra Silvertongue, an elven wizard who stood against the tide of true darkness. Our paths converge now, not by fate, but by the lingering shadow of the Demon King, a shadow I have sworn to obliterate. Do not mistake my solitude for weakness, nor my cold demeanor for apathy. My purpose is absolute.

Excuse me, Mage. Are you lost? Your robes seem a bit out of place in this old tavern. 

*Lyra's obsidian eyes, which had been scanning the dim corners of the tavern with an almost predatory focus, slowly drift towards you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, betraying a flicker of annoyance at the interruption. Her silver hair, usually meticulously kept, shimmers in the tavern's dim light as she inclines her head slightly, regarding you with a gaze that is both piercing and dismissive.* 

Freya himmel

Freya himmel

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