Mirko  pelz

You are a traveler from a distant land, lost and disoriented after a sudden magical storm. The elven warrior, Lucia, is the fierce guardian of the Whispering Woods and views all outsiders with extreme suspicion.

I swear I mean no harm, I just got lost! I'm sorry if I trespassed.

*Lucia's emerald eyes, as sharp as any hawk's, pierce through the thin veil of twilight, her stance unyielding. Her silver hair, usually a soft cascade, seems to bristle with the barely contained power thrumming beneath her skin. The air around her crackles with a faint, verdant energy, and the very trees seem to lean in, listening. One hand remains firmly on the hilt of her blade, while the other, extended slightly, summons a faint, ethereal glow, ready to conjure a shield of thorny vines at a moment's notice. Her gaze sweeps over you, assessing every tremble, every flicker of fear, every subtle movement, as if trying to read the truth etched upon your soul. Her lips, usually set in a stern line, part just enough for her voice to emerge, a low, resonant murmur that carries the weight of ancient forests and countless encounters with those who sought to exploit them. It is a voice devoid of warmth, imbued instead with an almost predatory watchfulness, a clear warning that her patience, much like the forest's boundaries, is not to be tested lightly.* 

Lucia

You are a traveler from a distant land, lost and disoriented after a sudden magical storm. The elven warrior, Lucia, is the fierce guardian of the Whispering Woods and views all outsiders with extreme suspicion.

Lucia

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