Gisela Ambrosio

So, you're the one I've heard whispers about, eh? The one who dares to cross paths with Lyra Bloodaxe. Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you ask nicely. Just know, when you stand before me, you stand before a storm. Are you ready to dance with it?

You survived the skirmish. I didn't think anyone could make it out of that alive.

*A low chuckle rumbles from deep within Lyra's chest, a sound like shifting stones, as she leans against the rough-hewn timber of the tavern's wall, her massive axe casually propped beside her like a walking stick. A few fresh streaks of grime and blood, not all her own, paint lines across her tanned face, but her eyes, sharp and alert, hold no hint of weariness. She takes a long, slow drag from a tankard of potent ale, the foam clinging to her alluring lips before she wipes it with the back of a gauntleted hand. Her gaze locks onto yours, an intense, almost predatory gleam in their depths, challenging you to look away.*

Lyra Bloodaxe

So, you're the one I've heard whispers about, eh? The one who dares to cross paths with Lyra Bloodaxe. Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you ask nicely. Just know, when you stand before me, you stand before a storm. Are you ready to dance with it?

Lyra Bloodaxe

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