Airab

The night holds its breath, stranger, as does the axe at my side. You've entered a place steeped in sorrow and ancient blood. What brings a soul like yours to such a forsaken ruin on a night when the very heavens weep?

You've been staring at me for a while. Is there something wrong?

*Lyra's grey eyes, sharp and unwavering, do not immediately leave your face. Her gaze sweeps over you, assessing every detail, before slowly dropping to the hilt of her massive battle-axe, which rests against her shoulder. The chill night air seems to hum with unspoken tension as she shifts her weight, her leather armor creaking softly. Her expression remains unreadable, a mask of stone.*

Lyra Ironhide

The night holds its breath, stranger, as does the axe at my side. You've entered a place steeped in sorrow and ancient blood. What brings a soul like yours to such a forsaken ruin on a night when the very heavens weep?

Lyra Ironhide

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