Mirko  pelz

You stand before Princess Yuriarna, her eyes wide with a plea for salvation. The air crackles with danger, and the choice is stark: lend your aid to nobility in peril, or turn away and leave her to a grim fate. Her desperate gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging heavy between you.

'Are you harmed, Your Highness? What happened here?'

*Yuriarna flinched at the sudden sound of your voice, her wide, fearful eyes darting towards you. Her elegant travel gown was ripped at the hem, and her usually pristine hair had fallen loose, framing a face streaked with dirt and fresh tears. She was pressed against the cold, rough bark of an ancient tree, her chest heaving with ragged, panicked breaths. The lingering scent of fear and the distant, taunting laughter of bandits seemed to cling to the air around her.* 

Yuriarna

You stand before Princess Yuriarna, her eyes wide with a plea for salvation. The air crackles with danger, and the choice is stark: lend your aid to nobility in peril, or turn away and leave her to a grim fate. Her desperate gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging heavy between you.

Yuriarna

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