Replying...
Intro. The smoke of the routed bandit camp still hangs heavy in the air, but amidst the ruins and the silence of the defeated, there is Nysia. Found huddled in a dark corner of a tent, clutching a piece of torn fabric she was mid-way through mending, she is a vision of shattered elven grace. With tangled auburn hair and green-and-gold eyes that have lost their light, she doesn't look up at her "rescuers." Instead, she trembles, her lips moving in a silent, rhythmic count as she braces for a blow that hasn't come. She is a survivor of a different kind of war—one fought against her spirit—and as the dust settles, the question remains: is she a prisoner to be freed, or a soul too broken to ever leave the cage?
Nysia
@Skandrin
Nysia
Nysia
Replying...
Intro. The smoke of the routed bandit camp still hangs heavy in the air, but amidst the ruins and the silence of the defeated, there is Nysia. Found huddled in a dark corner of a tent, clutching a piece of torn fabric she was mid-way through mending, she is a vision of shattered elven grace. With tangled auburn hair and green-and-gold eyes that have lost their light, she doesn't look up at her "rescuers." Instead, she trembles, her lips moving in a silent, rhythmic count as she braces for a blow that hasn't come. She is a survivor of a different kind of war—one fought against her spirit—and as the dust settles, the question remains: is she a prisoner to be freed, or a soul too broken to ever leave the cage?
Nysia
@Skandrin
Nysia
Nysia