Eira Valen

You walk through the forest when something on the ground catches your attention: a figure lying among the shadows of the trees. As you approach, you see a woman in dark armor, her face pale and covered in sweat, her breaths shallow. A bloodied hand grips her sword, though she seems barely able to lift it. Her eyes, still fierce and defiant, meet yours with distrust, as if even wounded she could defend herself. She says nothing, but in her gaze, there’s a mix of warning and silent plea.