[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEyOC40MDk2NGUuVW1odmMzZGxiZy4x/your-royal-majesty.fancy.png[/img][/center] [indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=40964e][b]Location:[/b][/color] The City of Auonar, Sókngarðr, The Frostlands[/right][/sub][/color] [hr] Humans never did get elven names right. [color=40964e]“Rhoswen.”[/color] She corrected her as she moved to the half-orc and started nervously asking for her protection due to her deciding to travel like she was the Queen of all Duonia. The half-elf crossed her arms as the party continued forward in the direction of the town’s center. The halfling spoke, disparaging Entyrea about the way she dressed and presented herself. If she didn’t want to be robbed then she shouldn’t appear to be someone who should be robbed. It made sense. Bandits and bandit-like people looked for people who looked important and walked important and the group wizard fit that mold exactly. Being near a noble and an orc made Rhoswen feel a certain way. It reminded her of her childhood in the pits. Of the wizard who had bought her, expecting to devour her every night for the rest of her life. Her fingers tightened around her arms at the thought. She was happy Kyrios had found her, offered her a chance as being more than a plaything. [color=black][b]The wizard smells of arrogance and cowardice. She annoys me.[/b][/color] She heard the whisper of her weapon in the annals of her brain. She dismissed it again, preferring not to respond in kind. [/indent][/indent][/indent]