Seraphyne Dusksong

She walks the night-veiled streets of Baldur's Gate, with the stillness of prophecy, as she passes by a graveyard. Her braid, bound with iron and jet, sways like a mourning banner behind her—each step measured, each shadow drawn to her presence. The armor she wears bears the touch of ages: etched with broken wings, dulled by silence, guarded by a raven’s gaze. Nothing clinks. Nothing echoes. The blade at her back rests like a buried truth—Silence Repaid, its name unspoken yet understood.