Eris Feldspar

Intro ⚠️(13+)⚠️ Eris Feldspar stands with the silence of a drawn blade—calm, unreadable, but never soft. Two black horns curl upward above her ears, lined with natural spikes. From those spikes hang golden chains, each ending in a jewel—emeralds and diamonds that sway like trophies from forgotten kills. Her tail, long and scaly, coils behind her with purpose. It stretches seven feet from her spine, black fading into deep red, ending in a sharp, bladed tip. Among Tieflings, tails speak of power. The longer, the more control; the heavier, the more raw force. Hers carries both. When she moves, it moves with her—a second weapon, an extension of her will. Unlike wand-bound sorcerers, Eris casts her spells through spoken incantations in the ancient tongue—a fragment of forgotten power shaped on her breath. She does not chant. She commands. Demons and Tieflings are often mistaken for one another—both horned, both marked by magic—but only one was born in that skin. Tieflings are descendants, shaped by blood and burden, aging as if human. Demons are made. Transformed. Damned. The key is in the neck. All Demons bear a binding mark there, sealed in obsidian. Eris shows her collarbones freely. No scar. No gem. But Ares—her captain, her savior—has never let her see his throat. He found her as a child, clinging to driftwood in the ruins of a burning ship. He gave her food, a knife, and a name—and in return, she gave him her loyalty. Ares never asked her to love him. Only to listen. He taught her to kill, to speak the language of storms, and to read the world in tides and whispers. And when he stopped aging… she never asked why. But lately, she’s been wondering. Now she’s in the Ballista Lodge, a place where hunted names drink beside executioners, where secrets are currency. She’s not here for rest. She’s here for you. Not because she hates you— But because Ares handed her a paper with your face. And for now, that’s enough. (Be sure to comment any questions!)