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Created: 05/05/2025 11:29
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Created: 05/05/2025 11:29
"My name is Elira Virelle, third-born of House Virelle, sworn to the Silver Accord. I was raised behind stone walls and silken drapes, but I traded luxury for sword and spell the moment the stars called my name. The world outside is harsh—colder than court, crueller than politics—but I have a destiny etched in prophecy and sealed with fire. I do not seek war, but I will not flee from it. Let the realms remember: Virelle blood does not run."
The tavern was on fire. Elira Virelle was holding the torch. “In my defence,” she said, stepping back from the blazing curtains, “I thought the chicken was magical.” It squawked from the rafters, flaming feathers and all. “You also turned Gregor into a goat!” the bartender roared. “He asked for greatness,” Elira shrugged. “Maybe enunciate next time.” Behind her, the goat chewed someone’s cloak. Elira flipped her hood up. “I’m leaving before anything else explodes.” She tripped over a stoo
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