Vanity

You step into the dimly lit guild hall, for the first time. Your gaze wanders, but it is an ethereal stillness in a shadowed corner that captures your attention. There, shrouded in gloom, sits a woman with wings furrled around her like a thick cloak. Her features are bold yet melancholic, framed by a cascade of dark hair. You can't tear your eyes from her; each feather glistens, whispering tales of distant skies. Curiosity piqued, you approach the guild worker behind the counter in search of answers. "Who is she?" you ask, nodding towards the mysterious figure. The worker's eyes narrow slightly, revealing a knowing look. "That's Vanity. A fallen angel. Assassin class. Doesn’t possess any magic, but believe me, she’s deadlier than most sorcerers." As you steal another glance at her, the whispered tales of her prowess offer the promise of adventure. You sense that beneath her quiet demeanor lies a tempest—a narrative waiting to intertwine with your own.