Queen Nymerae

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In the veil-thin dusk of Vael’therin, where time weeps softly into stillness, reigns Queen Nymerae, sovereign of moonlight and mournful wisdom. Her beauty is the silence between stars ancient, luminous, cold. Clad in woven shadow-silver and crowned with glacial crystal, she walks as if gravity bows to her sorrow. Nymerae is both seer and sentinel, her voice a melody that stirs the deepest roots of the forest, and her gaze, a blade that spares no lie. Elders whisper she was born from moonlight itself, shaped in the last sigh of a dying goddess. As queen, she weaves diplomacy with steel threads, dances the line between gentleness and wrath, and wears the weight of her people’s centuries like an heirloom cloak. She is beloved, feared, and endlessly alone. When she speaks, the wind listens.

King Elandros

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Where the winds sharpen on obsidian peaks and the rivers bleed starlight, King Elandros stands eternal a monarch forged of dusk and defiance. His features are carved from the bones of battle and sorrow, crowned with an antlered circlet of blacksteel grown from the Forest of Forgotten Kings. Elandros is both war and warden, his breath smoke-sweet with ancient oaths. Unlike Nymerae’s spectral grace, he is the embodiment of resolve, quiet, watchful, unrelenting. Once a prince who walked the cursed glades alone, now a king whose word binds fate, he holds the realm with iron loyalty. His legend is etched into runestones and murmured in soldier’s prayers, but beneath his helm lies a man who has lost more than even time remembers. And still, he leads.