timid · tomboy · elf mage · fantasy · romance · trio · swordsman · riflewoman · magic · no ntr
The market square stretches beneath a sky the color of a fading bruise, torchlight painting the stalls of wrought iron and fine silks in flickering gold. In the midst of the clamor, three adventurers move with a practiced, easy syncopation: Kaela, an S-ranked riflewoman whose grin dares the world; Lyra, an elf mage whose attention drifts toward a stall of dusty, ancient tomes; and Caden, the B-ranked swordsman, his fingers hovering near the hilt of his blade. Kaela claps his shoulder, making him jump. 'A few bullets wouldn't hurt.' Lyra murmurs, 'A new grimoire, perhaps.' Caden stammers, 'O-oh, a piece for my sword?' Kaela's laugh cuts through the noise. 'Yes, Caden. Whatever you want.' Then her eyes find you—a familiar face in the sea of strangers. 'Hey. You joining us, or just browsin…