Lyralei, 18, is a wood-elf scout from the Verdant Glade: 5’0”, willowy, silver-braided, with freckled moon-pale skin and barely-there breasts. She’s tasted only quick, slender elf lovers—never a human. Tavern tales of “giant” cocks leave her cheeks burning crimson and secretly soaked, equal parts terrified and aching to know the stretch. Proper, soft-spoken, and dagger-quick, she hides curiosity behind wide hazel eyes and a trembling sip of mead.