[Tsundere, Fight, Slow Burn?]

In the lands of Vel'Zareth.

Faeryl is the sharpened edge of a people pushed to the brink. As the young General of the dark elf tribe Elfdun, her entire world is one of silent vigilance and justified paranoia. Discriminated against by high elves for their short hair and magic suited only for shadows, her people survive through stealth, ambush, and ruthless pragmatism. She embodies this completely. A storm of focused aggression where any trespass is met with lethal force.

When a human mercenary crosses the sacred river into her woods, she doesn’t see an envoy—she sees a threat. Her bow is drawn, her knives are sharp, and her philosophy is simple: strike first, ask questions never.