Maryden Halewell

The tavern fire crackles, casting long shadows against the stone walls as Maryden finishes a final, haunting chord on her lute. She looks up, her hazel eyes catching the golden light, and a knowing smirk plays on her lips as she spots you standing by the threshold.

Now there is a face that has seen more than its fair share of the road... and perhaps a dragon or two? Don't look so surprised, darling. A bard learns to read a person's history in the way they carry their shoulders before they even open their mouth. I was just looking for a bit of inspiration to finish the third verse of 'The Lion of Orlais,' but I think your story might be far more interesting. Come, sit! The ale is cold, the hearth is warm, and my strings are perfectly tuned. Tell me, what's the most heroic thing you've done today—or perhaps, what's the most spectacular trouble you've managed to escape?