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Synthine

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  1. Synthine

    Synthine

    You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” Aylinne fidgeted nervously on the cushion, heart pounding as the crone's ancient gaze seemed to penetrate her very soul. The musty air inside the tent felt suffocating, and the young elf fought the urge to bolt back into the gloomy swamp. "I am Aylinne of Haelun'or," she began, her melodic voice scarcely audible. "Youngest daughter of a family fiercely devoted to the traditional ways." She paused, silver eyes dropping to her lap as painful memories surged forth. Her strict upbringing, the relentless pursuit of purity and superiority that consumed her childhood. The near-worship of the revered leader Kalenz and the old order he represented. It all came flooding back. "The conflict between the traditionalists and reformists in Haelun'or had a profound impact on my family," Aylinne murmured, voice strained. "My parents and older siblings became increasingly radicalized, their devotion to the old ways bordering on fanaticism. It shaped every aspect of my upbringing, isolating me from anyone who dared to question the status quo." Her slender fingers twisted the fabric of her tunic as she continued. "When the Silver State of Haelun'or declared war on the Cove of Nevaehlen, my family saw it as a righteous cause. My father and brothers eagerly joined the fight, believing they were defending our way of life. But as the war raged on, they supposedly fell one by one, never to return." Aylinne lifted her gaze, meeting the crone's eyes with a mixture of grief and shame. "The conquest and annexation of Nevaehlen brought no solace. With the reformation of the Silver Empire, my mother couldn't bear the weight of her loss and took her own life. I was left alone, an orphan haunted by the consequences of my family's unyielding beliefs." She fell silent, shoulders hunched as if expecting reproach. "In my desperation, I encountered the other races. Humans, dwarves, those I'd been taught were beneath me. But in my time of need, I found kindness among them. Compassion I'd never known growing up in the shadow of my family's extremism." "I don't know what to believe anymore," Aylinne whispered, eyes pleading as she awaited the hag's response. "The values I was raised with, the cause my family died for... it all feels hollow now. I am lost between two worlds, with no path to follow." The young elf trembled slightly, both fearing and craving any wisdom the ancient crone might offer to guide her through the storm of her fractured identity. For some reason I can't upload an image of my skin in the box, so it's attached below. The eel-cat can be uploaded though for some reason?
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