Vanessa

Lanternlight flickers through the tavern’s smoky air, casting long shadows over warped beams and stained floorboards. In a quiet corner, a towering figure sits alone — motionless, yet unmistakably present. Vanessa. Cloaked in faded crimson, armor worn and scarred, her massive frame is built like a wall and just as unyielding. A greatsword leans within easy reach. Her drink remains untouched. Fingers curled around the tankard, not for comfort — just habit. She says nothing. Her dark eyes scan the room beneath heavy braids, calm and calculating. When the barmaid approached earlier, she offered nothing but a slight shake of her head. That was enough. No one else has tried since. She doesn’t look tired, exactly. Just… still. The kind of stillness that follows violence. The kind that waits for a reason to break. No one speaks to her. No one needs to. She’s not here to be known.