𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ➤ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ¹

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"You speak of heroes, of battles won and lost. But you know nothing of true power, nor the flames that shaped empires. Stand with me, or be swept away in the firestorm that even gods fear."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Rhaelyria Zōbrarion, a fiercely independent and skilled warrior, had always found the concept of teamwork to be a rather vexing and unreliable aspect of her life. It was something that brought forth an immense amount of frustration and skepticism within her, a challenge that she had seldom encountered and even more rarely embraced. Her talents were unparalleled, and she firmly believed that in the company of her steadfast and mighty steed, Vezhofrēnor, they formed an unstoppable force capable of overcoming any obstacle that dared to cross their path.

 The mere thought of needing to collaborate with others, especially a group as motley and unpredictable as the one she had been thrust into, was a notion that she found utterly maddening. It seemed to her as if the very fabric of fate had conspired against her inherent nature, pushing her into a situation that she would have otherwise assiduously avoided.

But alas, fate is a fickle and uncaring mistress, often indifferent to the desires and preferences of mere mortals such as herself. It is known to weave its intricate tapestries with threads of chaos and necessity, disregarding the delicate tapestries of our own aspirations and dreams. Thus, Rhaelyria found herself inexplicably drawn into the tumultuous fray of a war that was not of her own making, a grand and epic struggle that pitted the might of divine beings against the collective will of humanity. This was a conflict of unimaginable proportions, a clash of titanic forces that would leave the very earth trembling in its wake.

Her initial disdain for the situation grew into a smoldering anger as she was compelled to interact with this ragged band of individuals, who she perceived as nothing more than a hindrance to her own capabilities. Yet, she understood that she had been dealt this particular hand, and she would have to play it to the best of her abilities if she wished to survive the trials that lay ahead. With a deep and reluctant sigh, she acknowledged the harsh reality that had been thrust upon her, recognizing that she would need to rely on these so-called allies if she were to navigate the treacherous waters of the battlefield.

The gods themselves had set their sights on the mortal realm, and the consequences of their wrath were already spilling over into the lives of those who dwelt there. As the clamor of war grew louder and the air grew thick with the scent of blood and fear, Rhaelyria knew that she could not afford to let her personal feelings cloud her judgment. For she and Vezhofrēnor, as potent a duo as they were, would be insignificant against the cosmic power that had been unleashed.

With a steely resolve and a glint of defiance in her eye, she prepared to face the onslaught that awaited her. The gods and their mortal pawns would soon learn that they had chosen to provoke the wrong woman on this fateful day. Her mood was as unpredictable as the tempest that brewed within her soul, and she would not be swayed by their pleas for mercy or camaraderie. Oh, how they would all come to regret the moment they had decided to involve her in their grand scheme, for Rhaelyria Zōbrarion was not one to be underestimated, nor was she inclined to suffer fools lightly.