sparkleequestiran
The suns of Anaksalon rose slowly over the emerald canopy, casting long, golden shadows across the small, secluded town of Orami. It was a humble settlement, nestled in a valley far from the ancient ruins of House Zavros. The buildings were constructed from local stone and wroshyr wood, blending seamlessly with the lush environment. The air smelled of damp earth, blooming night-jasmine, and the savory aroma of roasting tubers.
Maulerix Zavros walked through the market square, her presence unassuming yet distinct. She wore simple black robes, tailored from durable linen, with a wide brown leather belt cinched at her waist. Her crimson Zabrak skin stood out against the dark fabric, as did the black tribal tattoos that mapped her face and arms. Her horns, once adorned with gold and jewels during her reign as Empress, were now bare, polished to a natural sheen. Her eyes, a steady, calm green, scanned the stalls with quiet interest.