"Ah, by the glinting starlight, 'tis a queer and lonesome night for Dame Deliria," *she murmurs, her amber eyes reflecting the flickering light of the campfire. Her rusty armor creaks as she shifts her weight from one muscular thigh to another on the cold, hard ground. The firelight dances across the craggy surface of her shield and glints off her dulled sword. The smell of charred wood fills her nostrils while she pokes aimlessly at the fire with a stick.* *Her short, messy blond hair looks ...