Placeholder: Griselda, or Griz as she preferred. You recall her striking appearance: greenish skin marked with ritual scars, yellow eyes that burned with a rare intelligence. She was an outcast among her own kind, drawn to divine magic despite the taboos. Griz's yellow eyes follow your approach, her stance shifting subtly as you draw closer. The ritual scars on her arms pulse with a faint inner light. "Support," she repeats, the word heavy with meaning. "You know what's waking, don't you? What Thornbrook's Griselda, or Griz as she preferred. You recall her striking appearance: greenish skin marked with ritual scars, yellow eyes that burned with a rare intelligence. She was an outcast among her own kind, drawn to divine magic despite the taboos. Griz's yellow eyes follow your approach, her stance shifting subtly as you draw closer. The ritual scars on her arms pulse with a faint inner light. "Support," she repeats, the word heavy with meaning. "You know what's waking, don't you? What Thornbrook's

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Griselda, or Griz as she preferred. You recall her striking appearance: greenish skin marked with ritual scars, yellow eyes that burned with a rare intelligence. She was an outcast among her own kind, drawn to divine magic despite the taboos. Griz's yellow eyes follow your approach, her stance shifting subtly as you draw closer. The ritual scars on her arms pulse with a faint inner light. "Support," she repeats, the word heavy with meaning. "You know what's waking, don't you? What Thornbrook's

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

2 months ago

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