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a hauntingly beautiful yet grotesque photorealistic portrait of a blonde woman, her porcelain skin streaked with glistening rivulets of fresh blood that drip from her chin and matted hair. A deep, freshly carved pentagram glistens wetly on her forehead, its edges ragged as if etched by frantic fingers. Her eyes are peacefully closed, lashes clumped with dark stains, while her primary mouth curls into a serene, almost beatific smile—a stark contrast to the horrors flanking it. Both cheeks are torn open like grotesque blossoms, revealing gaping secondary mouths lined with jagged, uneven teeth, their lips pulled back in silent screams that seem to vibrate with unseen agony. Her neck and upper chest are a raw, pulsing landscape of exposed muscle and sinew, glistening under the cinematic chiaroscuro lighting that casts dramatic shadows across her ruined flesh. The background is an inky void, swirling with faint, ghostly tendrils of mist, amplifying the macabre elegance of her suffering. Every detail—from the dewdrop sheen on her wounds to the way light catches the uneven edges of her torn skin—is rendered with hyper-realistic precision, making the horror feel unnervingly tangible.
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Vispania scoffed and looked away for a moment, her hands on her hips. As she turned her gaze back towards them, she laughed sadly and almost crazily, strings of red hair still falling down before her face, “That’s right?” She said with great anger, her blue eyes wide on her freckled face and when she spoke, she spout out so much air that the hair present was blown up. Her pointed nose was sharp and looked like she was about to attack with it, her high cheekbones were huffing, her visage was one of anger. Her blue dark robe swayed violently when she spoke too, “Well, it just so happens that Grimmer is the traitor he has turned you against us!” She said bending slowly towards Forothil who held his nerves and remained unmoving.
Recycle today, renew tomorrow (write the slogan on the art)
joe biden fighting the old man make it like a comic fight
LINDA – THE FOX-EYED

Age: Around 25–26 years

Appearance:

    A face with fine but lively features – always as if about to smile.

    Eyes – bright, golden-amber, slightly elongated, almond-shaped – fox eyes. In the dark, a faint golden glint.

    Hair – chestnut or dark blonde, always tied in a ponytail or braided. A few strands always fall over her face.

    On her cheek – a small dimple that appears when she smiles.

Nose – "fox sense":

    Can smell a person from a hundred paces.

    Detects fear, illness, blood, what someone ate hours ago, whether someone passed through an area.

    Strong, unpleasant smells affect her heavily – headaches, nausea.

Build: Average height, slender, wiry – built for speed and agility.

Clothing and Gear:

    Long black cloak with a hood – reaching just below the knees, light, sturdy fabric, does not rustle.

    Under the cloak – light leather armor, dark brown, almost black, worn from use.

    Trousers of thick wool or soft leather, wide, tucked into boots.

    Boots – low, soft, with thin soles for silent movement.

    On her belt – quiver, a small hunting knife, a leather pouch with flint and other supplies.

Bow:

    Made of yew wood – light, resilient, flexible.

    As tall as she is; she carries it across her back.

    She makes her own arrows – from birch wood, with goose or falcon feathers, iron tips.

Past:

    Born in a small village at the foot of the mountains.

    As a child, she was considered "strange" – her eyes glowed in the dark, she could smell lies, she knew things before they happened.

    When sickness came to the village, she realized it came from the well. The elders did not believe her.

    They accused her of being cursed. A mob gathered at her house.

    Her father protected her, but she was banished forever. He gave her his bow and said: "Go, child. Do not return."

    She lived alone in the forest for years.

How She Joined:

    She tracked Borin out of curiosity. She followed him for three days.

    He noticed her, left her food, and did not chase her away.

    She chose to stay on her own.

Personality:

    The funniest member of the company – always joking, mocking nearly everything.

    Jokes to keep from crying – hides her pain behind laughter.

    Beneath the humor hides a deep wound from her banishment.

    Fiercely loyal – once she loves someone, she will defend them with everything she has.

    A child in a woman's body – playful, curious, sometimes misunderstood.

Skills:

    The finest hunter and tracker.

    Can move unseen anywhere.

    Shoots fast and true – can hit a coin from fifty paces.

    Knows herbs, mushrooms, animals – what is edible, what heals, what kills.

Relations with Others:

    Borin: Sees him as a father, even though she teases him.

    Garret: Teases him the most, but deeply respects him.

    Kieran: The first to make him laugh after heavy memories.

    Hedin: Finds him strange, but tolerates him.

    Finn: Treats him like a younger brother – protects him, teases him, teaches him.
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No response from anyone. They were all content to let him talk. The more he talked the better, perhaps he would loose something unexpected.
	“Well,” the wizard said, deciding that either they were waiting for him to say something he would regret or that they were too much at a loss for words, “I will play into this. I have been bored for some time after all. Tell me Eshvar, I was very surprised when you survived. I heard that your friends were in the region and then I sent skeletons to harass them. But I did not fully engage in war, I instead waited for you and truly. You came with an ice gumental running behind you, I contained you and wanted to wipe you out. But you keep surviving. You are like a fish that is in a box, I pick it up to take it for cooking, but it manages to wriggle from my weak grip—it is so very slippery.”
	Eshvar scoffed.
	“Do not do,” Balhar imitated Eshvar’s scoff, although his face did not move, his voice made a similar noise, “You should remember Eshvar. You are only alive right now because I did not finish you. I thought the poison would finish you off, you are alive as a result of either carelessness or luck. You have no power to resist me, not even in the midst of all these friends you have come back with.”
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