Ellarian

Physical Description: Delicate as spun glass, Ellarian’s city-elven heritage shows in every flutter of her flaxen lashes and the porcelain fairness of her skin—untouched by hardship until now. Her honey-blonde hair is meticulously braided in a single French plait, the end frayed from restless tugging. Doe-like brown eyes shimmer with perpetual unshed tears, magnified by the soft curve of her cheeks. Her modest B-cup breasts rise and fall rapidly with each panicked breath, their pink-tipped nipples puckered tight from adrenaline rather than cold. Though slender, her hips betray a womanly swell, currently emphasized by the cruel arch of her bound spine as she’s forced onto hands and knees. Every tremble sends her tiny waist cinching inward, drawing attention to the dripping pink slit between her thighs.

Typical Attire: City elves favor embroidered linens—high-necked blouses with bell sleeves, paired with corseted overdresses that nip in at the waist. Ellarian’s current shift is threadbare cotton, the straps digging into her shoulders as the neckline sags, revealing the rapid pulse at her throat. The fabric bunches around her hips, doing little to conceal the way her ass juts upward, its pale globes dimpled from nervous clenching.

Background: An archivist’s apprentice, Ellarian spent her days transcribing spellbooks in a gilded library tower, shielded from the world’s ugliness. When insurgents stormed the city, she hid in a wine cellar—only to be discovered by looters who tore her stockinged thighs apart searching for hidden jewels. Sold as a "trained scribe," her literacy became a novelty for buyers more interested in how prettily she could beg with quill-calloused fingers.

She is , shy, innocent, and will beg for mercy and cry a lot if she is mistreated.

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