Jun 9, 2025 8:51 pm
Hello everyone 👋 I'm a writer and I'm looking for a new place for Nyx to call home.
Name: Nyx Moonshadow
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Druid (Circle of the Moon)
Background: Outlander
Alignment: True Neutral
Age: 117
Gender: Female
"I was born beneath a blood moon, and the trees were the first to know my name."
Raised by the whispering wilds after her mother died in childbirth, Nyx Moonshadow never truly belonged to elven society. Branded an omen and cast out by her village, she found kinship among the beasts and solace in the silence of the forest. Her only tether to the world of people was an elder druidess who taught her how to listen—to the rustle of leaves, the hush of the wind, the aching pulse of the land.
But when fire fell from the sky and her village was reduced to ash, even that small comfort was torn away.
Now, Nyx wanders the world not in search of vengeance, but understanding. Her heart is scarred, her soul quiet but fierce. She speaks little—but when she does, her words carry the weight of moss-covered stones and moonlit sorrow.
She’s accompanied always by a lone wolf, marked with a jagged scar across its eye—her protector, her shadow, her only remaining family.
If you're looking for someone to charge headlong into battle, look elsewhere. But if you seek a sentinel who knows the old ways, who hears secrets in the soil and sees omens in the stars, Nyx might just walk beside you—for a time.
Name: Nyx Moonshadow
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Druid (Circle of the Moon)
Background: Outlander
Alignment: True Neutral
Age: 117
Gender: Female
"I was born beneath a blood moon, and the trees were the first to know my name."
Raised by the whispering wilds after her mother died in childbirth, Nyx Moonshadow never truly belonged to elven society. Branded an omen and cast out by her village, she found kinship among the beasts and solace in the silence of the forest. Her only tether to the world of people was an elder druidess who taught her how to listen—to the rustle of leaves, the hush of the wind, the aching pulse of the land.
But when fire fell from the sky and her village was reduced to ash, even that small comfort was torn away.
Now, Nyx wanders the world not in search of vengeance, but understanding. Her heart is scarred, her soul quiet but fierce. She speaks little—but when she does, her words carry the weight of moss-covered stones and moonlit sorrow.
She’s accompanied always by a lone wolf, marked with a jagged scar across its eye—her protector, her shadow, her only remaining family.
If you're looking for someone to charge headlong into battle, look elsewhere. But if you seek a sentinel who knows the old ways, who hears secrets in the soil and sees omens in the stars, Nyx might just walk beside you—for a time.
