Jae

The faint glimmer of hope Jaelynn carried after finding the Aursteel began to wane as she pushed deeper into the forgotten mine. The bioluminescent fungi on the walls, once comforting with their soft, ethereal glow, seemed dimmer now, as though the mine itself was mocking her persistence. Her emerald eyes scanned every crevice and shadow, but the uneven stone walls offered only disappointment—a blank canvas where treasure should be hidden. She crouched near a jagged crack in the floor, the chill of the damp stone biting through the thin leather of her gloves. Her fingers traced the outline of

Jaelynn’s journey toward the Forgotten Mine began beneath the golden light of morning, the sun’s rays breaking through the thinning canopy of the Second Floor’s forest. The world was quiet save for the crunch of her boots against the loamy trail and the distant murmur of wind weaving through the trees. Shadows stretched long and languid over the path, painted in hues of green and amber. At the teleport gate, the brilliant hum of magic enveloped her. It shimmered and pulsed, a living heartbeat, before whisking her away. The world fragmented for a breath, a kaleidoscope of color and light, and w

Emerald vision in a world of dusk Her descent from the branches of her secluded hollow was a delicate dance of balance and precision. The first rays of dawn hadn’t yet kissed the treetops, leaving the forest shrouded in deep blue shadow. Her boots met the mossy ground with a muted thud, the air cool and thick with the scent of damp earth. She adjusted the strap of her satchel, and began her trek toward the teleport gate. The journey to the First Floor was uneventful, the twisting paths of the Second Floor’s forest eerily silent. The occasional rustle in the underbrush sent her heart racin

The forest at night was a creature unto itself, its silence broken by the low hum of nocturnal life. Jaelynn stirred, the rough bark of the pine pressing against her back, her perch swaying slightly with the wind’s passing breath. Her eyelids fluttered open to a sky fractured by branches, stars peeking through like hesitant voyeurs. It was not the gentle pull of sleep that woke her but an instinct, a whisper in her mind sharper than sound. Danger lingered in the stillness, unseen but tangible. She exhaled softly, her breath a fleeting mist in the frigid air. The cloak wrapped around her should

The pale-eyed prowler’s gaze flicked upward, the slight shift in the air too subtle to ignore. Someone was approaching—no footsteps, no telltale signs, just a presence that seemed to fill the space between the quiet hum of the town. She didn’t have to look directly to sense it. She kept her eyes fixed on the dusty road ahead, pretending not to notice the figure slowly drawing closer. Her posture remained relaxed, but her fingers flexed, the tension in her hand a quiet readiness that only she could feel. The wind shifted, and with it, a soft rustle of fabric. A quiet step—no clatter of armor, n

As the afternoon light bled slowly into the bruised hues of evening, Jaelynn found herself once again in the heart of Tolbana. The town seemed to breathe with a different rhythm now, a quiet hum that whispered secrets of forgotten corners and abandoned things. The market stalls had begun to shutter, their vibrant colors fading to muted tones beneath the oncoming shadow of dusk. The noise of bustling vendors and customers was replaced by the distant murmur of a few remaining stragglers, their voices lingering in the cool air like stray notes in an unfinished song. As the afternoon li

The failure of the morning hung over Jaelynn like a storm cloud, trailing her steps as she pushed deeper into the wilderness beyond Tolbana. She clung to the mountain’s edge now, the land sloping steeply away beneath her boots. Here, where the ground was less forgiving, the forest thinned and gave way to jagged outcroppings of stone. The air was colder, sharper, cutting against her skin with every gust of wind. The whistle of it through the rocks sounded like some mournful lament, and Jaelynn couldn’t help but feel the world itself was mocking her perseverance. She adjusted the weight of the p

The morning light broke over Tolbana like a hesitant promise, gilding the edges of rooftops and scattering golden coins across the streets below. Jaelynn, already far from the town’s waking bustle, moved with the silent purpose of a predator through the outskirts, where untamed nature lapped at the fringes of civilization. The weight of the blacksmith’s challenge hung in her chest like an anvil—a thing too heavy to carry yet impossible to set down. Her boots crunched over frost-tipped grass, a muted rhythm that matched the cadence of her thoughts. This wasn’t her first attempt at scavengi

The forge's heavy door creaked on weary hinges, groaning like an old sentinel reluctant to admit visitors. As Jaelynn pushed it open, a wave of smoke and the sharp tang of molten metal spilled into the cool, forgiving air outside. Inside, the heat enveloped her like a living thing, suffocating and immediate, pressing against her skin in unwelcome intimacy. Each strike of the hammer on the anvil cast out a spray of sparks that flickered like fleeting stars, swallowed quickly by the murky haze. At the center of this inferno, a man worked with singular focus. The forge’s glow painted his face in

Dawn filtered through the towering pines, painting the grove in amber and gold. The first breath of morning was brisk, sharp against her lungs, yet invigorating—a reminder that, even here in Aincrad, there was no reprieve from life’s demands. Jaelynn rose with the sun, her body already moving before her mind had a chance to settle, as though still tethered to the routines that had once defined her fragmented existence. Beneath the canopy of trees, she set to work. The world around her was quiet, save for the rustle of branches and the occasional call of distant birds, but her focus dulled all

The morning light spilled over the horizon like spilled ink, dark but bright with promise. Dawn’s first rays threaded through the canopy above, caressing her face with soft fingers of warmth, reminding her of the world beyond. For a moment, the stillness held her—no demands, no questions—just the wind whispering through the trees, the quiet hum of the earth beneath, and the steady beat of her own heart. A slow, deep breath filled her lungs, cool and untouched by the bustle of cities or the noise of others. The world beyond her small shelter could wait. She had learned long ago that peace was f

The world of Aincrad, so meticulously crafted, held its pockets of chaos and order. Floor 2 was no exception, its rugged terrain and sparse settlements offering as much peril as it did refuge. And on its outer fringes, Marome Village nestled itself like a forgotten seed in the shadow of towering mountains, its moated fortress looming over the rolling fields like a weary guardian. Jaelynn’s “home” lay beyond the reach of civilization's warmth. It wasn’t a house by any definition—a makeshift canopy of weathered cloth stretched taut over a sturdy pine branch, a refuge hidden high within the

Morning broke over Tolbana, spilling sunlight across the cobblestones in lazy golden pools. The first floor of Aincrad stirred to life like a painting come alive, its colors too vivid to be real. Jae moved through the streets in quiet rhythm, her black cloak a ripple of shadow against the bright tapestry of the town. The hem of the fabric whispered secrets to the stones as she passed, her steps deliberate, unhurried, the weight of solitude hanging around her like armor. The town buzzed with life, voices weaving together in a chorus of bartering and banter. Shops spilled their wares onto t

The Witcher - Ciri - Jaelynn

NAME Rika "Jaelynn" Okamiya AGE 17>>19 GENDER Female HEIGHT 5'4 (162.5cm) WEIGHT 52kg BIRTHDAY 20/5 ORIGIN Nagano, Japan Jae "Survival isn’t pretty, and neither am I when it counts." -- Rika "Jaelynn" Okamiya Her skin, pale as winter’s first frost, held an almost luminous quality, as if the moonlight had kissed her and refused to let go. The faintest constellation of scars