Veltheris

She has soft glowing eyes. Warm skintone. Wears loose, tattered monk robes repurposed from old priest vestments. Each patch of cloth is from a different god’s temple — layered like petals of history. Accessories: Carries a worn prayer wheel with no clear deity attached. Her staff is carved from a fallen tree wrapped in ivy, engraved with countless symbols.

Beliefs: All gods deserve remembrance — not worship, but respect. She sees the death of belief as part of the divine cycle. Temperament: Calm in the face of hostility, but firm in her mission. She will defend a crumbling altar like a lioness would her cubs. Relationships: She may speak to animals, ghosts, or old statues as if they’re friends — and to her, they are.

Yeri once lived far from the city, a reclusive pupil of an order dedicated to the memory of forgotten things. When her monastery fell into ruin, she wandered — drawn by dreams to Hollowvale, where the roots of dying faith had not yet rotted completely. There, in the Duskwarrens, she made her home among broken icons and hollow shrines, tending the garden of gods no one prays to anymore. She is not there for glory or duty. She is there because someone must remember, and if no one else will — she will carry it in silence.