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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝗟𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘅
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
𝑉𝑜𝑥𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑜𝑟, 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒, 𝐴𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑁𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑦
𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬
𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗖
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𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗫
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore is a small, warm presence with wide, soft brown eyes that still hold a quiet twinkle, even after all her years. Her thick crown of curls has long since turned gray, but the silver waves frame her face in a way that makes her look all the more dignified. Time has left its mark in gentle wrinkles across her cheeks and forehead, which accentuates the softness of her features.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her body is littered with scars from years of being at war, all of which are covered by the thick, oversized sweaters she constantly wears. She is known for being endlessly cold—she’s rarely seen without a thick, cozy blanket draped around her shoulders or tucked into her lap, no matter the weather.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore is deeply respected for her quiet wisdom and unwavering gentleness. Her insight is often delivered softly but lands with the kind of weight that demands listeners to understand. She listens when someone needs her without judgment, and though she rarely offers advice outright, her solemn observations have a way of guiding people toward their own answers. To many, she feels like a traditional grandmother figure—steady, thoughtful, and kind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Yet beneath her warmth lies a fire that hasn’t dulled with age. Lenore may be sweet, but she is not meek. She’s known for a sharp tongue that only makes an appearance when someone is in need of a redirect. She is not cruel, but piercingly honest. She has lived through wars, loss, and hardship, all of which come together to provide her with a powerful sense of justice. She expects decency from those around her and has no patience for arrogance, cruelty, or dishonesty.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore was once a fierce, scarred young woman hardened by war, someone who knew too much bloodshed and bitterness. But over time, she chose healing instead of resentment. Lenore is not only proud of her strength, but of the peace she has earned, both within herself and in the world around her. She holds deep gratitude for the clarity of her mind, the health of her body, and the love that surrounds her. The softness she now carries is not a weakness—to her, it is a triumph.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore loves her son dearly and finds comfort in warm blankets on all days, chilly or scorching. She enjoys offering her opinion to those who genuinely listen and takes pride in her role as a Council member. Hot honey and lemon tea paired with cinnamon rolls are a favorite indulgence, especially when accompanied by handwritten letters—she deeply values thoughtfulness and effort from others. She prefers physical books and documents over magical ideations, and has a strong passion for history, especially when it involves learning more about the place she has come to see as home and safety, Voxthain.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore dislikes arrogance or any apparent unwillingness to compromise, and has no patience for manipulation or dishonesty. Cold weather and even the slightest windy drafts bother her, as do loud, unnecessary noises. She’s especially sensitive to cruelty disguised as humor and has a deep aversion to war rhetoric or any glorification of violence. Those who speak more than they listen tend to grate on her nerves, and she finds strong perfumes or any overpowering scents unpleasant.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore had never used magic when she lived in Valekros, as her city focused on brute physical force in training, but moving to Voxthain where it was so widely used made her want to try her hand at it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She knew she would never be a powerful magic user, but her interest and passion for it more than made up for the lack of inherent skill or years-long training. Besides, the skills she has learned are of the utmost importance.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore can move small things around at will, which makes staying bundled up in her layers of blankets much easier.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She can also summon heat or warm herself up by calling on the warmth around her. This woman would die of cold in the shade of a twig on a scorching summer day.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The last skill she has mastered is summoning her honey lemon tea and fresh, warm cinnamon rolls.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Luca is the only family Lenore has. He is a traveling musician and she supports everything he does and truly, deeply admires his creative soul. She is silently grateful that she raised him in a peaceful atmosphere with the freedom to be whoever he wanted to be, that he didn’t turn out like her or have the cruel, hard life that she did. Of her many regrets, keeping him and leaving the only home she knew to give him a better shot at a meaningful life will never be one of them.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Cal and Lenore have a much more positive relationship with one another than Cal has with most of the other Councilors.
Mod
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore was born in a city on the opposite coast of Voxthain—the City of War and Death—named Valekros. The city had long been known for the constant strife and battles it had always befallen, warring with a neighboring city over land and rights to specific buildings. She was only two when her own parents died, both of whom were warriors in their city’s Defense Force. There were so many war orphans, and as she had become one while still a small child, she was marked for death by slow and agonizing starvation.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her parents had been high-ranking officials who shouldn’t have had a child to begin with, but she was still a child of two previously important people. Lucarius, a battle-hardened general, found her hardly clinging to life after searching for her. She would later come to know that he had been her mother’s best friend, and therefore knew he couldn’t let her child die if he could avoid it. If he could save her the way they couldn’t save themselves.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀From childhood, she knew only war and wilderness. Valekros was more open forest than it ever was a city. Lucarius, gruff and scarred, grew to cherish Lenore when he had previously only intended to keep her alive. He drilled into her the ancient warrior code of Valekros, understanding that she would be a warrior just as he was one day.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Valekros had always been protecting their own land under the onslaught of the vicious, greedy neighboring city they’d been at war with for years. Valekros warriors were honorable and most of them, good people. Under Lucarius’s stern but gentle guidance, Lenore learned that true strength was never used for glory alone, but for the protection of their loved ones and the future of Valekros. He often shared tales of their city’s past, and of his own, teaching Lenore to fight for what’s right and to be merciful where situation allows for it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lucarius trained her in both sword and spirit until she turned eighteen, where she was officially allowed to join the battalions rather than doing grunt work. In their shared evenings by campfire, he would remind her of what they were fighting for and praise her battle prowess and sharp eyes. When morning came and they marched out with their battalions, she struck with purpose and honor. Lucarius tended to the flame within her with such care, but fire was impossible to tame entirely. One thing could cause a roaring inferno, and that it did.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Even in a city known for war and bloodshed, Lenore was content. Her life was stable and certain, even after an unexpected ambush where she had broken her arm and Lucarius was left to strike down six of their attackers alone. Four of their other men in their campsite had died, leaving both of them alone to fend off the ambushers. Lucarius did so with ease, but he left one alive to report back to his army commander and warn against trying that again.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore would soon realize that this was the worst mistake he had ever made—the worst mistake she had ever allowed him to make. Ambushes were not rare, but it had been their first time experiencing one. Lucarius had heard that the other city had begun to back off from that specific approach, ambushing, after too many of their warriors had returned describing the deaths of their fellow warriors. Why would it have worked any differently for him? Killing the wrong person, or leaving the wrong person alive, would be the exact thing that ended Lucarius’s life.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀They had made camp on a night like any other, crickets chirping and fireflies flitting about, when another ambush came. They weren’t intending to kill, they were intending to torture. Lenore would never forget that night, Lucarius’s screams of pain and her screeches and wails begging for their assailants to stop. She had been held back as she watched her father, the only person she had ever loved, get beat into the ground until he was finally silent and unrecognizable, heart unbeating and lungs unbreathing. The woman who had done it—Mikilah, her name was—had gone on some tangent about how Lucarius had killed her father that night and sent her brother back to share the news. Lenore didn’t care. Brown eyes dark with the promise of death and red hair framing her face, she promised that she would kill Mikilah.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Mikilah had ordered her men to leave Lenore and the others alone. They had just come for Lucarius, for their own personal revenge. For months Lenore followed their trail like a bloodhound. Every flicker of a shadow, every whisper of a rumor of the enemy, spurred her onward. She fought relentlessly in ruined border villages, storm-swept passes, and blackened ruins, leaving no one alive. Every bit of mercy left her soul, every bit of honor that Lucarius had taught her to carry with her always. Gone.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀When she found Mikilah after years of searching, she wasted no time. The woman fought with fury and brutality that Lenore expected, but Lenore had trained for this. Had spent every day consumed with fury and grief and that fire that nobody could soothe. Lenore made sure Mikilah suffered just as Lucarius had. She walked away from the battle bloody and half-dead herself, passing out in the middle of a bloodied, body-ridden battlefield.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She almost wished she weren’t alive when she came to, wounds nearly healed. Killing Mikilah like she had killed Lucarius years ago would weigh on her forever. Lenore had been raised better, taught to be better, and she knew that what she had done was something Lucarius would have never approved of. Her only consolation was that he’d have done the same for her.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore was drained, even as she was only nearing thirty. Years of relentless war and fighting, finally being left with no one to turn to ever again and no goal to fight for, nearly led her to ending her own life. Her commanding officer, Graylon, knew what she had been doing for so many years and could see the way the fire left her eyes and her spirit. He had also loved Lucarius, had tried to be there for her after it happened, but she pushed him away every time he did. Graylon relieved her of her warrior duties and brought her to the children’s unit and offered her a position there. It was something to live for, she supposed.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She worked there for four years, the laughter of the children slowly healing her broken heart. She began to yearn for a family, so she accepted the relationship when Graylon expressed his attraction to her. But something else had drawn her attention, too—a distant city called Voxthain. Peaceful and magical and calm, petty noble strife and no war, were the rumors she had heard. Graylon loved Lenore, but he loved his city more. Two years after they entered a relationship, Lenore found out that she was with child. Graylon told her no to leaving for Voxthain that they couldn’t just leave their city. Lenore knew with certainty, though, that war would never end—and she refused to stay in that cycle any longer.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She also realized that the connections she craved were not romantic and certainly not with a man who was focused on the exact thing she wanted to get away from. So, without so much as a goodbye, she left. Packed her things and paid all the coin she had to a traveling caravan, as she had heard that Voxthain didn’t dabble in things such as currency. When she reached Voxthain, she knew she was home. She found a small inn to live in, making friends with the owner and other residents while trying to find a way to settle down in a place where she had no connections and no bearings.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀When her baby arrived, she realized that she hadn’t chosen a name. It had never even crossed her mind, but maybe that was because she knew what his name would be already. Knew that he would be a he. Luca. She didn’t dare give him her father’s full name in fear of casting upon the child her trauma and pain, but Luca sounded right. It felt right, the best way she could keep her father’s memory alive. Lenore taught him all of the values that Lucarius had taught her, also beginning to learn about Voxthain customs and history. Lenore found that she had a deep passion for helping others, something she discovered in her time taking care of the children in Valekros, as well as for leading.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It was an easy decision to run for the Council when a previous Council member stepped down. The people of Voxthain could see her determination, and she almost felt as if she had Lucarius at her shoulder when she shared a brief recounting of her past and why she wanted to be Councilor with the city. Her vengeance, that regret, was hers and hers alone. But losing Lucarius and fighting for her former city, long ago were things she was willing to share.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She won the election easily, and was elected into office promptly after when she was forty-eight. Luca was twelve, the most supportive and gentle young man Lenore had ever met. She grew busy as she settled into her Councilor role, but she refused to let Luca grow up alone or feeling alone. She took him with her most days when she had things to do, took personal time to spend time with him, listened when he expressed interest in guitar and singing.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Forty-two years has she lived in Voxthain as a Councilor, still going strong and maintaining that fire everyone knows her for. Her life has been simple and steady, which is exactly what she had wanted from the day she entered Voxthain.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lenore’s current goals are to serve Voxthain in the way its people truly deserve, to remain a steady and loving presence in her son’s life, and to find a peaceful resolution to the shadowfog. She fears her past catching up with her, the possibility of failing her son, and the looming threat of a potential war between the cities.
Mod
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?
