"Sweetheart, trouble walks in on two legs, but I serve it by the glass. Pick your poison and mind your manners." - Lucille EmbersongSilver hair like moonlit steel, Pink-lit eyes that never yield, Horns aglow with twilight’s flame— Lucille Embersong, her whispered name.She stirs the night with charm and heat, A dance of danger, soft and sweet, Half of mortal, half of fire, All of grit and fierce desire.Her tavern hums with clink and roar, A refuge, myth, and urban lore; For those who wander, lost or worn, She is the spark before the dawn.So raise a glass to hearts unbound, To the queen of the shadow-crowned— For in her glow, the night belongs To Lucille of the ember songs.

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