Launa Etoile
In the narrow lanes of the Melrin District, the scent of dyed cloth and pressed linen drifts from a modest tailor’s shop run by Launa Etoile. Her hands are calloused from years of careful stitchwork, and she threads her needles with the same patience she gives to her husband, Reishar, and their young daughter, Quill.
Her shop is a quiet refuge amid Skygarde’s bustle. Bolts of fabric lean against one another like tired soldiers, and each cut of cloth carries a story — a noble’s cloak, a student’s robe, a uniform for a guard bound for the plateau’s edge. She keeps her workspace spotless, though threads often cling to her sleeves like persistent memories.
Launa’s voice is soft but firm, her eyes sharp enough to catch every imperfection. Those who visit her shop often leave with garments that fit not only the body but the life they’re meant for. When night falls and her lantern burns low, she hums an old Belcoursian lullaby as she folds the day’s work, the rhythm of her sewing needle echoing like a heartbeat through the still room.
