Lost Strings

In the smoky confines of the dimly lit tavern known as the Iron Emporium, the door swung open to reveal a figure that seemed almost out of place in the gritty, steampunk city. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the golden glow of the gas lamps, was an elven woman whose presence commanded attention. Tall and graceful, she wore a sleek, black dress that hugged her figure and hinted at the dangerous power she wielded. Her deep brown eyes sparkled with an almost magical light, and her raven hair cascaded in waves down her back.

Whispers filled the room as patrons turned to steal glances at her. It wasn’t just her beauty that drew attention, but the aura of enchantment that surrounded her. Birds perched on the windowsill outside chirped a melodic greeting, and even the hardened criminals at the bar seemed to sit a little straighter in her presence. This was Isabella, the mafia's newest enforcer.