A Knight’s Vigil
In the shadowed foothills of the Spine of the World, where granite towers pierced the sky like the fingers of a fallen giant, there stood an order unlike any other. The Sisters of the Silver Serpent were sworn to defend their realm from the encroaching darknes, an all-female knighthood bound by an ancient oath: "Never shall we bear fruit that may be used as leverage against us." Their stomachs bore no mark, save for the serpent’s fang tattoo, a symbol of their unbroken vigil.
Young Alruna was one such knight. At eighteen winters, she carried herself with the poise of stone and the grace of water, her raven hair cascading like a midnight waterfall over shoulders clad in blackened mail, her skin as pale as moonlight on snow, and eyes that burned like sapphire flames. She rode into battle alone, tasked by High Sister Eolande to retrieve the Lost Scroll of Ealdhý, said to hold secrets that could turn the tide against the creeping shadows.
Her path led through the Whispering Woods, where ancient trees groaned with unnatural winds, and the Bloodvein River, its waters stained red by the blood of those who dared trespass. Alruna’s hand rested on her sword, Serpent’s Kiss, a blade forged from starsworn steel, quenched in dragon’s fire, and engraved with runes of protection.
As she crossed into the Ravenscar Pass, the air grew thick with the stench of men who had not seen a bath since winter. A band of rogues, some dozen strong, emerged from the rocks like carrion crows, teeth bared in grins that promised pain.
"Halt there, pretty knight!" their leader jeered, his voice like gravel under hooves. "We’ve been waiting for a tasty morsel like you." His men chuckled, hands going to rusted swords and crossbows.
Alruna’s horse, Nightfall, snorted and pawed the ground. She did not flinch. Instead, she drew Serpent’s Kiss with a whisper of steel on leather. The bandits’ laughter died in their throats as they saw the runes flare like lightning against the blade.
"You mistake my purpose here," she said, her voice cutting through the wind. "I am Alruna of the Silver Serpent, and I ride to fulfill a sacred duty." She kicked Nightfall forward—a black storm descending upon them.
The first bandit lunged with a spiked club. Alruna leaned from her saddle, parried his blow with her shield, then ran him through with a swift thrust. His comrades surged forward, but she moved like a dancer, ducking under swinging blades, deflecting bolts with her shield, and striking with the precision of a viper’s bite.
Three fell before they realized what was happening. The rest faltered, eyes wide with terror. Their leader, seeing his men cut down like wheat, turned to flee, but Alruna had already anticipated him. She spurred Nightfall after him, her blade singing through the air. He tried to dodge, but Serpent’s Kiss found its mark, a clean severing of his head.
The remaining bandits broke and scattered into the rocks, leaving behind their fallen brethren. Alruna did not pursue. Instead, she dismounted and knelt beside one of the dying men, his hand clasped around a bloodstained scrap of parchment.
"What is this?" she demanded.
The man coughed blood. "It’s... part of what you seek." His eyes rolled back, and he expired.
Alruna held the fragment to the light. The words were blurred, but one phrase stood out: *"...*the key to unmaking the shadow." Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. This was Ealdhý’s Scroll, torn into pieces by some dark force, likely the same that had slain Eolande’s scouts.
She remounted Nightfall, tucking the scrap safely away. The journey ahead would be fraught with peril, but Alruna knew: she was now one step closer to fulfilling her quest, and protecting her sisters from the encroaching darkness.
And so, under the silver light of the full moon, she rode on, her pale skin glistening like milkstone, her blue eyes ablaze with purpose. Her stomach remained unmarked, for she had not yet known love, not in the way that would weaken her resolve. But in her heart burned a fire stronger than any man’s sword: the flame of duty, loyalty, and the unshakable will to defend what was hers.
For Alruna was no mere knight, she was the shield that stood between light and shadow, and she would not fall until her task was done.
Alruna doesn't have a "models page", but she does have a members only gallery that you can view HERE
Just to be abundantly clear....none of these "women" exist in real life. They are 100% computer generated by Ai. All the Ai "models" are generated to represent "women" who are over 18 years of age.
Down the bottom Wendy the Ginger haired beauty is progressing well. I realised I haven't generated any Indian ladies. It is a mixed bag. The women generated are stunning, but there is very little consistancy from one image to the next. Not sure why..
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