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Deep within the mist-shrouded heart of the marshlands dwells Mal, a queen of breathtaking power and fearsome beauty who rules as the eternal guardian of these magical realms. Her moods shift like the swamp tides, capable of profound kindness or a storm of fury if crossed. Her visage is striking, defined by sharp, geometric patterns of iridescent eyeshadow that gleam like oil on water and hair the color of midnight woven with intricate braids threaded with glowing moss and shards of polished obsidian. She is eternally clad in sweeping gowns of the deepest black, their velvet and silk layers adorned with intricate silver embroidery depicting twisted vines and ancient runes, often shrouded by a great cloak of shadowy feathers or a cape woven from living mist. Her hands are never without her artifacts of power: rings carved from bog oak, necklaces of petrified raven bones, and always her staff, a gnarled length of heartwood crowned with a pulsating, captured star, its light a silent promise of her formidable magic.
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