Leenhva O'braites

Leenhva O'Braites + NSFW (32mm, 75mm,100mm), sliced.

Moonlight glinted off the hundreds of coins stitched into Leenhva's weathered corset as she strode across the blood-slick deck, her massive zweihander resting effortlessly on one shoulder. The so-called "Pirate Princess" wore no armor—just the scars of a hundred battles and the trophies of those foolish enough to challenge her: finger bones clattering in her braided hair, a corsair's eyepatch nailed to her belt, and the tattered standards of sunk ships fluttering from her boots like gruesome ribbons. When she swung that blackened greatsword, it wasn't steel that sang—it was the wailing ghosts of every man she'd sent to the locker.

They said her coin-gilded coat was worth a king's ransom, but none dared try taking it. Not after the incident at Blackshell Cove, where she'd cleaved three would-be thieves in half with a single stroke, their stolen doubloons still clutched in twitching hands. Leenhva fought as if possessed—maybe she was. The golden eyes under her salt-crusted brow burned with something older than piracy, something that made even veteran cutthroats whisper prayers when her laughter echoed through the fog. By dawn, she'd be gone, leaving only a trail of spent musket balls and the lingering stench of gunpowder... along with one less ship on the horizon.