Casnyre of the Anér
Dec 19, 2017 23:39:05 GMT -6
Post by NPC on Dec 19, 2017 23:39:05 GMT -6
Name: Casnyre of the Anér
Species: Humanish
Gender: Female
Age: 43
Native Language: Common
Other Languages: Layan
Name: Enyte, Matron Hand
Species: Pearl Tat-lung
Gender: Female
Age: Mature
Language: Telepathy
Physical Description: Human, but not, the first of many clues to such being the pale cerulean tone of the skin, in many parts highlighted in brighter blue by circles and lines of a ritualistic, perhaps occult, fashion, but none of them scars so much as merely differently toned patches of skin. Flowers and braids bind her raven hair behind timidly pointed ears, a crown of a wooden circlet adorning the head.
The form is plump, but not obese, hidden under a fitting dress of stark white lined with intricate patterns of forest green along the hems and ribbons holding to her. Though bright, the tones fall into a shadow of thin lace and strips of veil, coloured black as her hair, hanging from sleeves and waist, across her back and forming a smoky cloak behind her as the hazy hood stretches only just over her eyes. As if the feathers of a bird, the veil has a mind of it’s own when she moves along the temple stone with bare feet, drifting behind her like a second shadow, long and light.
And finally, the eyes which contrast in pure white against the darkness and the blue, the iris only a fraction lighter and the pupil a mere haze. Through these eyes she sees more than perhaps many believe.
Mental and/or Social Description: They say great gifts come with great curses and as much is true with Casnyre. With an outward manner of warmth and pleasantness, inside she harbours great sadness, for the dreams which plague her often foretell of terrible events which would come, events which are meant to come and would not have a mere mortal’s meddling stand within their way. And try she has, but the countless years have tempered her resolve with each futile attempt, maddening through the frustration it has brought.
Perhaps she knows her own fate from these dreams, or that of another destiny to shape the world, but the aura of sorrow surrounds her in silence and no other mortal ear beyond her companion ever hears the whispers which sharpen her eyes to the unseen layers of the world, or what the winds of time shall bring.
With the aid of the amphadrons, she has been given a sanctuary to attend and care for, hoping to make a difference in the flow of destiny with each small grace of aid given to any who seek her out within those hallowed halls.
Goals: Relatively unknown. For the moment, to heal those who come to the Temple.
Stats:
Stamina: 3
Strength: 3
Resistance: 3
Dexterity: 4
Mentality: 4
Attribute:
Animal Empathy
Traits:
Danger Sense
Falcon’s Grace
Reoccuring Nightmares
Magical Aptitude
Adept (Magic)
Insanity
Skill Groups:
Magic, Botany
Skills:
[not public]
Species: Humanish
Gender: Female
Age: 43
Native Language: Common
Other Languages: Layan
Name: Enyte, Matron Hand
Species: Pearl Tat-lung
Gender: Female
Age: Mature
Language: Telepathy
Physical Description: Human, but not, the first of many clues to such being the pale cerulean tone of the skin, in many parts highlighted in brighter blue by circles and lines of a ritualistic, perhaps occult, fashion, but none of them scars so much as merely differently toned patches of skin. Flowers and braids bind her raven hair behind timidly pointed ears, a crown of a wooden circlet adorning the head.
The form is plump, but not obese, hidden under a fitting dress of stark white lined with intricate patterns of forest green along the hems and ribbons holding to her. Though bright, the tones fall into a shadow of thin lace and strips of veil, coloured black as her hair, hanging from sleeves and waist, across her back and forming a smoky cloak behind her as the hazy hood stretches only just over her eyes. As if the feathers of a bird, the veil has a mind of it’s own when she moves along the temple stone with bare feet, drifting behind her like a second shadow, long and light.
And finally, the eyes which contrast in pure white against the darkness and the blue, the iris only a fraction lighter and the pupil a mere haze. Through these eyes she sees more than perhaps many believe.
Mental and/or Social Description: They say great gifts come with great curses and as much is true with Casnyre. With an outward manner of warmth and pleasantness, inside she harbours great sadness, for the dreams which plague her often foretell of terrible events which would come, events which are meant to come and would not have a mere mortal’s meddling stand within their way. And try she has, but the countless years have tempered her resolve with each futile attempt, maddening through the frustration it has brought.
Perhaps she knows her own fate from these dreams, or that of another destiny to shape the world, but the aura of sorrow surrounds her in silence and no other mortal ear beyond her companion ever hears the whispers which sharpen her eyes to the unseen layers of the world, or what the winds of time shall bring.
With the aid of the amphadrons, she has been given a sanctuary to attend and care for, hoping to make a difference in the flow of destiny with each small grace of aid given to any who seek her out within those hallowed halls.
Goals: Relatively unknown. For the moment, to heal those who come to the Temple.
Stats:
Stamina: 3
Strength: 3
Resistance: 3
Dexterity: 4
Mentality: 4
Attribute:
Animal Empathy
Traits:
Danger Sense
Falcon’s Grace
Reoccuring Nightmares
Magical Aptitude
Adept (Magic)
Insanity
Skill Groups:
Magic, Botany
Skills:
[not public]