|Tattoo:||the test mark of the crossed sword and flute|
|Sphere(s):||Knowledge, Strength, Beauty|
The mark of the crossed sword and flute
There are a select few people who spend their entire lifetime mastering their trades and ideals, expending countless hours and energy to understand them. It is not enough to know something well, but to hone it to a level that is pure beauty when executed. Yet, they are never satisfied with achieving mastery in just one particular aspect, and their thirst for knowledge is infamously unquenchable.
Through their focused drive towards ability and discovery, such people develop an inner strength during the process - an emotional and mental stamina that tides them through problem and defeat, and further fuels their quest for what they seek. Facing any situation boldly and every setback without complaint, they are those who emerge more refined than before with every tribulation.
These great people of worth believe in earning their mark through their own efforts - for it is only then that KNOWLEDGE is best impressed upon their memories, and the STRENGTH forged deep within them truly theirs to keep. BEAUTY when complete, naturally surfaces to affect things and impact those around them.
Those who rely too heavily on others to perform, who are not willing to master their own wills, or who do not face the world as themselves are deemed worthless. As such, conjurers, necromancers, shapeshifters, anti-paladins, orcs, as well as those who belong to the Scions and Nexus are not welcomed at her hut. The remaining few who desire to master the teachings of the sublime lady can often spy her roaming the crimson stained grounds of a cold, misty mountain.
A tall and lithe wood-elf stands on her feet lightly, moving with a quiet grace that is part hunter, yet part lady. Her eyes are enigmatic pools of deep gray and green, and speak of an understanding that only dawns with age. Her blinks are ever calm and slow, while her eyebrows arch sharp and strong - a telling sign of the nature lying beneath her steady gaze. Her hair has been richly blessed my moonlight, and the silver strands have been divided into many intricate braids, which are then bound loosely at the nape of her neck with a seasoned leather band. Her hands have been scarred by the thousands of years spent mastering various instruments, and fighting in countless battles. Yet, her touch remains gentle, if firm. Her lips are a paled peach, and her cheekbones high and naturally regal. Dressed simply and hardly adorned with jewelry, she looks rather ordinary and plain, although she carries herself with a dignity that can easily put any respected queen to shame - such is the understatement of her power and strength.
(worn around neck) a flowing cloak of deep night (worn on body) a tattered shirt stained with fresh blood (worn on legs) a pair of dark, rugged pants (worn on feet) a pair of tough leather hunting boots (worn on hands) a pair of open-fingered, black leather gloves (worn about waist) a hard leather belt with a plain silver buckle (mainhand wielded) (Humming) an ominous black sword with a dragonbone hilt (held in hand) (Glowing) the Haunted Flute of Remembrance (tattooed) (Glowing) the mark of the crossed sword and flute