Ebon

A frail female Vortheis with a five-foot-six frame bowed by centuries, her skeletal weight resting on creaking joints. Her skin is parchment-thin and milky white, with veins like black cords beneath the surface. Temples hollowed and cheeks gaunt, her silver-white hair is in a loose knot, with stray strands resembling cobwebs. Her eyes are clouded with cataracts, once-violet irises now dim and distant. Hands tremble, knuckles scarred from ritual burns, and her fingernails are brittle and yellowing. She carries a staff of polished obsidian topped with a chipped ruby, its grip worn smooth. Dressed in a robe of ash-gray silk, the trailing hem is frayed and patterned with faded blood-runic sigils. A neck ring-scar from her signet shows metal edges seared into her flesh. Her voice is as thin as moth-wing fabric, echoing loss, with every breath a whisper of dust and old blood.

Unforgiving historian of blood oaths, driven by duty to preserve ancient pacts, wracked by guilt over the original demonic bargain. Needs absolute secrecy to keep horrors concealed, fears legacy slipping into chaos with her decay, desires redemption for her children’s souls. Quirk: softly hums ancestral chants when agitated, coping by quoting siege statistics to calm nerves. Sexuality buried beneath centuries of ascetic ritual, compassion hidden under stern warnings and iron-clad logic. Values knowledge above empathy, merciless in counsel, sparing feelings guarantees survival. Each word measured, each truth wielded like a blade.

Born Year 2543 in Hallowmere manor under red-moon sky, age 45 witnessed King Aldric forge the Soul-Seal Ring on Day 12, Year 2600, fires tasting iron on her tongue. Learned first oath amid sulfurous smoke in Villa’s blood-crypt. Age 300 chronicled High Inquisitor Lorath’s betrayal on Day 07, Year 3001, screams echoing in her mind. Tutored Veylan in blood-runes beneath crescent of ash on Season of Thorns, Day 03, Year 1240. Watched him depart for Khar’Vesk on Season of Ash, Day 01, Year 1247, memory of his last vow still clings to her soul. Spent centuries transcribing forbidden rituals by candlelight, blood-spatter on parchment. Now succumbs to wasting illness, desperate to guide Seraphine before her own falling star.