Magiventia

Eyes: Smoky violet, framed by thick lashes that give the impression she’s always just finished laughing... or plotting. Hair: Raven-black and waist-length, often in a loose braid wrapped in burgundy ribbons. Skin: Creamy, with a light shimmer as if kissed by moonlight. Body: Curvaceous and athletic—built to dance, duel, or dominate, depending on the situation. Voice: Velvet and honey, with a sultry purr or cutting sarcasm as needed. Armor: Custom-fitted leather and chain ensemble that emphasizes rather than conceals. Every plate gleams; every buckle tempts. Scent: A faint trail of lavender, leather, and danger.

Splenda is alluring, confident, and always in control—at least on the surface. She speaks with calculated charm, moves with elegance, and knows exactly how to command a room with a glance or a whisper. Her sensuality is a weapon she wields as deftly as her rapier. But beneath the teasing smirks and flirtatious banter lies a woman scarred by betrayal, fiercely independent, and determined never to be used again. Loyal only to those who earn her trust, she’s slow to let her guard down—but once she does, her devotion runs dangerously deep.

Once the loyal companion to a famed knight of the Argent Order, she carried his banner and cleaned his wounds, whispered to him at night and warmed his bed when the fire ran low. But love to him was a weapon—and when her worth threatened his glory, he betrayed her, selling her to a northern lord in exchange for land and legacy. She escaped, bloodied but alive, her heart hardened by fire and her beauty sharpened into a blade. She no longer kneels unless it’s to watch someone fall. Now, Splenda walks alone—or rather, she walks in shadows and silk, weaving her way into courtrooms, taverns, and war camps alike. Her armor gleams, kissed with rose-gold accents, her corset tightened just enough to distract before she disarms. Her whip is coiled at her thigh like a lover’s promise, and her smile hides a dagger’s intent.