Lady Lisica Clearlake
Art transcends borders.
A young Prodigal girl of 18, of medium height and lithe build.
Pale beyond fair, her skin is the flawless near-translucent of alabaster lilies. Thick pale strawberry blonde tendrils coil across her slight shoulders, the longest curls just touching the backs of her slender thighs when loose. Each and every turn and twist of hair shimmers and shines like polished rose gold, and here and there are braided in beads of various colors.
Lisica's huge eyes are the dreamy distant lavender of faraway mountains, encircled by brilliant silvery grey. They glitter in lash-shaded depths and lift delicately at the corners, raised by cheekbones like ledges on some savage peak. Her heart-shaped face is otherwise fragile looking, the curve of her jaw gentle, the sightly upturned nature of her nose soft, her finely shaped mouth a natural coral pink hiding pearly whites.
Around the delicate stem of her neck circles an achromatic tattoo, an intricate ghostly matrix of tiny mysterious figures swirling down her collarbone and beneath whatever she is wearing, down her left arm and leg, finishing at the back of her hand and bridge of foot.
Personality: Helplessly imaginative, Lisica has the heart to- and eye for seeing flowers in a blizzard, beauty in a battlefield, heartbreak in a broken cup. Even in a savage land of war and famine, there is a place for and need of creativity and inspiration. Unfortunately she is also prone to daydreams, and what might be a truly great idea becomes lost in rivulets of sparkling distraction.
Background: One of the ones chosen to represent the Jastvotn tribe ("Clearlake" in Arvani) to help foster relations with the Compact, Lisica's brother Sokonok was a natural leader, a bold and daring young man who had made a name for himself as a warrior of note. The decisive lightning bolt to his little sister's daydreaming sparkles, he was a testament to the power of their deceased warrior-hunter mother, Aurildis of the Battlefire. Unfortunately Sokonok and his group of loyal warriors never made it to the southern capital - only his lover, Risi, managed to make it back though they were dying from poisoned wounds, rambling of monsters and the Horned God and strange shadows, a heroic battle that ended in slaughter. Risi succumbed to their injuries, and out of nowhere a freak blizzard came in, erasing all tracks. The attempts to locate the scene of battle and recover the bodies were fruitless. Griefstruck, the clan nonetheless opted to send the little daydreaming sister onwards to Arx, as a living walking tribute to the bravery and sacrifice of her kin, and an effective challenge to whomever attacked them: Jastvotn stands defiant. The clan elders also hope that the mourning girl will become stronger as well, and perhaps this strange new land will help change the mountain flower into a steel blade.