Social Rank: 9
Concept: Crestfallen Squire
Fealty: Thrax
Family: None
Gender: female
Marital Status: single
Age: 18
Birthday: 6/13
Religion: Pantheon
Vocation: Squire
Height: average height
Hair Color: beige blond
Eye Color: amber-flecked green
Skintone: caucasian

Description: There is a steely, ineradicable hardness entrenched upon the thin; the doe-shaped, curled and lightly squinted gaze of this Thraxian, her eyes framed in a thicket of dark eyebrows and eyelashes naturally darker than the beige blonde of her hair's coppice. Its roots are even darker still, resembling a near-black much like that of said longbrows. Her features are shaped like a heart's romanticized curl, her nosebridge lightly crooked and scarred beneath some sort of fel blow that made it askew, its surface sodden and leathery. Her lips are rosy, meagerly plump and often dry; often crusty and made unfavorable by cold and heat alike.

What plumpness and stoutness once ran through her family has been attenuated beneath the life of hardship this woman has chosen to live; she's skinny - to a gaunt degree - and the leave of meat and fiber has left for a strained; an almost muscular capacity that outlined veins and bumps of lackadaisical thew spread thorough her fighting shape. Those hapless few remanded to see her bare, will find no short supply of flaws and scars marring her northern physique.

Personality: One needs not stare long to summarize the disposition of this here creature one gazes upon. That look that fosters little to no sympathy; that perpetual stringing of her lips that accentuates a lingering disdain. Elfriede has lived a grey and black life that has spared her a want to ever loosen the shell of her emotions to those that'd pry for them. When addressed, her words are monosyllabic and surgical; when amused, an unmannerly hum or hem may rise, and when brought to a conundrum of feelings she's much like a shelled creature, and will retreat into the quiet foreboding of her much-loved silence. And with it, reveal nothing.

She shows a fondness for wild creatures, and a predisposition to give in to her wanderlust when left to her own devices. She perceives violence as a natural rule of life, and takes part in it with nary a hint of pleasure, but a sense of dark, brooding duty.

Background: Born across a salty shore of Thraxian domain, for the longest of whiles; for the lengthiest passings of time as child, Elfriede only knew salt. And blood. She was peddled around as child like useful product when her known-parents were slaughtered beneath a raid after having survived many from a ship of black and crimson colors on a serpentine stretch for sigil. Too young to serve as an adult, yet too old to be flung into the sea as burden, she was raised in a kitchenette jury rigged together beneath the quarterdeck of a Thraxian boat. Made to wash, clean and rinse the dirt of sailors since she has known memory, with callouses to speak of it, when time begun to develop her the few remaining women in the ever-dwindling kitchen of the declining pirate coordination smuggled her back inland; back into the several holdfasts that stand at the feet of the Maelstrom.

Life in the Mourning Islands was hard. She no longer cleaned for anything other than herself, but food; but production and want for a thrall of so-few skills then made her a target - it made her a victim - and victimization became her life in such teen years while living in a society where the hope of end's meet came at the expense and compromise of her values. What few she had left.

Inevitably, violence returned to her life. And it did so in storm- she worked the streets as thief and eyes alike; she shared her perceptiveness with those that'd dare purchase it. Experience taught her the networked ecosystem of 'knowing' - and through this knowing she thrived as young as she was. In this life of humble burglary, she finally came upon a man; an old, hardy Knight born in the Oathlands. Happenings led them to strike an odd friendship, for none would dare claim they fit.

He called her squire. They travelled long, and left the lands of Thrax together to reach the capital under the care of this knightly old thing. Age took him from her not too short after arrival beneath the wary trip, and Elfriede now finds herself roaming the streets in search of purpose, like one too many.