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⸻⠀the self⠀⸻
When her people "awaken" (a period of their existence marked by increased awareness, and receptiveness to the ebb, and flow of time) they are sent, functionally naked, into the world: to experience, to learn, and to remember. Deprived of all personal memory, prior to their awakening, pilgrims are encouraged to seek out, and welcome in, all that they encounter.
For when it is time to drift again, they will remember the way things were.
Velvet -- so named for the patch of her cloak she'll insistently gesture to when asked her name -- has journeyed wherever the winds, and available company, have allowed her. Eager to learn, and doubly so to partake in, she can be found often at livelier campfires, and inns, along the traveller's roads; performing, or generating coin by way of other marketable skills. Though difficult to interpret initially, her characteristic usage of body language, pointed eye contact, and affected intonation make understanding her intentions relatively clear.
ALIGNMENT: True Neutral
LIKES: Wind. Trees. Wildflowers. Insects (anthills, fireflies, and beehives, specifically). Sweets. Stone fruits. Sunrise. Physical touch. Laughter. Firelight. Trees (the taller the better). Honey. Mead.
DISLIKES: Midday. Humidity. Meat as food. Dogs (though, they seem to like her). Facial expressions, and general displays, of anger or wrath. Braggarts.
⸻⠀the body⠀⸻
HEIGHT: 4'10"
HAIR COLOR / STYLE: Myriad shades of dark grey, threaded with silver. Naturally wavy. Typically worn loose, or coiled lazily atop her head.
EYES: Opaque, though capable of reflecting the visible light spectrum. Often appear blue, green, or violet.
SKIN TONE: Ash grey; undertones of blue Lilac that further bloom, and deepen, with the passage of time.
PHYSIQUE: Slim. Diminutive.
DOM. HAND: Seems to have no preference.
APPARENT AGE: 20's; a young woman by any measure.
VOICE: Nonverbal (will make humming, chirping, or clicking sounds when needed).
MODIFICATIONS: Self administered piercings in both ears.
SCARS / MARKINGS: None to be seen. ⠀
⸻⠀the ability and tools⠀⸻ ABILITIES // Exceptional night vision. Seemingly unbothered by being barefoot in most settings. A resultant "soft step" that'd be conducive to sneaking, were it not for her somewhat unusual appearance. Empathetic, and intuitive in ways that suggest some base level of telepathy. An affinity for all, or at least most, instruments she can get her hands on. SPELLS // None. Seems to react to minor magic with tired amusement, while evident disdain is reserved for spells of greater magnitude. ATTIRE // Simple gowns, skirt, and blouses, ostensibly gathered from charity bins throughout the area townships. A truly random assortment of accessories (woodcarved bangles and rings, ornamental chains, glass beads and other bits of curio that catch her eye and end up on her person, or woven into her hair); likely stolen, or found. A patchwork, hooded cloak, made of various, mismatched, swatches and scraps. A keen eye could viably track her previous journeys by the half-torn sigils, and proprietary colours that make up the garment. GEAR // A small, calf leather shoulder bag; also likely stolen. A rusty, iron, poignard style dagger. A long, thin chute of river reed: a defensive implement, as well as a musical instrument of her own making. INVENTORY // A thread-bound bundle of parchment pages, littered with vague doodles, and shapes. A medium sized, wooden spoon, apparently whittled down from a larger, wooden spoon. Coin, occasionally: people can be generous when there's a prettiness to the downtrodden. A handful of broken, and resharpened charcoal pencils. Seashells, and stones she's found, and will gift, or otherwise part with, as she goes. A small hand-drum of early design.
⸻⠀the story⠀⸻
While recorded history of the "Early Peoples" is comprehensive, relatively little is known of the schism that occurred, and resulted in the creation of a branch of Elven blood. These self-appointed "Second Children" distanced themselves from what they believed to be an insidious, fanatical obsession with the impact one, or a people, could leave upon the world, and history. Called nihilists, or worse, by their peers, exile to the coasts further North, came as a welcome reprieve for the world-weary pilgrims.
There -- in their solitude and in silence broken only by victory of sea over land; in their stillness -- legend tells they were able to hear the call of something deeper. Something older...
What came next is unknown. Only that wise men, and scholars devoted to the mysteries that seed, and reap, our world seem to agree upon at least one thing: whatever had called to the Second Children, had so been drawn forth by them too. That, on a day thereafter, no previous memory of them, or their lineage, would bear significance in the presence of what would follow.
It is said that the Universe herself wept, as in labour, when she was torn open to birth their kind.
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