Safyra "Fyra" Carver
Posted: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:55 pm
Player Name: Phae
Name: Safyra "Fyra" Carver
Age:20
Race: Human/Shapeshifter
Height: 5'5''
Weight: 125 lbs
Physical Description: Standing at an somewhat shorter height than the average human, Safyra is often below the notice of most people. She has neither the status nor the build to catch their attention. The only thing worthy of attention on the young woman is her oddly sandy-blond hair with two streaks of black near her face. Her body is an hourglass figure, covered by basic brown breeches that hang a little loosely around her legs, a patched cream blouse, and a black bodice with wearing strings. Over this is a patched and worn wool cloak. Her feet are covered by soft leather boots that are also worn.
Her face is, for the most part, plain. Her skin is clear and unmarked save for a scar that marks her right cheek bone, under her eye. Her lips are full and often turned upwards in a smile to show straight teeth. Her eyes are a dark hazel, tinting occasionally towards an odd amber. Hands are slender and feminine, and often brushing hair away from her face, almost as a nervous tick.
As a polecat, she is a reddish brown color, tipped in black, with a darker brown mask over her face, and the same color covering paws and tail tip. Part of the weasel family, she is slender in body, short in leg, with a cone-shaped head, short, rounded ears, and a nose framed with whiskers.
http://img176.imageshack.us/img176/8937 ... ltis31.jpg
-Personality: Fyra is a quiet woman. She was brought up in Marn, with a slight fear of magic, and a worry for the safety of her soul, should she use it.. Quick to smile or laugh or throw out a joke, she has ever been a happy soul. Safe within the confines of Marn's guarded area, she had nothing to fear. She grew up loved and surrounded by those she loved, and so is often more trusting than she maybe should be. Not easily tricked, her mind clever from bargaining with folk in her father's work and from shopping for her mother. She is a loyal and careful woman. After an experience out in the town of Shim, she is prone to flashes of temper and her wit and sarcasm climbed, until she often had to keep an eye out for a sharp tongue. Patience dwindled swiftly. However, she is loving and a caring soul, with a hope for true love and for the world to be a happier place.
Possessions:
-Knife
-clothing
-wool cloak
-pouch
--roughly 20 Bishan
Powers or Strengths:
-Shapeshifting- steppe polecat
-Knife fighting - Her father taught her how to use her knife to defend herself in a fight.
-Basic woodcarving - the basics of how to carve wood into shapes, what wood to choose, and what tools to use.
-Basic sewing - From her mother she learned how to patch and repair worn clothing.
-Stealth - Learned from walking the streets of Marn, she was quick to pick up ways to stay unnoticed or out of sight of those she didn't want to see her
-Smooth talker - Safyra was always talkative with people she enjoyed, and picked up from them quick wits and the ability to lie her way out of schemes.
Sleight of hand - Out of desperation, she learned the basics of how to slip something up a sleeve or into a pocket out of sight.
Courage- For all that she is easily frightened, there is an immense well of courage. She will do almost anything for those that have her love and loyalty.
Weaknesses:
Fear of magic: growing up in Marn left her with a fear of magic, and for her soul should she ever used or be a part of it.
Cowardly: She is more likely to run away or try to talk her way from a situation. She scares easily
Naive- She has only ever, for the most part, experienced the more gentle side of life.
Bright Outlook: This is a weakness in the sense that she almost refuses to see the bad side in somebody. She will continue to see the good in people or situations for as long as it is possible.
History:
Safyra grew up in Marn, with little to worry about. She was the daughter of a woodcarver, who made his living off of the small figures that he loved to pull out of a block of wood. Sometimes he even did statues. Those that had more money would commission pieces from him on the occasion as well. She was safe and loved, and never had a reason to leave the safety she had grown up in.. Her hair was a plain and boring brown, her eyes a gentle blue. The "rebels" were naught but stories, and the world outside Marn and Shim nothing but a dream. It was a charmed life.
And her life was fairly quiet, continuing to be the charmed life, until one day when she went out to a friend's in Shim. The young woman she visited was not the "best of influences" according to her parents, but Fyra didn't care overly much. She dared to risk stepping outside the city on her 19th birthday to visit the friend that had moved when she married a year before. There was a charm about the rustic town, and she was fascinated by what she thought was wild and untamed landscape.
Her friend was welcoming and the lunch that was served filling. It was after that that the young woman went on a walk, her heart aching somewhat to see the love and friendship that her former best friend had found, out here in the farm town. She wandered the fields, content that Shim was as safe as being inside the walls of Marn.
When she stumbled upon the tan -colored, rodent type of animal, she was quite as shocked as it was. But the kindness in her heart could not bear to leave such a pretty thing caught in the snare. She moved to release the animal, earning herself a deep bite on her wrist in the process. The animal leaped away as soon as it was completely free, and with a strange sound, disappeared into the fields.
When Fyra finally found her way back to her friend's house, she was stumbling, a fever burning in her, the wound red with infection and the red streaking up through her veins. She stayed the night there, waking a few days later with the infection and fever gone, the wound healed. Her hair had lightened to a sandy-blond color, with two darker streaks near her face. Her eyes had gone from a blue to a dark hazel, and she could not fathom why. Her face seemed to have a slightly more pointed jaw and nose, and she felt, twitchy, to say the least, constantly fidgeting. Her friend looked at her with wide eyes, and sent her off with a whispered prayer for her saving.
When she reached home, her parents kicked her out with curses. She had been touched by magic, they said, and her soul was cursed. It was her first awakening to the harsh realities of the world. It was the first time the gently raised girl had ever tasted despair. She ended up curling up in a niche in an alley that night, unknowing of the power that she now carried within her.
It wasn't until almost half a year later that she discovered it. She managed to survive because of her charming smile and wit that earned her coins enough to keep her clothed an fed, and often kind people's charity that gave her a floor to sleep on at night. Occasionally she had enough for a room in an inn, and sometimes would pay for it through singing or serving for that night.
On one particular night though, while she was out rather late and cutting through alleys in hopes of reaching her particular destination on time, she ran into a couple of thugs that were drunk. They trapped her in a dead end, and as she backed against the wall, she wished to be smaller, to be able to get away and find a way out. It was instinctual, and she suddenly was smaller, and running away in the most odd, loping manner. The drunks didn't know what to think, but she found her way to the niche she spent the night in when she could not find a space to stay for the night, finding herself to be a strange, lengthy creature when she looked upon herself. Unknowing of what to do, she went to sleep tucked tightly in a ball, the most comfortable position she could find.
When she awoke, she was normal once again, her human self. With tears in her eyes at the realization that her parents had been right, and she was tainted, she made her way swiftly to the church and spent the day praying to Theogios for saving. Her soul was lost surely, but maybe her realization now could help her.
But her fear did not overwhelm her curiosity, when it came down to it. That night, and almost every night thereafter she worked on changing her form from human to polecat. Her practical self argued that it could be useful. But much of her was fearful, and she hid her newfound power from all who she saw, never changing where anyone could see her. Her visits to the church asking the god to save her soul dwindled, until she was once again simply living off the streets. She used her form where she could, stealing with it occasionally, mostly food, but occasionally jewelry or money. She could not carry more than a couple Bishan in her mouth as the animal she had suddenly been able to shift into, but it stacked up, when one hid it away. She swiftly learned that she could not touch silver without burning herself, and it took her longer to learn that she healed quicker when she shifted between the two forms.
And so she lives, barely under the radar, convinced her soul is damned but unable to stop.
Name: Safyra "Fyra" Carver
Age:20
Race: Human/Shapeshifter
Height: 5'5''
Weight: 125 lbs
Physical Description: Standing at an somewhat shorter height than the average human, Safyra is often below the notice of most people. She has neither the status nor the build to catch their attention. The only thing worthy of attention on the young woman is her oddly sandy-blond hair with two streaks of black near her face. Her body is an hourglass figure, covered by basic brown breeches that hang a little loosely around her legs, a patched cream blouse, and a black bodice with wearing strings. Over this is a patched and worn wool cloak. Her feet are covered by soft leather boots that are also worn.
Her face is, for the most part, plain. Her skin is clear and unmarked save for a scar that marks her right cheek bone, under her eye. Her lips are full and often turned upwards in a smile to show straight teeth. Her eyes are a dark hazel, tinting occasionally towards an odd amber. Hands are slender and feminine, and often brushing hair away from her face, almost as a nervous tick.
As a polecat, she is a reddish brown color, tipped in black, with a darker brown mask over her face, and the same color covering paws and tail tip. Part of the weasel family, she is slender in body, short in leg, with a cone-shaped head, short, rounded ears, and a nose framed with whiskers.
http://img176.imageshack.us/img176/8937 ... ltis31.jpg
-Personality: Fyra is a quiet woman. She was brought up in Marn, with a slight fear of magic, and a worry for the safety of her soul, should she use it.. Quick to smile or laugh or throw out a joke, she has ever been a happy soul. Safe within the confines of Marn's guarded area, she had nothing to fear. She grew up loved and surrounded by those she loved, and so is often more trusting than she maybe should be. Not easily tricked, her mind clever from bargaining with folk in her father's work and from shopping for her mother. She is a loyal and careful woman. After an experience out in the town of Shim, she is prone to flashes of temper and her wit and sarcasm climbed, until she often had to keep an eye out for a sharp tongue. Patience dwindled swiftly. However, she is loving and a caring soul, with a hope for true love and for the world to be a happier place.
Possessions:
-Knife
-clothing
-wool cloak
-pouch
--roughly 20 Bishan
Powers or Strengths:
-Shapeshifting- steppe polecat
-Knife fighting - Her father taught her how to use her knife to defend herself in a fight.
-Basic woodcarving - the basics of how to carve wood into shapes, what wood to choose, and what tools to use.
-Basic sewing - From her mother she learned how to patch and repair worn clothing.
-Stealth - Learned from walking the streets of Marn, she was quick to pick up ways to stay unnoticed or out of sight of those she didn't want to see her
-Smooth talker - Safyra was always talkative with people she enjoyed, and picked up from them quick wits and the ability to lie her way out of schemes.
Sleight of hand - Out of desperation, she learned the basics of how to slip something up a sleeve or into a pocket out of sight.
Courage- For all that she is easily frightened, there is an immense well of courage. She will do almost anything for those that have her love and loyalty.
Weaknesses:
Fear of magic: growing up in Marn left her with a fear of magic, and for her soul should she ever used or be a part of it.
Cowardly: She is more likely to run away or try to talk her way from a situation. She scares easily
Naive- She has only ever, for the most part, experienced the more gentle side of life.
Bright Outlook: This is a weakness in the sense that she almost refuses to see the bad side in somebody. She will continue to see the good in people or situations for as long as it is possible.
History:
Safyra grew up in Marn, with little to worry about. She was the daughter of a woodcarver, who made his living off of the small figures that he loved to pull out of a block of wood. Sometimes he even did statues. Those that had more money would commission pieces from him on the occasion as well. She was safe and loved, and never had a reason to leave the safety she had grown up in.. Her hair was a plain and boring brown, her eyes a gentle blue. The "rebels" were naught but stories, and the world outside Marn and Shim nothing but a dream. It was a charmed life.
And her life was fairly quiet, continuing to be the charmed life, until one day when she went out to a friend's in Shim. The young woman she visited was not the "best of influences" according to her parents, but Fyra didn't care overly much. She dared to risk stepping outside the city on her 19th birthday to visit the friend that had moved when she married a year before. There was a charm about the rustic town, and she was fascinated by what she thought was wild and untamed landscape.
Her friend was welcoming and the lunch that was served filling. It was after that that the young woman went on a walk, her heart aching somewhat to see the love and friendship that her former best friend had found, out here in the farm town. She wandered the fields, content that Shim was as safe as being inside the walls of Marn.
When she stumbled upon the tan -colored, rodent type of animal, she was quite as shocked as it was. But the kindness in her heart could not bear to leave such a pretty thing caught in the snare. She moved to release the animal, earning herself a deep bite on her wrist in the process. The animal leaped away as soon as it was completely free, and with a strange sound, disappeared into the fields.
When Fyra finally found her way back to her friend's house, she was stumbling, a fever burning in her, the wound red with infection and the red streaking up through her veins. She stayed the night there, waking a few days later with the infection and fever gone, the wound healed. Her hair had lightened to a sandy-blond color, with two darker streaks near her face. Her eyes had gone from a blue to a dark hazel, and she could not fathom why. Her face seemed to have a slightly more pointed jaw and nose, and she felt, twitchy, to say the least, constantly fidgeting. Her friend looked at her with wide eyes, and sent her off with a whispered prayer for her saving.
When she reached home, her parents kicked her out with curses. She had been touched by magic, they said, and her soul was cursed. It was her first awakening to the harsh realities of the world. It was the first time the gently raised girl had ever tasted despair. She ended up curling up in a niche in an alley that night, unknowing of the power that she now carried within her.
It wasn't until almost half a year later that she discovered it. She managed to survive because of her charming smile and wit that earned her coins enough to keep her clothed an fed, and often kind people's charity that gave her a floor to sleep on at night. Occasionally she had enough for a room in an inn, and sometimes would pay for it through singing or serving for that night.
On one particular night though, while she was out rather late and cutting through alleys in hopes of reaching her particular destination on time, she ran into a couple of thugs that were drunk. They trapped her in a dead end, and as she backed against the wall, she wished to be smaller, to be able to get away and find a way out. It was instinctual, and she suddenly was smaller, and running away in the most odd, loping manner. The drunks didn't know what to think, but she found her way to the niche she spent the night in when she could not find a space to stay for the night, finding herself to be a strange, lengthy creature when she looked upon herself. Unknowing of what to do, she went to sleep tucked tightly in a ball, the most comfortable position she could find.
When she awoke, she was normal once again, her human self. With tears in her eyes at the realization that her parents had been right, and she was tainted, she made her way swiftly to the church and spent the day praying to Theogios for saving. Her soul was lost surely, but maybe her realization now could help her.
But her fear did not overwhelm her curiosity, when it came down to it. That night, and almost every night thereafter she worked on changing her form from human to polecat. Her practical self argued that it could be useful. But much of her was fearful, and she hid her newfound power from all who she saw, never changing where anyone could see her. Her visits to the church asking the god to save her soul dwindled, until she was once again simply living off the streets. She used her form where she could, stealing with it occasionally, mostly food, but occasionally jewelry or money. She could not carry more than a couple Bishan in her mouth as the animal she had suddenly been able to shift into, but it stacked up, when one hid it away. She swiftly learned that she could not touch silver without burning herself, and it took her longer to learn that she healed quicker when she shifted between the two forms.
And so she lives, barely under the radar, convinced her soul is damned but unable to stop.