Caidie

"I'm not a girl, I'm a storm with skin."
 

Description

You see Caidie Bantam, Shar'Elur of Elanthia, an Elven Barbarian.

She has pointed ears, stormy grey eyes and a lightly freckled nose. Her ink black hair is hip-length and a mass of misbehaving curls, and is worn untamed.
She has a thick pink scar deliberately carved into the shape of the Elven symbol for eternity on the left wrist, marring fair skin.
She is surprisingly short for an Elf.
Waves of angry brown and white scars twine the length of her right arm, covering the flesh from shoulder to wrist in a chaotic maelstrom of artistic scarring. The image of a small Elven child defiantly dragging a greatsword behind her is branded deeply into the unmarked skin at the heart of the whirlwind. Scored grooves left by the edge of her tapered sword trail in the wake of the slight figure, lines terminating in jagged letters that form the word "SHAR" on the inside of her right wrist.

She is wearing a pink and white striped togball jersey with three glittery slashes on the front, an aged whimsy ring engraved with two chubby cheeked Elven lasses holding hands, an Elven silver wedding band set with a moonsilver-infused Gnomish kocho berry, some bloomers of delicate Albarian lace with ruffled bottoms tied by tiny bows and some white galoshes delicately painted with puddles of pink glitter.

You Lost?

Finding her way to the sidelines of a Tog-Ball field,

a look of wonder filling her stormy grey eyes, a color so chaotic it felt as though she had a storm alive inside her, the young girl watched as enormous men crashed into each other. She could hear the sound of muscle against muscle, the pounding of flesh upon flesh. Captivated by the sight, she allowed herself to stare. Images began to swirl around inside her mind of herself, clad in a jersey and combat boots, unruly raven colored curls flowing behind her as she ran full force down the field. Lost in a daydream, she didn’t hear as he approached, brought back to the present by a large finger flicking her pointed ears, “You lost, Elf?” The voice boomed. Wrinkling her freckled nose she lifted her head to gaze up at the enormous olive-green Barbarian in front of her. She squinted at him as he towered before her, after a pause she said, “Maybe...” Sooty cheeks flushing with a lovely rose color, was she embarrassed or was it merely cold? She then averted her eyes, gazing off into the distance, although saying nothing the storm inside her eyes began to roll, almost giving away the thoughts stirring inside her mind. Then the storm calmed and decisively she turned on her heels and was off in search of a man named Agonar Dokona

Whispers

Whirling in a hurricane, they clung to each other.

Physically fragile, delicate in appearance, but their strength was insurmountable. There was an energy that hummed between them, something secret, something hiding behind their eyes. It was their eyes, wasn't it? Causing the very hurricane to which they clung to each other from, or was it for? That's what happens when a raging storm meets the troubled sea. What fear does the other have of getting wet? They are able to bend and fold and form to the other's will, all the while remaining exactly themselves. Sisters by heart. Two little girls making a home in the shelter of their laughter, their dreams, and unknowingly their fears. In a world of black and white, they stood beside each other in screaming color, wild hair and sparkling eyes, things would come alive. Fingers intertwined, inhaling a deep breath they move forward into everything, into nothing, into the unknown.

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