Kaelie
| Kaelie Rudeone | |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Race | Elf |
| Gender | Female |
| Guild | Empath |
| Instance | Prime |
| Relatives | Jiah, Reira, Mazrian, Daeryean |
Description
You see Hodierna's Fist Kaelie Rudeone-Daemondred, Transcendent Empath of the Order of the Black Fox, an Elf.
A diffuse, honey-colored light undulates lazily across her skin, swirling and eddying with every movement.
She has an oval face with high cheekbones, pointed ears and elegant eyebrows echoing the sweep of ebon-hued lashes that frame her discerning copper-flecked celadon green eyes. Her golden-streaked molten strawberry-blonde hair is a riot of tumbling waves, and is worn loose. She has blush-hued pouting lips and sun-kissed skin accented by some glittery platinum stars and a coltish toned figure.
She has a tattoo of a delicate crescent moon cradling a wolf's pawprint on her neck.
Musings
It has been 440 years, 138 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer.
It is the 4th month of Shorka the Cobra in the year of the Crystal Snow Hare.
It is currently spring and it is early morning.
You're positive it's 14 roisaen before the Anlas of Hodierna's Blessing.
She is standing on the Quarterdeck of the Dance near Pilot Pendal. Feeling the large ship pitch in the Reshalian Sea, she sures her footing by placing a slender hand onto his shoulder. Tendrils of her hair curling tight as the sea spray dampens them. There is an easy smile that is the tell tale sign she is far from population on the open waters and is not subject to the health needs of everyone around her.
Pendal glances over, "You know you should spend more time out here. It agrees with you."
She shoves him playfully away, "One day. But for now I need to finish the work I have been tasked with from my guild. I am so close to having learned all the required amount of Empathy that they demand. In several weeks time I will ask for my 200th advancement in the guild and I can only hope over the decades of dedication they will not find fault with my path or conduct." She closes her eyes, her jawline tenses. They are nearing Ratha, the familiar tickle of pain and worry from the residents reaching her even as they dock.