Name: Anaïs
DoB: 1359-Mirtul-17
Appearance: Youth
Height: 5'6'
Weight: 104 lbs
Race: Feytouched - Quasi-deity
Occupation: Bard
Patron: Sharess; the Dancing Lady
PoB: Brightwater - Rapture
Languages: Common, Sylvan, Celestial, Alzhedo
Anaïs is beautiful. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, but an awful lot of beholders will find her looks nigh divine; her figue slight, her boyishly short hair a vibrant shade of red mixed with golden strands and her irises the colour of pure gold. Her ears are delicately pointed, not as large and consipicuous as those of certain races, and her nose is small, her lips thin and coloured a darker shade than her skin. Her face is lightly sprinkled with freckles and her body is tight rather than voluptous, hardly any bulges on her chest and with a slight rear that eschews any excess fat. Too perfect to believe? It's one of the perks that come with having a goddess for a mother.
She is dressed in a pair of loose pants the colour of cream, laced together in front of her privates. Her torso is protected by a finely crafted shirt of mithral chainmail, revealing without revealing. Over this is a burgundy coat, sleeveless and open in front, held to her with a black belt. It's hood rests along her upper back. Her boots are black and laced up all the way to her knees, her pants tucked into them. Their soles are hardened leather, not wood, alowing for a lighter step. Her hands and forearms are sheathed in brown fingerless gloves, again laced to her elbows along the insides of her forearms: The index and middle finger of the right glove remains, as she uses these to draw back the string of her bow. Her upper arms remain naked to the world.
While Anaïs' forté is social play, the Art of Seduction, she is no less ready to take up arms, should the situation call for it. Attached to her belt is bow sheath holding a composite recurving shortbow in it's main compartment. In an outside pocket her lyre is held and in pockets outside this one upwards of twenty arrows are held firm. On her back she has strapped two curved scimitars, one handle jutting up behind her left shoulder, the other handle sticking out from her right side. Their sheaths are held together, forming a crescent on her back. While these weapons have their uses, Anaïs weapon of choice, and easily the most bizarre of them all, is her dire flail. A staff with a chained spikeball at each end, it is a difficult weapon to master but a lifetime of practice has made her a force to be reckoned with when she begins to twirl the staff in her hands.
Companion: Anaïs' steed and comrade on the road is a gynosphinx named Mab. Sized like a horse, she has the body of a lioness, the wings of an
eagle and the head of a woman. She makes an odd accessory to the
wandering bard, but a potent one, nonetheless.