Lady Initiate Llaryn Serannar
The past is just that. Over, done. There is no changing what was, only what will be.
Description: Despite being on the shorter side at just 6'1", Lady Llaryn Serannar carries herself with an almost aggressive boldness. Hair the black of a raven's wing is pulled sweeping to the right from a deep part on the left side. A series of tight, intricate braids give the left side of her hair the illusion of being shorn short, revealing the delicate curve of her ear, the length of her neck and the ruin of her left arm. The unbound hair is long enough to hang to mid-back in a tumble of loose waves. Her face is pretty, with wide, bright blue eyes and expressive jet black brows. Her nose is small and straight and set above a generous mouth. Her body shows signs of having been conditioned for combat once, but those days are over. Her left arm, usually left deliberately on display, is a spiderweb of scars, stiff in movement. Her hand is clearly crippled, able to function for basic tasks, but never to hold a sword again effectively.
(She wears the light gray cloak of an initiate of Estril over a single-sleeved blue robe corseted in the Lorandi style.)
Personality: When she was younger, Llayrn was a bright, happy thing. Perhaps she was never quite as bright as her adored older brother, Daras, but outside of his corona, she burned nearly as bright. Traces of that girl still exist, buried under a painfully won cynicism. Slow to trust and even slower to truly trust, Llayrn is someone who wants to connect to others, but cannot bring herself to do so. There is a fierce determination about her, and she can be horribly stubborn. Still, there are flickers of wit, a sly smile will occasionally tug at her lips and no matter how she tries to snuff it out, there is hope carried in her heart of hearts that those around her won't disappoint her, giving her a wistful innocence she often, and stubbornly, denies exists.
Background: Born third, 25 years after her twin older brothers Daras and Talyn, Llaryn was very much the pesky little sister. Her brothers were old enough to groan when she tromped around after them, though Daras was always the more overtly willing to put up with her, it stood to reason he was the one she looked up to, the one she sought to emulate. That is not to say she didn't adore Talyn, but his brooding nature always made him harder to reach. Llaryn tried to model herself after Daras, dedicating herself to becoming a spellblade, just like her older brother. She was always stronger at the spell part of spellblade, but she tried, determined to be good enough to join Daras' unit. When the war broke out, she got her wish, fighting at her brother's side. It was a harrowing time, or so she thought. It was about to get so much worse. The revelation that Daras was a traitor flattened her. When Talyn took him to the Court of Souls, when the unthinkable happened, Llaryn could not comprehend this turn of events. In her denial, her misguided anger at Talyn, she threw herself into foolhardy combat against impossible odds and nearly lost her swordarm in the process. She did lose the ability to effectively wield a sword with it ever again. She was still skilled and trained in evocation, but her balance, with the loss of her trust in Daras, was gone. While she recovered, she tried to offer comfort to their mother, and on the rare occasion she saw her brother Talyn, memories of the hurtful things said outside the Court of Souls kept her from seeking him out. As the years passed she began following the path of Estril, becoming an acolyte of the Goddess of Justice. Seeking some sense of understanding of her past, the betrayal of one brother, her betrayal of the other, she has been reforged in the years since the move to Aarandor. The time has long since come for her to find her place, her balance in the world again. And maybe tell her brother Talyn that she is sorry. Maybe.