Sister Nalaea Reymar
Storms draw something out of us that calm seas don't.
Description: Though not terribly tall, Nalaea is still of a decent height and certainly not willowy either. Every inch of her tanned form holds a wiry, lithe readiness to it: limbs fit with fine-tuned muscle. Nothing of her is bulky, but nothing is svelte either. She bears a few feminine curves from bust to trim waist and a slight outward tilt at hips, but overall is a form made for dexterity and speed. Her black hair is often sheared to something around shoulder-length if not shorter, left to hang perhaps awkwardly around her sharp-edged and weather-burnished features. Nalaea's gray eyes darken or lighten with her moods, but are tempered by high-arched brows and a mouth that bears hints of lines around it indicating an ease and quickness to smile.
(Intricately designed knot-work tattoos in black ink are visible on her hands and going up her forearms.)
Personality: Impulsive, brash, and more than a little loose with her tongue. Never let it be said that Nalaea is shy or a wilting flower. She is as bold as the storms she thrives in and tends to leave with just as abrupt a nature. Those that have known her for much of her life have said she has not always been this way, but it is something that has grown in her and is steadily becoming more refined. Sometimes the impulsiveness is, instead, a bold and pointed decision. She is growing and becoming, but what she is not is reticent or quiet.
Background: In her younger years, Nalaea struggled with adapting to life around her. Perhaps not life, though, so much as people. Her mother called her a 'wild thing,' though not in the way most might view the term: she took more to the places where nature took hold rather than where her fellow people gathered. She did not sit still for lessons. She did not like big meals. She simply wanted to stand where the land met the sea or to lurk in amongst a copse of trees to watch a small creature take its first steps. The quiet of the land was more her home than anything else.
Once she came of age, however, and partook in the Blessing of Larenos, the tattoo was barely limned upon her skin and she was ready to explore yet more. To still delve into the world and isolate herself. Taking to the waters themselves seemed to unlock something within her and she saw the seas as her new home. She took up a place upon a ship and that was that (as one might say). She took to the rigging as easily as the sword, settling in with her new crew. And it was with this crew that she made the migration along with everyone else. And in that great storm, her ship was sundered. Nalaea witnessed terrible things in that storm; things she has never spoken of. Most simply believe that it was the loss of those she had come to view as a sort of family and the loss of the ship she served on. When the storm cleared, it was another ship that brought her on board: half-dead and half-crazed.
After recovering, she seemed to only care about storms for some time. Wind, rain, lightning. It was a fascination for her and one that drove her nearer and nearer to the Lifewell and studying evocation magic. She sought whomsoever might train her or even simply communed with the weather when it came.
Now talented with both spell and sword, she has stood on the deck of a few ships since but hasn't yet found the one she can really call home.