Lady Eirianwen Morinen
So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings.
Description: Tall and willowy, her form is built for grace more than the battlefield. No variation of hue colors her features, leaving hers a beauty of glacial tones. Ivory hair curls about an alabaster face, falling to the middle of her back. Her wide, expressive silver gaze is fringed by white lashes. The cupid's bow of her pale lips seems forever threatening to curl into a slow smile, never a pout.
Personality: While optimistic, Eirianwen is anything but blind. Her bright outlook and desire to see the best in all is balanced by the realist she truly is. Flaws and all, she believes nearly everything improves with the right influence. A staunch devotee of Garwen, she strives to be a beacon of light and bring peace by any means to her kinship. Her expressions are rare, fluctuation of tone ever rarer - even if her sage advice is often tempered by deadpan sarcasm and a quick wit. Her approach is a slow burn rather than going straight for the jugular; the infuriating embodiment of patience.
Background: The youngest of her siblings, Eirianwen was spared the burden of any true responsibility she would have eschewed anyways. Saved from the title of heir, the elf maiden enjoyed an idyllic upbringing in Khelwen's icy peaks and perpetual snows.
From a young age she proved a credit to her house and its roots, a penchant for the evocation of wind and ice shaping the majority of her studies. Martial prowess never interested her and she avoided it whenever offered. When asked what she wished to pursue, an answer was never given beyond a silent nod and gaze wandering skywards. Her parents mused she was undecided, patient and simply biding her time until necessity chose, but the tutors had another word for it. "Difficult."
And so it continued for many seasons, forever learning but never committing. While still young for an elf, she began to see the touches of age on her parents as the weight of mortality took hold. For the first time Eirianwen felt a pang of fear shatter that idyllic veil.
It wasn't until the Host came during The Eradication War that she began to find a purpose. A fledgling to the craft, Eiri helped at the sidelines, healing where she could but using her evocation talents moreso to help shield better healers as they worked. It seemed hopeless to her, as soon as one was healed another would fall. When the call came for a retreat she did not hesitate to think it was the choice to be made. Not a choice without consequences, but one that had to be made regardless.
The Third Migration only served to steel her more, honing the need for purpose, for a purifying perfection to ensure that she would never be adrift again. To drift was to stagnate, to stagnate to become weak, to die. While Eirianwen suffers no delusion she is by any means perfect, salvation and survival is found in striving for purity. What is not sullied, can't be sundered.