Dressed in traveling garb of drab, earthy hues, this young woman is not the sort whose appearance is likely to inspire the admiration of those around her. Her sturdy, feminine build appears to be unremarkable, save for a few extra inches of height that place her above many local women of Bree-land and its neighbors. Eyes of an uncanny silvery-green look out from beneath the hood of an old, stained cloak with a cautious, gentle warmth. Her hair seems to be her crowning glory, framing her sun-kissed visage with lustrous locks of deep chestnut, though it is often tousled and flattened by wind or the weight of her hood. A greeting will be amicably returned, but her gaze is fleeting and shifty. Perhaps it is the fact that her features, which echo with what might once have been great beauty, are grossly disfigured by jagged scars. Any weapons that might be on her person are well hidden.

An unobtrusive figure likely to go unnoticed, she is not often found within the walls of any town or city. She travels wherever she is needed, and is most often encountered in the wilderness. Her past is shrouded in a staunchly guarded silence that she breaks for no one.