The young lady at the peak of her maidenhood never seems to rest her mind or gaze. Those who had known the late Thane of Carwic might recognize the Lord's mark in his daughter's alert, salted-blue eyes, but it is her step-father she most resembles. She carries herself with the same purpose as Lord Thorvall, captain of The Oathsworn, the same wide shoulders, quicker to laugh than to yell, but ready for either. It's in the working of her mouth, though--the wrinkle of worry that slips in when her thoughts have been lonesome too long--that hints at a brooding intellect that could only have come from her mother.

Dytha's finger is not yet adorned with a bond of marriage, but with her own signet--A rampant boar in gold that had been her father's badge. Weighted by gowns of fur-trimmed fine wool, the embroidery the work of her own, steady hand, she carries herself as the lady she was raised to be. Her embossed belt, stained in reds, greens, and golds, holds the Iron ring of keys entrusted to her care.

Banner Image by Standing Stone Games.