Lyra is slightly above average in height, with a lithe form that she covers with the standard of sailors the world over, tattoos and just enough clothing to be appropriate for the weather, and little else. Her hair is a chestnut brown, cut just above her shoulders. She moves with the grace of long years on a ship, a rolling gait that serves her well on the high seas.

Lyra Vance was not always the incorrigible scoundrel she is today. In her younger years she was the daughter of two peasants, a cobbler and a scullery maid in Vel Anir. Neither of her parents had the skill or wherewithal to move above their station in the cruel Vel Anirian environment, though they often spoke of just such. That talk, however, got her father arrested by the guards for sedition, an event that changed her life forever. For as her father was walked to the stockade in manacles, Lyra ran away through the streets of her home, uncaring where she ended up. Her feet took her to the docks, and then onto a ship.

No one noticed the scared waif of a girl until they were well away from the shore, and in the attempts to capture her, Lyra ran circles around the crew. Up and down the rigging, through gunports and even into the cargo hold and up into the crows nest. Finally, the bosun called a halt to the chase and beckoned the girl forward. He took her under his wing, teaching her everything he knew about life on the sea. Over the years she grew to be an excellent sailor, and a prolific bar brawler.

After years under his tutelage, Lyra has struck out on her own for fortune and glory.