Silver Romani
Despite being born human, Silver has the look of the wild about her. She is small and slender, a pretty looking thing with the dark red hair of her mother. Her eyes were a dark brown, though they now betrayed something more sinister with a sheen of amber if the light caught her right. Silver is usually always bare footed. Her ankles, wrists and neck are adorned with a few chains and pendants she'd collected over the years. There had been days that her olive skin would have been proudly displayed when she danced, her clothes usually lacking over her stomach, shoulders and legs as most of her gypsy troupe did. Now however, Silver kept her skin as covered as she could. Now there were no parts of her she could show without someone commenting on the scores of scars that stood out, shining in silvery lines across her tanned skin. Her back and stomach had been raked by claws, and though she had healed somewhat quickly from what should have been a fatal attack, the scars had never disappeared, and those with an eye for such things might notice that the circular scars in her thigh and left shoulder had been caused by bites, but she didn't intend on showing her skin to anyone. A small thin scar on her cheek, and one on her neck were all that remained visible of her suffering, but they were not ugly and so didn't bother her, nor had they been caused by the animal that ruined her life.
Silver had a large 'family' who travelled in their wagons from outskirt to outskirt, exhibiting their talents of dancing, singing and stage shows. Meanwhile a select few were usually looting the unassuming citizens in the nearby town or city. Silver was an excellent pickpocket, with a gift for slight of hand as well as her ability to mesmerise young men with nothing more than a sweet smile, their coin purses didn't stand a chance.
Her people's weapons were never worn visibly, though they were usually armed to the teeth with various daggers and knives, and Silver was quick and accurate with these...she'd been taught to throw as soon as she could walk. Silver had managed to conceal the most beautiful elven bow from her father, whom she was certain wasn't her real father, for seven years after picking it up in a tavern. She'd take herself off into the woods to practice every day, until the day her brother told her father about it, had her beaten and the bow became firewood. She was warned never to touch one again, but she longed to..they were far more elegant than knives.
She was once happy and carefree, taking joy in music, dancing and the wild. Each day had been a new adventure for her, and so long as she remained out of her father's way and kept coin coming in, she was safe too. She had been taught to distrust outsiders, and any other race that wasn't human. Magic, real magic, was 'evil', and so it had frightened her from a young age. Silver was hot tempered, a trait that came with the red hair apparently. She had a foul mouth, and she'd always had a knack for getting herself involved in any trouble she could find, there was nothing ladylike about her.
More recently, Silver was a troubled soul, struggling to get a handle on her emotions and mood swings. She was on her own, hunted and afraid, and trying her best to survive.
Raksha
Open Chronicles - The Shift
The young gypsy was riding into a deep wood, her goal to become as lost and as far from any sign of civilisation as was possible, and she was running out of time. She stopped near a stream, pulling the cool air in through her nose, and finding only scents of pine, animals and flora. No smoke. No...