Sylvarra is a striking wood elf with hair the color of autumn embers. She wears deep emerald silks layered under supple dark leather armor, accessorized with gold-filigreed scabbards. Her movements are fluid and cat-like.

She is as warm and inviting as a hearth fire until crossed, at which point she becomes a raging inferno. She has a high-born arrogance tempered by a chaotic desire for freedom. She treats life like a game of high-stakes acquisition.

Born to the minor Sun-Thistle noble house, Sylvarra spent her youth confined to ivory towers and manicured gardens. While her siblings studied etiquette and trade, she spent her nights learning the architecture of the family estate from the rooftops. Her first 'heist' was stealing her father's signet ring simply to see if she could do it without the guards noticing. She found the thrill of the take far more rewarding than any inheritance ever could be. After a particularly loud argument with the family patriarch about an arranged marriage to a dwarven merchant lord, Sylvarra took her finest clothes, two heirloom shortswords, and disappeared into the night. She now walks the fine line between the aristocracy and the underworld, using her noble status to gain entry to places her thieving skills can then exploit. She doesn't need wealth to survive, but she craves the glitter of a well-earned prize and the silence of a picked lock.