A lean, copper-red tiefling with swept-back black horns, warm umber skin, amber eyes, and a long tail marked by a pale scar near the tip. She keeps her dark hair cropped close on the sides and braided over one shoulder. Her chain mail is carefully maintained, though several links near the collar have been blackened by old infernal fire. A red wool soldier's sash is tied around her waist, faded from years of weather and washing.

Myravela is calm, observant, and quietly protective. She speaks plainly, dislikes needless cruelty, and has a dry sense of humor that appears most often when everyone else is exhausted. She is slow to trust but steadfast once trust is earned.

Myravela Ortheon was born in a river town where tieflings were welcomed only when they were useful. Her mother worked as a farrier, her father was never named, and the local militia became the first place where Myravela was judged by what she could do rather than by the shape of her horns. She learned to march before she learned to read, mastered the spear under a patient sergeant, and discovered that discipline could be a kind of shelter. Her infernal blood occasionally answered strong emotion with flickering red light and the muttered resonance of Thaumaturgy, which frightened her fellow recruits until they saw her use it to steady a collapsing bridge during a flood.