Tall and long-limbed, Andoril moves with the careful, measured balance of someone accustomed to uneven forest ground and close combat. Her pale skin has a weathered, papery texture over the cheekbones, with fine red capillaries at her nose from years in cold, damp woods. Her breath is usually almost imperceptible, a thin stream that barely fogs the air; when rattled, she takes one abrupt, audible inhale and holds it until the danger passes. Large, black eyes make her gaze seem fixed even when she is listening to someone unseen. Her pointed ears are crowded with tiny bones, blunt silver rings, and teeth taken as trophies. Unexpectedly, she keeps a small, carefully mended child's mitten tucked into her belt, and handles it with more tenderness than any of her ritual tools.

Andoril is compassionate in action but wary in conversation: she will bind a stranger's wound before asking their name, yet distrusts easy affection. In danger she is decisive and frighteningly focused; after a fight she becomes careful, almost ceremonious, counting the living and the dead. She takes pride in her old office and resents the coven's exile, but believes the survivors were right to fear what she became.

Andoril was born among the Morvsne witches in the darkfey-touched Wyrdwood. As a child she spoke to listeners no one else could see, and her bone divinations proved unsettlingly exact. Her sisters noticed that she never shared their monthly bleeding and that she watched blood with a hunger she could not explain. They made her Speaker for the Dead, a role she embraced as sacred work: tending the dying, carrying messages to the bereaved, and settling disputes through the testimony of bones. She later became one of the coven's strongest witch-knights, feared for her zeal and trusted to hunt hostile witches. When the witch-queen Violet died, Andoril took the crone's seat on the Threefold Council. Then the vampire noble Juliette von Zorovitch led a raid on the coven. Andoril fought for three days, finally defeating Juliette, who cursed her with her dying breath before escaping. The curse woke the blood hunger in Andoril's dhampir nature. After days lost in the forest and weakened by blood loss, she was found by her own coven. Starving and confused, she attacked them, killing several and injuring more before fleeing. The survivors bound her magic and laid a curse of wandering upon her. She now walks the forest margins, still performing small rites for the dead and seeking a way to undo the binding without returning as a danger to those she loves.