Eirwen Reedveil
Commoner with custom half-fey dreamwalker traits
Eirwen Reedveil
Species
Half-fey human, custom lineage
Appearance
Eirwen looks like a tired marsh worker who has spent too many years sleeping beneath open weather. Her skin has the muted brown tone of river clay, crossed by faint silver lines that resemble dried water channels. Her hands are broad, nicked, and permanently stained green beneath the nails. Her movements are quiet and practical in waking life, with the careful balance of someone crossing rotten boards, but she sometimes stops halfway through a step as if the ground has changed. The unexpected thing about her is her smile, which is warm, crooked, and almost grandmotherly despite the sharp little points of her upper canines. In dreams, she appears eighteen years old, soaked to the waist, with black pond water dripping upward from her sleeves and a mouth that moves a heartbeat after her words.
“Her waking voice is low, warm, and slightly hoarse, with the practical rhythm of someone used to speaking over rain and water. She uses Georgian and Levantine-flavored consonants lightly in names and place words, but her speech remains plain and local.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A pale crescent scar beneath her left eye that darkens whenever someone nearby lies.
A missing fingertip on her right hand, replaced by a carved reed cap that she can remove and use as a tiny whistle.
Her shadow sometimes points toward the nearest dream breach instead of following the light.
She carries the scent of wet mint and extinguished candle smoke.
In dreams, small silver fish swim beneath the skin of her forearms.
Voice
“A low, weathered contralto that becomes gentle around frightened people and abruptly flat when she hears Lord Veyr's name. In dreams, it doubles with a younger voice that accuses her from just behind the listener.”
Clothing
A patched brown wool coat sealed with wax, a reed-woven sash, mud-dark trousers, and cracked leather marsh boots. Her coat is lined with scraps of faded red velvet taken from Veyr's old household banners. Around her neck hangs a dull silver key tied with blue thread.
Body Language
Awake, Eirwen leans forward with open palms and keeps her shoulders low, as if approaching a frightened animal. When lying, she rubs her left thumb over a scar at the base of her index finger. In dreams, she stands too still, tilts her head at impossible angles, and points with one rigid finger rather than using her hands naturally.
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