A lean woman with dust-darkened skin and hands corded with small scars. Her face is calm and practiced; her mouth rests in the slight, almost imperceptible curve of someone cataloguing the world. She walks with the forced economy of someone who seldom uses their legs freely, each step measured because of the iron cuff and short chain that binds her wrist to the post at Emberpen. Her hair is kept braided close to her scalp with colorful threads repurposed from market cloths, giving a whisper of who she once was. In her eyes there is both patient calculation and a small, stubborn amusement. Unexpectedly, despite her captivity and ragged clothing, she wears a thin silver ring on her left thumb that has a small, engraved merchant's mark and is polished from years of rubbing.