Neris Avelune
Shrine Warden, custom divine initiate
Neris Avelune
Species
Human
Appearance
Neris is a petite, wiry young woman with light olive skin warmed by years beside shrine lamps. Her narrow chin and soft cheeks make her look younger when she smiles, but her vivid hazel-green eyes, flecked with amber, are constantly measuring doorways, hands, and shadows. Thick black-brown hair is braided low, with damp wisps curling around her ears as though she has just come in from misty weather. Her small, strong hands carry permanent amber stains from lamp oil. She moves quietly and economically, keeping one shoulder angled toward the nearest exit. The unexpected contradiction is her immaculate clothing: every hem is clean and every mend is nearly invisible, yet the woman wearing it looks as though she has not slept properly in months. Her tender smile leaves an impression of welcome, while her stillness suggests she is already prepared for violence.
“Soft and rounded, with careful pauses. Neris speaks in a low, clear voice that becomes almost ceremonious when she is frightened.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Permanent amber lamp-oil staining along the sides of her fingers and beneath her nails.
A thin brass chain bracelet that she winds twice around her wrist whenever she expects trouble.
A habit of keeping one shoulder angled toward the nearest exit.
A brass flame clasp polished far more carefully than any other item she owns.
Her hazel-green eyes catch candlelight with startling amber sparks.
Voice
“A low, warm contralto with a slight rasp from smoke and sleepless nights. Her laughter is brief but genuine, like a match struck in a dark room.”
Clothing
A clean, carefully mended smoke-blue wool dress beneath a cream linen overdress with narrow practical sleeves. A muted red sash circles her waist, and a short dark mantle is fastened by a plain brass clasp shaped like a flame. The dress fits slightly too tightly across one shoulder, an old garment altered by hand. A thin brass-colored chain bracelet encircles her wrist, and the cuffs carry faint amber marks from lamp oil.
Body Language
Neris keeps her weight balanced over the balls of her feet and rarely turns her back fully on anyone. She touches two fingers to her ash staff when making a promise. Her smile is sincere, but her eyes often flick toward exits, stairwells, and unattended flames. When angry, she becomes perfectly still and folds her hands over the brass chain at her wrist.
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