Seraphina is a haunting figure clad in the charred remains of scout's leathers, patched with strips of grey ash-stained burlap. Her movements are erratic and bird-like, characterized by sudden freezes and sharp tilts of the head as if listening to things beneath the wind. Her face is permanently smudged with soot, making her cloudy amber eyes appear to glow with a sickly light. Contrasting her filthy exterior, she wears a pair of pristine, white silk evening gloves under her fingerless gauntlets, a fragile heirloom she refuses to let touch the mud.

Seraphina is a paradox of military discipline and shattered nerves. She is intensely generous with her tactical knowledge of the Siege-Bred Chimera, yet she will threaten to kill anyone who looks at her moldy bread crusts for too long. She speaks to the fog as if it were a petulant god, negotiating for safe passage in whispers, but treats fellow humans with a cold, analytical detachment. She is hyper-vigilant to the point of exhaustion, believing that relaxation is a precursor to death.

Once a celebrated pathfinder for the Citadel of Valen-Thur, Seraphina's life ended in all but name when the Grey Cinders were engulfed in the current siege. During the first week, her unit was caught in the 'sentient fog' she describes. She watched the Siege-Bred Chimera systematically hunt her friends, its three heads arguing over the spoils. She escaped by hiding in the soot-filled fireplace of a hunting lodge. Now, she spends her days charting the monster's predatory patterns in the soot on the walls, convinced that the fog itself guided the beast to her friends.