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Arianwen can be maddeningly tight-lipped about her past, but can anyone really blame a Lower Boroughs girl for her privacy? Especially one that grew up in the rowdiest and darkest slums in the lowliest section of Arx? Nevertheless, most know by now that Chanse Grayhope either practically raised her, or perhaps he just happened to be nearby while she grew up on her own. Whatever the truth, she often casually introduces herself with the Innkeeper's family name appended. Regulars at the Murder of Crows would have also heard something terribly unkind occurred to her biological parents, which caused her to experience a short stint as a street urchin before her double digit years, and before appropriating a room at the inn. These days, she's happy to make a living as the preeminent tavern maid for the underbelly of Arx - singing numerous merry tunes, demanding the compliance of drunken ne'er-do-wells, and making a pretty penny washing clothes or tending to bar brawl injuries on the side. Famous for her beauty and the melodramatic stories sung of her by sea-bound sailors, it is the rare individual that dares to truly harm the beloved Star-Eyed River Nymph of Arx.

Whether obscured by a Lower Boroughs coating of grime or the rare application of expensive cosmetics, her natural beauty cannot be denied. Passion and hard-earned experience radiate from her gaze, those dazzling orbs an uncanny gradient of deep amber out to mesmerizing greens and vibrant blues. Long lashes and cupid's-bow lips serve to compliment skin as pure and pale - features as soft and delicate - as a lily petal dipped in sunlight. A harmonious symphony of honeyed brown and gold hues flow in voluminous waves, framing the graceful lines of her defined hourglass figure. Coupled with an air of casual confidence, her light and lyrical voice demands attention from even the most jaded listener.

Perpetually stubborn and commonly pragmatic, it is little wonder that she has worked at least a decade for the stolid Chanse Grayhope himself. Of course, unlike her employer, that sturdy core frequently hides under a cheery demeanor, one perfectly suitable for a tavern wench serving mugs of ale to society's outcasts. An attitude also quickly honed to a fine dagger of command, in situations where intoxicated customers become a bit overzealous. Youthful energy and confidence only occasionally get in the way of careful ambition and an unfaltering loyalty to those she calls friends. Fitting in just fine as one of the rabble of the Lower Boroughs - and despite her superficial gentility - she can watch someone rob or knife another without batting an eye.