Sydney Crown

Sydney Crown
Social Rank 8
Fealty Crownsworn
Gender Female
Age 22
Religion Pantheon
Vocation Commoner
Height 5'11"
Hair Color Auburn
Eye Color Bottle Green
Skintone Pale
Authored By / Featured In


Were it not for the concentration of corded muscles in her arms and core, it would be easy enough to mistake Sydney's frame for that of a dancer's - tall, lean, and with long legs that seem well accustomed to subtle, quick movement. By contrast, her hands are rough and almost always beset with callouses, bruises, and scrapes - this is a woman who gets value out of putting her hands to use. She possesses a combination of natural and rugged charms - expressive, startlingly bright bottle-green eyes, and a flash of auburn hair head up the former. Light scars that cut through her freckled cheeks and above her brow, a slight tweak in her nose that's proof positive of a poorly-set fracture from days gone, she's got her fair of rough edges. The sum of her parts add up to a woman that looks just as home with a beaming smile as with an intimidating snarl.

{w({nHer fiery sea of thick, silken auburn hair has been given absolutely no mind today, it would seem. It's unadorned, untied, and absent those restraints, it kisses the tops of her ankles as she walks, dusty at the tips from an apparent lack of care for keeping it off of the floorboards when she seats herself.{w){n


Everything's smiles, until it's not. Sydney tends to give even the most openly hostile a chance to work their way past her first impression of them. As a result, those she counts as friends come from all walks of life, something she prides herself on. She's fiercely loyal to those that endear themselves to her, and nothing incites her anger faster than injustices or hostilities aimed at those she calls friends. With a mixed upbringing, she's been known to adjust her manner of speaking depending on who she's talking to and where she's talking to them - and that's to say nothing of the stark difference in the way she writes and the way she speaks. Sydney tends to wade into situations headlong, a devil-may-care grin on her face, and if it bites her in the ass, she corrects it. She's not above making an ass of herself on things she thinks might work. Pride is cheap. Results are priceless. She's not prone to overlong bouts of wallowing, even with the bad coinflip that life's thrown her way thus far. That's time better spent on making her future a brighter thing, one step at a time, even if the path is arduous and winding.


It's easy enough to trace back a misfortune to its root, in Sydney's case. After her father succumbed to an illness that swept through him like wildfire, she accepted a loan with unfavorable conditions 'just until she was able to get established'. As it happens, that took just a little longer than she anticipated.

As a smithy's apprentice by trade, adequate coin was meager to come by - too meager for the patience of her unscrupulous debtors. After missing one payment too many, the shop she apprenticed for just so happened to turn up scorched down to the foundations overnight.

Apprenticeship opportunities don't just fall out of the sky, and Sydney wasn't fortunate enough to find another. Left with a sturdy set of arms for swinging and smelting, a personality unfit for a courtesan, and a mountain of debts left to pay off, she landed herself a position as a brawler.

Being a touch less than half-bad at taking and giving a beating proved a boon... as did taking the occasional dive here and there to pad her pockets, when the situation called.

Dreams are for the debtless. Sydney's aspirations are simple: To get out from under the debt she owes and do something more than just scrape by. If cornered, she'll insincerely talk about opening her own shop one day. It's a fair sight better than the truth: She'll go where the coin is best until she's allowed the luxury of having her dreams be her own again.