Ilsa Innes

Ilsa Innes
Social Rank	8
Fealty	Crownsworn "Crownsworn" is not in the list of possible values (Redrain, Valardin, Grayson, Thrax, Pravus, Lyceum, Crown) for this property.
House	Innes
Gender	Female
Age	24
Religion	Shamanism/Pantheon
Vocation	Apothecary
Height	average height
Hair Color	Red
Eye Color	Green
Skintone	Pale, Freckled
Journals
Authored By / Featured In
Active

Description

%TA delicate flower. A fragile gem. An apt description for the woman, in form and figure. Lush, tonal green eyes, darkly lashed, accented by perfectly arched brows illuminate her face, set above a puckish nose. Full, sweetly curved cupid's bow lips in a naturally rosey tone add a sensuality to her face, offsetting high cheekbones and a slender chin. Her skin is all peaches and cream, darkened by a peppering of freckles splashed over her skin. Her hair is a brilliant sun-kissed red, shot through with hints of sunset orange and gold, framing her face in the playful wisps, and falling down to the small of her back.

Personality

Ilsa is, in a word. Mercurial. Her laughter comes as quickly and as easily as her temper, moments of sudden inspiration as likely to take her has moments of reflection. Too well does she know that kindness must often go hand in hand with cruelty. And yet, for all that she has seen, the world in her eyes is ever new, ever surprising. A thing to be seen, and felt, and tasted. Experienced in all of its manifestations. Taking the bitter and the sweet.

Background

Hillward. A town in the Oathlands of little renown. But it was home. From the moment of Ilsa's birth, a place of hard work and graft, of joy and delight. A place of simple pleasures for simple folk. Folk who knew the wisdom of the woods and who gave thanks for the gifts they were given by the gods. Ilsa was born into a house of wise women, her own mother, having lost her husband soon after her daughter was born, lived with her sister's family, with her mother and aunts. A family of women tending to their own. From her youngest days, she trailed at the heels of these wise women, learning their ways, learning the secrets of herb and flower. The power of poultice and potion. The wisdom of speaking to the gods and to the spirits of the land. And when she came of age, she took her place as a wise woman herself, tending to the needs of the town and of the countryside. Knowing, always, that the day would come when she would find her way to the wider world, to places of greater renown and grander vistas. A place where she could ply her craft and hone her skills. And now, her chance has come. And Arx awaits.