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Saya Dalin and her husband Ballard were refugees fleeing the Silent Army from what is very likely a now extinct Shav tribe. Ballard, being the brave man that he was, immediately decided to join the Iron Guard and was killed during the Siege. Saya's still a little bit angry with him, judging by who she mutters angrily when he comes up. She refuses to speak too much about her tribe. But they appear to have been forest dwellers. Somewhere near the Gray River. Her time, since coming to Arx and after the siege, has been spent learning a trade skill that can help her survive within the city-- after all the Lowers are not always a forgiving place. And she has her daughter-- Yasha --to look after. She apprenticed to an old tailor who took pity on her, and even helped teach her Arvani (Ballard, the fool, died before he could help her become fluent). Time not spent with her mentor was spent at the Shrine of Jayus, learning about the god of inspiration. Her mentor recently passed away and Saya and her daughter have been put out on her own once more.

Tall and willowy she stands at around 5'7", with incredibly pale peach toned skin. A tumble of black hair falls around an angular face that is home to sharp cheekbones. Her eyes are big and around, brown flecked with amber and green. Her mouth is lush and bow shaped, and would be pleasant if it didn't pair with those eyes that always look just a little bit off. As if she were surrounded by an aura of melancholy. She's long limbed and delicate. Pretty but in a peculiar way.

Peculiar. There are other words for Saya but they're not very polite. She's usually half present within any given situation, any given moment. She's forgetful and has an aura of far-away melancholy. Laconic and more than a little bit lazy until she gets a flash of inspiration and then she is a fury of movement and production. She's as likely to suddenly start sketching a new project as she is to walk off mid-sentence.