Symbaroum - Descent into Ambria
Changeling Witch hunter, the perfect dichotomy.
Not only a changeling but a shapeshifter as well, Sareathia can take many forms for a short time. These are a few among the many faces of she with no name.
Her true face is more alien that her human counterparts, and perhaps that is why she was cast out. Her pale, alabaster skin and stark black eyes make her a chilling sigh. Her hair has a soft sheen of red though, it is broken in it’s beauty but a pair of budding horns and forked, pointed ears.
Her dress is striking though, she is clothed in woven silks from head to foot, though she dresses in many layers. Her footwear are worn, black leather boots. Her pants are dark in color and loose fitting, Over these she wears a tunic, and then a hooded coat in a new pitch black. Her waist is adorned in a wide belt that has many small pouches strung from it.
The only oddity aside her rather well kempt appearance is a ratty back pack, worn with many years of use.
Life for Sareathia began as it does for many others. She was born. Though not to human parents. She was born an elf in the wild woods of Davakar… and then switched for a human child. She did not remember her parents, her life, nothing before the Mercenary and his wife that loved her for many years. Though, when her ears turned pointed and her skin shon with ethereal light at the age of twelve, everything changed.
She was given only a bag with a change of her clothes, an old book her “mother” had read to her, clearly tainted by the child’s very enjoyment of it, a stuffed toy that had once held the shape of a bear, and enough food to last a few days on the streets. It was a kindness compared to what happens to some. Though this was a short lived kindness.
Her days on the streets of Narugor were numbered. After suffering the fate of homelessness, she was abducted in the night by a creature of utter corruption. Magic. A witch of the woods stole away the changeling as an apprentice.
In truth, it wasn’t as bad as it might have seemed at the time. She was cared for, fed, and nurtured… until. There is always the risk of corruption for any that wield magics. It was true for the witch that trained Sareathia. As she continued to grow in power, she slowly lost herself until finally she was blighted. Sareathia, now a full woman in her prime, struck down the witch. When she was discovered in the wood by a band of other hunters, they took her in. Her long life being seen as an advantage to wield against the mystic forces. There she was indoctrinated.
Now as a zealot she hunts down the forces of corruption wherever they may be found, in the hopes of ending the cycle of grief that laid her so low. One will take on many things to feel as though you belong, especially when you live in a world that proves time and again that you don’t.