"This world is our garden. L̵͝e̢t͢͟'̀͜s̡͞͠ ̵̸p͘i̧͠c̢͘͟k̵̕ ̡th̀e ̷̡͜f̕l͘͞ow̨̡͢e͏̴r̴ś̴̢.̶"
Jinnra Emberglass, more commonly addressed as Jinnra Berylwing, is Sin'dorei void-mage, socialite, alcoholic, and occasional noblewoman. Matriarch of House Emberglass of Leadmirror, a recently formed splinter of the Great House of Emberglass, and noted for her membership in the paramilitary group known as The Sunguard, where despite all actions to the contrary, she has somehow achieved the rank of Duskward. Her reasons for joining the group remain unknown.
Within the group, she serves in her capacity as a void-mage to protect allies and minimize the threat of foes, though her primary skillsets are found away from the field of battle, in her ability to coordinate research, her knowledge of arcane engineering. And when the days are right and wind is strong, how she might commune to the void as might aid her allies.
The lady Berylwing clearly thinks rather highly of herself, with her appearance betraying these beliefs. Anything she wears will be accented in silver or truesilver, both jewellery and wire embroidery, patterns and images on her clothing and overdone jewels hanging from her neck. These accents are given to outfits of purple and sea-green, occasionally more typical Thallasian colours of red and green, but she knows what she likes, and makes attempts to stick to it in her dress.
The purple, of course, to blend with her hair- and even skin. She keeps it thoroughly dyed to avoid showing her natural black, and it always did suit her skin far better. An odd tone, come about from the same mix of half-elf blood that gifts her shortened ears and lifespan, like damp clay glistening from a potter's fingertips. This skin is rarely left to it's own for appreciation, as she'd rather make her body an artpiece in a more literal sense- with her tattoos often changing, not always by hand of a paid, but often of their own accord. Images of insects flutter across her back, sometimes images of beasts chase one another across her stomach. At least once, she's caused a scare at a party with a worryingly realistic portrayal of a dragon ready to breath upon her fellow party-goers from her chest.
Her height isn't much- far lower than reasonable, even for somebody of her mixed blood. She barely reaches the shoulders of most other elven women, though that's hardly to say she's petite. Jinnra is a woman that knows how to live well, a fact that shows itself in her figure- curvaceous is a compliment that might be applied to her, though more critical statements might be more accurate. Her health isn't in danger, but she's certainly not a thin woman.
Despite all this- the pleasant looks she gives to her face, the lavish spectacles she puts on across her body, there's always something deeply unsettling to her. The eyes. It's the eyes, always the eyes. They used to be, as all of her kind, a pleasant emerald green. A reminder of mistakes gone by. But that was a brief moment, and they've begun to change. Purple is the usual descriptor offered. Others are not provided to her face, 'empty', 'hollow'. At least one man believes he saw the starlight in them, once. That's what the Inquisitors say, at least.
There's always been an unfortunate lack of consistency to her personality, though one thing nobody could ever accuse her of is dourness. Smug, hateful, disastrous. But not dour.
Her personality, like many, is driven by her faith- she was raised far from the Light, under more of a local cult than anything else. She was always taught the fleeting of this world, how there was no time to feel anything but joy, no matter the lengths one might find themselves going to to find it. She's never let go of that, and though she often finds this joy in her work, it isn't rare to find her at the end of a bottle or the bit of a water pipe and her attendance at parties is considered agiven.
This isn't always a good thing, especially mixed with those she fights with. She speaks out of turn, and often out of topic. She hunts for joy and pleasure on the field of battle, often in good service and unity- and occasionally in outright slaughter. Distracting from pain with pleasure and use of spells and narcotics far beyond reasonable for an honourable soldier.
((TO BE COMPLETED))