Alisa Phyndraven

Evania

Name: Alisa Phyndraven

Age: 15 (m12/d30)

Position: Heraldic Trainee - 1st year

Gifts: Average/weak Farsight, Average Thoughtsensing, Companion Mindspeech

Other abilities: Fluent in Valdemaran, Trade and Karsite, with a smattering of Jkathan

Appearance: Short and slight is usually the first thought to come to mind when Alisa is noticed, if noticed she is at all. Her straight brown hair, a dark muddy color, is usually held back in a short tail at the nape of her neck, and her skin is just barely tanned enough to not be considered pale. Her build is thin, but not gaunt, with lean muscles that are now slowly growing stronger each day. Most of what strength she does have is in her arms and back from her climbing rout. Her face isn't necessarily ugly, merely on the fairer side of plane. She'd never be thought of by superficialists as a beauty. Her eyes are a dull gray-blue, and her lips a bit thin... but she dimples when she smiles genuinely.

Personality: Though she seems to be on the bolder side, brave and willing to take on any challenge her masters set for her, the mere mention of her father will cause a flash of pure fear to pass through her eyes. Otherwise she's mostly brave and determined, refusing to give up or give excuses. She won't pass blame, and is her hardest critic, striving to be better, stronger. To other's she's kind and friendly, if a bit quiet and subdued, unsure of how real friendship works. Her greatest desire and effort is in learning how to fight and defend herself.

Short Life Story: Alisa grew up as the only daughter of a scrivener in a border town of Valdemar. The man taught her well from a young age in reading, writing, and the languages that he knows. She wasn't really allowed out much for friends and play, and would toil in the house to help clean and cook from a young age. She never knew her mother or what happened to the woman, and has always assumed that the woman died in childbirth.
Her father, Daniel, had fallen on hard times by the time she was twelve, and had taken to beating her if angered by something while working or that she made a mistake at. Thus, she became very skilled at sneaking out of her attic window and scaling the drainpipe to escape at night. It wasn't to run away, she had nowhere to go, but rather to nab a poultice from the local herb-woman for her bruises. After all, grown man though he was, he was rather scrawny and couldn't manage to cause too terribly much damage.
One night, having managed to bar her raving father from her room, she threw her clothes and some meager possessions onto her bedsheet, rolled it into a pack that she tied an end of a short rope to each side of, and snuck out the window. She had to get out… the watch would help, and if they didn't, she could find some other soul to take pity on her. Was she ever surprised to find a Companion in full tack waiting for her at the bottom.

Companion: Khai, stallion

Description: 13 with an Arabian build, well muscled. He's a bit of a hothead, if only about certain things... the topmost of those being his Chosen.

Family:
Father- Daniel Phyndraven; 51; scrivener and linguist; wonders where in hellfires the little demon (Alisa) disappeared to

Updated: 06/15/2008