Detailed Appearance:

Raised to be more refined, her movement and mannerism are very elegantly defined. She is a woman of dignity and tries to hold onto that when presenting herself. Her raven hair has been described as lush and strangely sodden, which has been attributed to her elven heritage. Her rounded features have often been likened to her birth father. Passably human in appearance, Lysette and her twin brother have spent much of their developing years trying to blend in to the scenery as much as possible to avoid suspicion or worse, persecution for what they truly are. She is comfortable wearing the dress robes of a lady, or her travelling gear- either way, she would rather be wearing something than nothing at all.

"I'd much sooner call myself shrewd than be thought a common whore"

Her voice has a weight, but not exactly sultry. It carries an air of coldness to it- a tongue that can bare teeth. Having lived her youth in fear and hunger has taught her the cruelty of man and distrust that comes with them. She has seen the way it can carve at a person's very soul and as sickening as it is to her, she has learned to watch as a raven upon her pray. Wait for it to be over, then glean the corpse. Some would say her eyes are husks of a woman not truly alive- others would say that even in the most lightless pools, something stirs.

"It's dead, you can find something useful off it or leave it alone"

Standing just under six feet, beneath her travelling gear, Lysette is physically average, while her limbs are a bit more limber. She is very agile, used to curves and fast movements that require fast foot work, akin to dancing. Because of this, her ankles have braces beneath the boots that are meant for added support. Lysette was trained to be relentless while in combat, and that means being quick on her toes.

Detailed Backstory:

Maybe, maybe if I pretended hard enough, I'd believe it to be true. That this was all just a bad, terrible dream to torment me in my deepest sleep. I could agonize over this in my waking hours, maybe toil on it midday in my own solitude. The more I try to convince myself, I'd have to believe it to be wrong. The longer I stare into this letter, the longer I felt the world. I could feel every moment slow to a stop, my heart twisting my chest as I read it over again and again. This wasn't just a dream, but a nightmare I couldn't awaken from. A nightmare that was real, that was true and every breath I take burns; the tears that cool my face also stains it.

"To my dearest sister, Lyss

If you are reading this letter, I have already left Wryshire. I have been summoned in service to a friend of our father, I trust you know whom has requested my services. I am sorry that I could not tell you of this myself in person. I do not intend to return home till the troubles in Malcast are quelled. I will dwell fondly of the day I will return home to you and Elienne. This may be the last letter I ever write to you, but do not lose hope. I intend to return home victorious in the name of our home and our family name!

Your brother, Lydian."

Every word felt so final. That accursed land brimmed with death. It was a death sentence to go there. Why? Why would anyone want to risk there lives?! Had he not heard the stories? Felt the darkness that steeps the wind in the putrid scent of blood? Why would he go off to die?!

I cling to the letter, trying to understand what fate could have been worse enough to have him believe this to be preferable to our lives here. It was cruel. Too cruel. It was sickening. There was nothing left for us to prove. We already brought ourselves up from nothing. The nothing of the streets of Malcast- the land of our birth. We lied, cheated, stole. We did what we needed to survive after mother left us to die. That city, that lord; they mean nothing to us now. Absolutely nothing. Friend of our father maybe, but he himself did not help us. He did not provide for us.

Taking a swig of the blush beside me, I sink into my seat, broken and uncertain of what actions I should take- planning to take over the duties of the house or to plan for a funeral. Every possible, horrible outcome was flooding out in my thoughts like waves ripping at a caravel lost to the tide. The rain outside beats on the glass; each drop, a flick of silence stolen from my thoughts. breathing deep, I move to the window, peering out into the storm.

It was a night like this that father found us. It was a night almost exactly like this that the kindness of a noble would change our lives. We were raised to love that which was different. To love those who may hate us. He became our father. He gave us the hope that I never felt or tasted before- that everything would be alright- that we'd never lay cold or starve ever again. On the night we returned here to this very house, every maid or servant scoffed at us, as if we were vermin. And everyone that did received a stern scolding. He didn't have to take us in, but he did. He believed we would be better than what was expected of us by those whom believed us to be so lowly.

It was though father that I learned how to wield a blade. He taught Lydian and I how to defend ourselves from those who'd seek to harm us, our household or our way of life. Father lead the Lyllian Circle- an honor band of knights formerly of Fenlian lineage. Lydian believed father only wanted to pass on his legacy. I believed he wanted so much more than that. I truly believed he wanted a family. The other knights of the Circle were like any other aunt or uncle to us- taught us what children our age should of already known. Our first missions of protecting travelling merchant carts, or hunting a fugitive were riddled with errors that were harshly punished, but the rewards always outwayed the risks. Every time we succeeded, I could feel how proud he was of us. How proud all of them were of us. But as the years went on, and their hair grew tired, old and gray, our missions steadily only trickled down to Lydian and I. We were requested less often but the pay was always handsomely large enough to remind us why we continued our work. We were more than the common mercenary- no- we were a family of Knights whom outlived their masters but bound by their honor code to protect. We at the core of everything, we were still a family.

Our birth father had long sense been imprisoned, more than likely dead. I do not know his name or what he did to deserve his sentence, but if it was severe enough to never see the light of day again, maybe it was worth his freedom shackled away forever. He was a dark man of ill temper and a rather thirsty habit that cost any form of gold that we could muster, often leaving us starving. When he was taken from us, we were thrown to the streets, left to our own devices.

It was when I finally realized that our mother did not love us. The nights she would eat deliciously while Lydian and I had nothing. The many men who took her company while we hid in shadows hoping the mornings would give us something- even the slightest morsel to eat. So many times I thought death was preferable to what the gods had left for us. What had I done other than being born to deserve this? What fate was there for us? There was nothing but rotten meats and vermin for us. And then one evening, mother never came back to our hovel, and it was that moment, Lydian and I were on our own. It was hard at first, but food was no longer as hard to find when a stray cart was left unattended or maybe when discarded meals were left to decay.

Never again. Never again would we live for fear of our next meal or a warm bed. Maybe Lydian knew that Lord Wryshire wanted something of us, or maybe even saw the potential within us. It was our chance and I embraced it while he took it with caution. When we left Malcast for Wryshire, I slept more soundly than I had ever before. I was finally safe, I was wanted for something for the first time- to fulfill a legacy of knights, it didn't matter. I was needed. We were chosen out of any others for this, and as we grew, Lydian always said it was because of how we could always outrun the guards, or how patient we were before making our move, but... What would the possibility be that this man sought us out for that? How unlikely would it be, that we were chosen because of that? I shutter at the thought. Every time it was phrased that way, it seemed as if Lydian believed we were a problem needing fixed and by taking us off the streets, had done that. The other girl within our home had a similar life of hardships, but she was taken from a swamp- our differences are vast in that regard.

Elienne joined us not long before father grew ill. She was brought to us, scarred, burned by magics and hexes. We were told her mother was a witch and that talk of magic around the girl was forbidden. Much talk around her was small as alas, she was mute. A girl of petite figure, she too was trained in Lyllian Sword play but she was never very good at it. She became more scholarly, more shut in but so close to Lydian. He read her tales of swords, songs and saviors; stories of heros and monsters. Even after father's passing, she became fully attached to us, more as a child than a sibling. After every recruitment by local towns for work, she would always be ready for us at home. We never had to worry about her while we were away...

And yet this time, my heart screams for this coming morning when I return to my motherland of Malcast. I need to bring Lydian home. I need to ensure he is safety... I cannot... I cannot lose him. I cannot do this alone and I know Elienne wouldn't either. In the early hours, I will tell her myself that I am leaving. I take one more drink of my wine before closing the curtains completely, removing my garb and sitting near the fireplace. This night gross long- the shadows even longer. the Roaring thunder outside settling as morning draws near.

Please.. Please be safe. I need you, brother..



Weapons: Lyllian Thorn Rapier and Dagger. A Formidable weapon pairing of Lyllian knights. Longer than the standard rapier, they are also slightly broader- they meant for more slashing than thrusting. The dagger, although intricately designed and riddled with barb motifs in the blade, is meant more for parrying.
Armor: Light leathers and braces. The garment is meant to be easy for travel but durable enough for uneasy conditions. Not pictured is her trademark black cloak and feather mantle.
General Provisions:
- Lysette normally travels lightly- having learned at an early age how to sleep without a bedroll. She normally carries a few rations, and uses a black, intricately designed cloak for warmth. Her small side satchel will generally include basic amenities for first aid- like wraps and smalls herbs.
- She carries a locket given to her by Lord Willam Wryshire. It is a cameo of a lily over a crested, fine silver. The locket doesn't seem to open, or at the very least, Lysette hasn't figured out how.
Magical Items:



Magical Affinity: None, that she is currently aware of.

Spells: None as of now.