[hider=Rue][center][color=a9a9a9][h2]C H A R A C T E R   S H E E T   T E M P L A T E[/h2][/color][/center]
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[hr][h2][color=#13D622]Rue Nightengale [/color][/h2][hr]
[color=13D622][sub][b]Appearance[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify]Dark oaken hair normally tied into small braids that rest on her shoulders. Her hair naturally drifts against the right side of her face, yet through the strains her emerald eyes still shine twice as best. On her caramel skin she bares white painted lines on both sides of her hips going up towards her shoulders.She has a rather athletic body, a faint set of abs and broad shoulders on a slight curvy body. Luscious lips of faint crimson but always full of mischief and cunning. For clothing, she tends to wear a barmaiden outfit but modified that added bits and pieces of leather. Leaning more towards flexibility, mobility and style, though armor is more secondary than anything. Around her neck is a slightly tarnished choker carrying an old crest and adorned on her head is a silver fillet.[/justify]

[color=13D622][sub][b]Personality & Reputation[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify]Rue is a very cynical woman. Kindness is a front and intimidation is a mask, both worn by frightened souls. Yet that doesn't stop her from being the source of joy for whoever needs it. A comfort for those who want it. An arrow for anyone that is willing to pay. Because, if everyone wears masks, why wouldn’t she? So, in a world full of masks, why not pretend. She offers smiles, honeyed words, all in order to get closer towards her prey and target. For her lies are her own armor. It’s a way to feel safe and in control of everything. She carries a reputation for being a beautiful dancer and a charming woman, but for those who know the truth she is a frightening huntress.Yet, as she got older lies falter and something mystical took place.[/justify]

[color=13D622][sub][b]History[/b][/sub][/color]

[justify][hider=History]Rue was born in Silach, though she never truly belonged to it or to any city at all. Her home was the road: dust beneath her boots, wind tugging at her sleeves, and always, always her mother at her side. Together they traveled from town to town, never staying long enough to grow roots, never lingering long enough to be missed.
Her mother was many things, depending on who asked. A fortune-teller with knowing eyes. A healer with vials of cloudy liquid and soothing words. A temptress who whispered promises into the ears of lonely men and vanished before dawn. What mattered was that people paid. Coin flowed easily when wrapped in hope, desire, or fear, and Rue never lacked for food, shelter, or the small luxuries of childhood. Every birthday came with a new dress. Every winter passed without hunger.
To Rue, it seemed like magic. But Rue was curious in a way that made her dangerous to herself most of all. As she watched her mother spin fortunes and cures, she asked a question that would shape the rest of her life: “Why do we lie,” she asked, “when we could just tell the truth?”
Her mother only smiled, adjusting her rings, eyes sharp and fond all at once. “Because,” she said gently, “people listen better to what they want to hear.” Rue remembered that sentence. She carried it like a charm and like a warning.
From then on, Rue learned to lie deliberately. At first, they were small things: exaggerations to draw a crowd, reassurances whispered to the frightened, promises she knew no one would return to collect. She helped her mother sell miracle cures that cured nothing, fortunes that foretold whatever the listener most desired. Rue learned how to smile just enough, how to tilt her head, how to sound sincere even when she felt nothing at all.
As she grew older, Rue stepped into the spotlight. Her voice carried farther than her mother’s now; her presence drew attention effortlessly. While her mother wove elaborate tales, Rue anchored them encouraging customers, laughing at the right moments, nudging doubt aside with warmth or confidence. It was a good life. A profitable one. And for a time, a happy one.
She even fell in love.
A lesser nobleman’s son became a regular visitor. He brought coin at first, then gifts, then excuses to linger. Eventually, he brought her a necklace bearing his family’s crest. He fell in love not with the girl beneath the masks, but with the story she told him and Rue, disastrously, fell in love with being believed.
When he asked for her hand, Rue’s mother surprised her by agreeing. Perhaps she was tired of the road. Perhaps she believed this lie could become a truth. His parents did not.
The noble family tore through Rue’s past with practiced cruelty. Old rumors resurfaced. Witnesses came forward. The performances were rebranded as fraud. The cures as poison. The fortunes were heresy. They were called deceivers, liars who led honest people astray. Guards were summoned. Rue and her mother ran.
Years on the road had not been kind to her mother’s body. She stumbled. She slowed. The guards caught her before Rue could turn back. Rue still heard her mother’s voice screaming at her to run, to live, to survive even as hands dragged the woman who taught her how to lie into chains. Rue fled Silach with nothing. No lover. No mother. No coin. Only her lies.
She survived as she always had: by adapting. She rebuilt herself town by town, face by face, mask by mask. She stayed hidden, stayed clever, stayed alive. In secret, she trained for combat, for thieving, for the day she would be strong enough to return and free her mother. She learned how to be feared when kindness wasn’t enough. How to sell comfort without attachment. How to become useful.
And then she met a mage. They spoke of magic not as power, but as compromise. Of gods not as benefactors, but as accountants. Nothing was given freely. Everything was paid for. That night, Rue made the only offering she truly possessed. She offered the gods her lies. Not symbolically. Not partially. Completely.
She promised to surrender her ability to lie to never again speak falsehood, no matter the cost. In return, she asked for magic. Not fire or glory or dominion. She asked for conjuring: the power to summon what was needed, when it was needed, and send it away when its purpose was done. The gods agreed.
Rue gained magic and lost the one tool that had kept her alive since childhood. Now she walks a world still full of masks, unable to wear the one that once protected her best. She speaks carefully. Conjures solutions instead of excuses. And somewhere, in a cell or a grave she has not yet found, her mother waits, still bound by the lie that truth will someday be enough.[/hider][/justify]

[color=13D622][sub][b]Strengths & Limitations[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify][hider=Strengths] [h3]”Vowbound Conjuration.”[/h3]
Weapons of Conjurations: Rue can conjure tools or weapons perfectly suited to a task. The form depends on truth: a blade, a bow, a binding chain. The weapon cannot be used outside its declared purpose. If she attempts to misuse it, it vanishes.
Vowbound Entities:Rue can summon Nonverbal entities created to fulfill protective or observational roles. Watchers that alert her to danger, Guardians that intercept harm,Barriers that exist only where needed, etc. These conjures do not think deeply. They act on literal instruction.
Shifting Perspective: Rue can create little changes in the world. A warmth that eases shock, A presence that absorbs grief, A stabilizing force for the panicked. Anything to help ease anyone she believes that needs it. However it is always minor and these are dangerous for Rue because they expose emotional truth. Overuse leaves her emotionally drained or hollow for a time.
[h3]”Crowd Reading & Social Pattern Recognition.”[/h3]
Rue can read groups as easily as individuals. Identifies leaders, followers, skeptics Anticipates emotional swings in crowds Knows when to escalate, distract, or withdraw, knowing exactly what makes a person tics and how they break.
[h3]”Performance & Persona Control.”[/h3]
 Rue learned how to become what people expect. Controlled posture, voice modulation, eye contact, Seamless shifts between warmth, neutrality, and menace, Awareness of how masks affect others. After all, the best performers are the ones that give exactly what you want from them.
[h3]”My weapon is my word.”[/h3]
Rue is adept with most of her weapons she conjuries, however she prefers to use words or threats to break her opponents, or even better let her enemies fight one another on her behalf. (Kinda like charm and vicious mockery from D&D.)

[h3]”Adaptablity.”[/h3]
Rue has lived without stability her entire life. New cities don’t unbalance her, loss doesn’t paralyze her, it redirects her. She can rebuild identity quickly. 
[h3]”A Dancer’s Vigor.”[/h3]
Rue moves like a dancer whose stage is the world itself. Years on the road have honed her body into a living instrument of precision, agility, and grace. She climbs walls and obstacles effortlessly, negotiating surfaces with balance and economy rather than brute force. Her flexibility allows her to twist, roll, and recover seamlessly, turning slips and falls into controlled movement. In combat, Rue is fluid and evasive. She does not meet force with force, but redirects it, exploiting momentum and rhythm to incapacitate or escape rather than overpower. Every strike, parry, and step feels like part of a dance[/hider]
[hider=limitations]. [h3]”Cannot Lie.”[/h3]
Rue cannot lie, she cannot lie to herself, others, not even her magic. Everything must be true to her best ability. Whenever she does lie, the lie never escapes her mouth and rather makes her silent. If her magic was based on a lie, it would not come into existence nor would it work properly.
[h3]”Physical Limitations.”[/h3]
Despite her agility, Rue is human. She tires, can be restrained or trapped, and is vulnerable to prolonged physical conflict. Rue excels at fluid, evasive combat, but she struggles in straight, sustained brawls or against overwhelming numbers where mobility is limited.
[h3]”Limited Conjurations.”[/h3]
 Entities she summons act literally and without independent thought. Complex strategies requiring initiative cannot be delegated to them. Shifting Perspective conjures: comfort, warmth, presence: drain her emotionally. Frequent use leaves her hollow, fatigued, or vulnerable.
[h3]”Social Manipulation Limits.”[/h3]
Her greatest weapon is words and implication, but she is less effective against irrational, indifferent, or highly reckless opponents. If enemies ignore consequences, her psychological tactics can fail. Reliance on indirect manipulation may backfire if opponents recognize her approach.


[h3]”Pychological restraints.”[/h3]
Rue’s reliance on timing and precision makes her hesitant in unpredictable or chaotic situations where careful planning is impossible. She can falter when forced into situations demanding outright deception. Overuse of her performance/persona control can blur her identity and slow decision-making.


[h3]”Emotionally Vulnerable.”[/h3]
Rue absorbs the emotions of others when helping or calming people, which can overwhelm her. Overexposure or betrayal can destabilize her focus and magical precision. She struggles with attachment loss or betrayal hits harder because she keeps most connections at arm’s length.[/hider][/justify]
[color=13D622][sub][b]Miscellaneous[/b][/sub][/color]
[justify]Rue loves gossip and interesting people. If you have a story she will do anything to hear it. 
Despite her manipulations and cold acts, she absolutely loves kids, always offering something to them. 
Rue never really shows her true self, mainly afraid to be truly seen, which she tries to ignore the questions about how she really feels. Though she has a soft little laugh that can’t be faked.
Even though she is a dancer for both fights and manipulations, she always fall in love with dances and the story it tells.
She hates alcohol. [/justify][/color][/cell][cell][sub][sup][color=2e2c2c]____________________________________________________________________________[/color][/sup][/sub][hr][color=Gainsboro][h3]◤  [sub]“I offer warmth, a blade, or silence. Choose carefully; all three are sharp.”[/sub][/h3][/color]
[img=portrait goes here[img]https://i.pinimg.com/1200x/86/19/8f/86198f480aaa17bd74880c487422a11e.jpg[/img][/img]
[hr][color=13D622][b]Full Name:[/b][/color] Rue Sarah Nightengale
[color=13D622][b]Age:[/b][/color] 27
[color=13D622][b]Voice Claim:[/b][/color] Alanah Pearce
[color=13D622][b]Race:[/b][/color] Huma
[color=13D622][b]Birthplace:[/b][/color] Silach
[color=13D622][b]Occupation:[/b][/color] Performer
[color=13D622][b]Affiliation(s):[/b][/color] None
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[center][sup][color=a9a9a9]Until I get the primer up, which will better explain things about the world and the people in them, I would refrain from working on your character sheet too much.[/color][/sup][/center][/hider]