Player: Ace (they/he)
About: There is little to tell you of Siofra Al-Amin, for there is little here to know. A woven cloak and tangled, curling hair of copper, oak and ivy hides fair skin, pockmarked with several lifetimes’ worth of scars. A tilted head masks the sullen gaze of eyes far older than the body they inhabit, and harbouring memories far more sinister than the history they will share.
Words are few and far between, but polite and punctual in their brevity. There is a perfected poise about their figure, and conversation is fleeting and vacant in almost every instance. Almost.
When he asks, Siofra asks only for truth. They cannot tolerate deception. For to deny this changeling his path, to be caught in the crossfire of a calculated interrogation, to stand between a ravenous question and its sating answer, would be to provoke an ire at which the gods could only marvel.