Silken
CW: death, undeath, freezing, frostbite, desiccation, spiders, limb loss
Silken remembers only that they died. Not the circumstances that led to it or her life before that, just bitter cold and the thought, "I am dying." They came back to awareness somewhere in the Southern Desolation during the spring thaw, no longer cold and covered in filth. Their limbs were stiff and aching, and she was ravenously hungry. She was so focused on the pain in her body, it was some time before they noticed their arms.
One was frostbitten and desiccated, careful lines of pristine white stitching holding it to her elbow. The other was missing at the shoulder, and in its place was a woven prosthetic, also made of brilliant white silk.
Eventually, a Mythalenairran trader found them and took them home to Lyra Basin. Silken could barely move and had little control over their body. Determined, she apprenticed to a weavers' guild to discipline agility into her undead fingers and trained with the votaries to build strength in her undead body. After extensive meditation and physical therapy, Silken regained full use of their own form and discovered they had some control over whatever forces supported their unlife. From the frostbitten hand, she can push out energy in the form of tiny spiders that stitch together the unhealthy places in a person's body. From the silk hand, she can exude spiders of frost that spread icy necrosis.
The more control she gained, the prouder she grew. Silken doesn't know why they have a second chance at life, but they refuse to squander it. They've mastered both skill and craft, and they intend to share that mastery with another. She just has to find someone worthy.
Personality
Anyone should pride themselves on returning from the dead, and any additional accomplishment after that is nearly miraculous, or so Silken believes. They have accomplished so much since actually dying, it would be wasteful to keep these talents to themself. They rose rapidly through the ranks of the Lyra Basin Weavers' Guild, becoming a master weaver in just a few years. They trained so devotedly with the faithful that their entire community was suprised when they didn't join the Web. Silken even developed the dexterity to play the large harps common among Lyran musicians.Silken has no idea who or what they were before they died, or why they are no longer dead. The singular grain of doubt she carries takes the shape of that uncertainty. Sometimes they wonder if their talents are only a result of whatever forces are animating them, but ultimately they don't believe the answer matters. Whether her abilities are her own or those of some strange power, her skills are still worth sharing with the world.
It's important to Silken that they continue to improve. If they could discover life after death, what else waits beyond their current limits? In all things, from craft to combat to ki, Silken wants to push just a little bit further, just to see what's next.
Presentation
Silken presents a striking figure. Their skin is icy white with blotches of black frostbite on their nose and extremities. One arm is woven entirely of brilliant white silk, while the other appears dead to the elbow. Her eyes are pure black, and her hair is perfectly straight and smooth, the same pristine white as the silk on their arms. They are frightfully thin and carry a high, cold energy in their smile.They had an entire wardrobe of magnificently embroidered clothing before leaving the Basin, but now they carry only a couple of high-necked, sleeveless tunics with intricate scenes of winter and wildflowers woven across them, as well as flowing trousers wrapped tight against the calves. She favors whites, creams, and palest blues.
While they don't have the odor expected of someone covered in desiccated flesh, Silken refuses even the assumption that she might smell bad. Nestled carefully in their pack are a few vials of wildflower perfume from the Lyran meadows.
Besides the tattered clothes on their back, Silken came to with another instrument: a staff made of a petrified spider's leg. It was an integral part of their training and physical therapy after coming to the Basin and they hope to pass it on to their successor.
Fighting Style
Silken never stops moving across the battlefield. They flit from one enemy to another, evading clumsy blows and wide shots. They'll never admit it, not even to themself, but tapping into their ki hurts. Painful, irregular twitches pulse in their fingers and toes for a few seconds every time they expend their energy. The twitches don't seem to be getting worse as her power grows, but they certainly aren't going away either.
Ethnicity
Age
Unknown
Children
Pronouns
they/she
Gender
femme-ish
Presentation
thoughtlessly feminine
Eyes
all black
Hair
waist-length and perfectly smooth, bright white
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
icy white, with dark patches of frostbite
Height
1.3m
Weight
waifish
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