Sifir Paleblood

Name: Sifir Paleblood
Age: 20
Exaltation/Caste: Fire Aspect Dragon-Blooded
Affiliations: Coral,
Darkmist Island, Nexus


Bio:

The Coral Archipelago in the West is a horrible place for anyone - especially a woman. Sifir was born the bastard daughter of low-ranking Dynast, who - upon finding out he'd sampled the local flavor of Mantaville a little too enthusiastically, paid the woman to keep her mouth shut on the matter and promptly cut his vacation short. He needn't have bothered too much, in any case. Sifir's mother had no use for a child, and promptly sold the infant to a group of thugs, who lost her in a game of chance to a crew of pirates, who left her with a brothel, who foisted her off on some hapless tourists by drugging her and sneaking her into their luggage. 

All in all, this was a chain of relatively lucky events for Sifir, mostly because none of them were quite callous enough to just throw her into the ocean or something. The tourists found her, worried about what to do for a second, and wound up leaving her in the care of a local martial artist. If this were a different kind of story, she might have grown up learning said Martial Art, but this is a story that starts in Coral. Sifir grew up as a sort of combination servant/decoration for the martial artist, who shortly after her tenth birthday was killed by a rival. Like the rest of his possessions, Sifir passed to his son - who set about making her into a pickpocket, so she could justify the food she wasted by bringing some money in. She wasn't very good at it. 

After a year or two, she tried to escape by cutting her hair short like a boy's and stowing away aboard a pleasure barge headed for anywhere else. If this were a different kind of story, she might have made it to the Blessed and Exalted, proving her worthiness and finding a measure of success among the Realm, but this is a story that takes place in the West. The Bodhisattva Anointed by Dark Water always hungers for more servants - living and dead - to further is goal of destroying Creation. Wraiths and marauders descended upon the pleasure barge, killing all those who raised a hand in defense and capturing those who surrendered. Which was how Sifir came to become a slave on Darkmist Island, in the service of the Darklord, The Silver Prince. 

Truth be told, her time on Darkmist Island wasn't so bad, comparatively. She was a second-class citizen, but all living are second-class citizens, and live beneath the dead.

Sifir, had she been allowed to follow a more natural course, might have Exalted like many Dragon-Blooded - proudly, in her early teens, ready to start a career of prestige and value. She was born with fiery red hair and eyes to match, after all. But her time in the Shadowlands changed something, and as the years went on, Sifir's vitality and flame sputtered and waned. By the time she Exalted in her late teens, her hair was the flat, black shade of ash. Sifir's eyes had taken a dark shade of charcoal. The flames of Hesiesh had sputtered to embers, suppressed by the power of death that pervaded every moment of her life for years.

If this were another sort of story, she might have gathered her newfound power and managed to escape, or led a revolt. But this is a story under the thumb of the Silver Prince, and Darklords are no fools. Sifir's Exaltation meant only that she'd become a slightly more valuable mortal, if only because she was slightly more durable. She was elevated from slave labor to courtesan of the dead and miserable, and there she remained for a couple of years. Eventually, she was given over to an Abyssal and his Lunar 'companion' as servant and plaything. 

Thankfully, even though the Darklords are no fools, they sometimes tend to employ some. Months of being a sponge for bad moods and the like while being dragged across the ocean, and Sifir finally saw her opportunity to escape - land on the distant horizon. She threw herself into the ocean during the night, was deemed not worth chasing after, and was left to her fate, for the time being.

She got lucky, and washed ashore a day or two later - malnourished, penniless, without a weapon or anything more than the threadbare 'clothes' on her back, stranded on the shores of the Scavenging Lands. So all in all, she counted herself lucky - at least she was free, for possibly the first time in her life. 

Sifir managed to make her way to Nexus, nearly dying several times to the countless hazards that the East considers normal flora and fauna. She had very few marketable skills (that she could bring herself to utilize) and so just lied. Constantly. She told fortunes to passers-by for pocket change, she gave portents of luck, love and money, and managed to scrape up enough to set down roots. To this day, Sifir manages to collect a fairly reasonable sum by selling bogus prophecy to the common people - she's far from the most malignant or even worst con artist in Nexus, and tends to be left alone. At some point, she took the name 'Paleblood' as a surname, though it's far from official... mostly just a stage handle.

After hours, though, she's cultivated her connection to the Underworld and the knowledge she absorbed from years of working for, and under, the unhappy dead on Skullspire Island. And her more unsavory practices have made her more coin than busking and reading the cards ever could. If this were a different sort of story, Sifir would be using her knowledge to lay restless ghosts to rest and purify Shadowlands. But it isn't - and if anyone understands that life is unfair and brutal to people arbitrarily, it's Sifir.


Appearance:

Sifir is tall and lean, an Exalted woman of no real remarkable breeding. She often dresses in black, and although she isn't afraid to use her dignified, sometimes elegant looks to get her way, she is typically careful not to show too much skin. Life hasn't been kind to her flesh, after all. Considering how much of her time is spent indoors, how much of her activitiy is conducted at night, and how much time she spent somewhere where the sun is a vague sort of suggestion of light, Sifir is appropriately pale.

Her hair is thick and dark black, although a muted red sheen can present itself in the sunlight. Otherwise, it is the flat shade of charcoal, matching her eyes. Although Sifir has little use for the fashions of the Realm, (since standing out and seeming a little arcane makes her fortune-telling act all the more believable) she does take pride in her appearance and dresses appropriately. It is rare to see her without some manner of makeup on, as well as perfume.

Sifir has only been outside of the West for a year or two, and although she's picked up a bit more lingual variety, she still very much carries the West in her voice. A somewhat mystical accent does help her work, and she's not above playing it up from time to time for her own advantage.


Potential Plot Hooks:

-The Abyssal that Sifir was given to might not have cared that she escaped, but the Silver Prince likely does. Unsavory pirate types might make a pretty coin by delivering her back to the hands of the Underworld, alive or dead.

-Sifir conducts Necromancy for those with the coin to afford it. Talking to the dead, banishing ghosts, and other considerably more unsavory activities. But if you have money and a servant without much strength of will, talk to her; who doesn't want to live forever? That said, some people... most people, think (rightly) that Necromancy is bad news, so she has to keep as low a profile as possible.

-Sifir also has several chums in the Nexus criminal element, and often helps them out - but never to get her own hands dirty. Most commonly, she's summoning a fink from beyond the grave or putting somebody up until things cool down.



Past RPs: