Adthea Fleuris

Daughter of Indogalad

Description:

Theme: Ghost of the Tavern, Jeremy Soule.

Soft cheeks, fair skin, delicate hands and eyes like a pool in spring. Adthea is as lovely as a young elf maiden can be. Most of the time, the beauty of the elves is in their unearthly combination of youthful allure and ancient light—but for those with eyes for such things, Adthea is young. Too young to have left her home, but older than a human child, she has only the bright glow of a flower in the morning sun. The potential of hundreds of years of life is palpable in the air around her.

Even though she lacks the storied wisdom of the elves, the force of her spirit burns through in the amber Fleuris eyes. She asks a lot of questions and toys with everything and everyone around her, delighting in the process of discovery, seeing how things work, understanding and comprehending. This can, however, be bewildering to newcomers or guests, and quickly turns into what seems like teasing or deliberate provocation. She does not always smile, but never frowns.

As befits the young daughter of a royal house, Adthea dresses in the fantastic textiles of elven production—silks, furs, natural fibres spun through elvish artistry to be impossibly soft. She changes frequently to match the prevailing styles or even to adjust for a change in the eternal autumn light. Her acoutrement and jewelry also changes from moment to moment, though she favors certain baubles highly over others, including her rings and earrings. The occasional cantrip or glamer to add unearthly light or colorful shimmers to her garb complete the picture.

Whether at the most formal of diplomatic events or in the middle of a wild dance, Kuile, her favorite pet, always accompanies her. He is a strange squirrel with a magnificent tail, a gem crest on his brow, and a horn. Kuile is clearly magical and serves as both her familiar and her friend. His habit of batting at or chewing on whatever jewelry she wears is highly distracting.

Bio:

Adthea Fleuris

Carmichael Chronicles TormentedbyGnomes