Unkempt fair hair, light brown skin... and a pair of piercing blue eyes enhanced by dark mud (or kohl). Her default expression is to glare at something or someone.

Although a half-elf, Shayra thinks of herself as a wild elf who happens to have a human father.

Still, Shayra always knew she was different to other wild elves. She was the product of her mother's dalliance with a human bard, which got her bullied by other young wild-elves growing up. That helped her learn to spot trouble, but also led to her spending more and more time on her own in the forest and away from the tribe. She distrusts civilisation almost as much as a barbarian does.

Until she got the letter, she had no idea her father's name was Alfons Bartel. Living in the depths of the Great Forest, she'd never heard of him, and was inclined to use the letter for kindling. But there was something about it that stayed her hand. Maybe it was time she visited a city and learned about 'civilisation', whatever that was. It sounded like a disease.

Her family name translates as Silverbrook. She'll answer to that as well as Siandon, finding the sound pleasing.





Writing sample

Shayra frowned as she studied the dress in her hands.

"Why do I have to wear this garment?"

The maid sighed, and wondered if she could get a raise from Brogno the tavern keeper for dealing with the truculent elf.

"Please, miss. It wouldn't be appropriate to visit the temple of Ayaress wearing..."

Her voice trailed away to a gesture indicating Shayra's rags and animal skins.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?"

Definitely time to ask about that raise.

"Please, miss. It's considered polite in our... tribe."

That usually worked with barbarians. Even the grumpiest accepted that different tribes had different rules.

Shayra reluctantly nodded, then looked past the maid to the room beyond. A bath had been drawn for her. The half-elf needed it: already, her smell of leaf-mold was filling the room. But Shayra eyed the steaming bath suspiciously.

"Are you trying to cook me?"