Information

Baruchel has a minion!

Corrath the Bonedancer

Baruchel
Legacy Name: Baruchel

The

Lilac Lain
Owner: ~~akaJesse~~

Age: 15 years, 11 months, 1 week

Born: July 1st, 2010

Adopted: 14 years, 1 month, 1 week ago

Adopted: May 1st, 2012

Statistics

Level: 217
Strength: 563
Defense: 544
Speed: 510
Health: 557
HP: 436/557
Intelligence: 339
Books Read: 339
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Jeweler

Intro Section

B a r u c h e l
witch doctor

a harpy witch; healer, lore master and knowledge seeker

She is a peaceful shamanic healer with techniques based on the use and practice of herbalism and natural herbalist medicines for purposes of physical and spiritual healing.

About

[Name] Baruchel
[Alias] N/A
[Gender] Female
[Age] Centuries, though appears mid 20s
[Eye Color] bright gold
[Species] black throated magpie jay -- harpy
[Appearance] Black, dark & light blue feathers sprout from her face/head, shoulders, chest, legs and also form a tail. Long, dark hair often tied with red ribbon. Tanned skin.
[Accessories] citrine necklace

[Status] single
[Children] none
[Family] "brother" Devas

[Dislikes]
| most humans | confinement | betrayal |

Story

The weather was beautiful; it was sunny, but not hot enough yet to be bothersome, and fat white clouds dotted the sky. Squirrels chattered amongst one another, disrupting the steady song of birds with their playful antics. A cool breeze drifted over the clear waters of the stream. It smelled clean, fresh and very inviting. For miles around it was nothing but trees and flowers, the colors blindingly bright. In the dead center was a huge willow, its top towering above all else, almost unnaturally so.

Seated beneath said tree was a young woman, basking in the warmth. Her skin was pale and flawless, marred only by long, deep blue and black feathers which seemed to sprout from the most unusual places; her shoulder blades, chest and face all bore the downy plumage. Her attention was riveted to the book she held, while her long, thin fingers played with the red ribbons tied into her dark locks. Sensuous lips were set in an easy smile, painted with an unknown substance. Framed by long lashes were a set of deep golden eyes, centuries worth of knowledge swimming beneath their depths.

The overall setting should have been relaxing and peaceful, but instead it was almost unnatural. Ominous, if you will. It was too manicured, too well cared for. Nothing was overgrown. Instead, tied to the boughs of the willow, were the skulls of dozens of now deceased woodland creatures, and odd bits of sparkling glass. She was, if you believe in the supernatural, part magpie, and as such, hoarded gems and trinkets like a dragon.

Anyone with sense would have stopped and returned home.