Background for my winter witch.

Navanya was born on a different plane. And around the time she turned sixty war had broken out and spread far and wide causing great despair. Due to her lack of caution and general aloofness toward most things, her father sent her on a quest to find her mother. Under the impression that her mother was cast out when she gave birth to her, Navanya willingly takes up the hunt, packing up her few things and leaving with her familiar, Talfan the white owl, decorated in the same arcane marks that the girls skin is. The truth however is that her mother died giving birth to Navanya and from the beginning she was told otherwise, thanks to the spinelessness of her own father.

The stories her father told her were that of a glorious, powerful witch that changed things for the better on their own plane and others. She spoke to animals and creatures of all kinds. Soft, caring, but stern; kind, diplomatic, but stealthy. Though her father lied for years and years, he did still give her a strong woman to look up to. So much so that Navanya had begged to for look for her for years. Now she was being given the opportunity.

Navanya is living in the woods to the south of the city in a sort of hut, molding and blending in perfectly with its surroundings. It’s been six years and as a young adult Navanya has become comfortable and stagnant, having too much fun playing cat and mouse with likely candidates. Any and all creatures intrigue and entertain her, minus the ifrites. Their short fuse is amusing but only until its fully burned and then she becomes annoyed. Because of her great dislike for the flaming beings she has begun to lean toward the colder side of spells and hexes.

She spends a lot of time trying to learn about anything and everything. Not just for the intelligence, but for the entertainment. Such things as laws are jokes to her. Why do something because another person just like yourself told you too? That sounds ridiculous. She’s prone to tiny fibs about her name, background, and anything else. It’s not that she’s guarded but more of the fact that she loves watching the reactions of others. Her curiosity and desire to rial people up can get her into a few scuffles as she doesn’t always know when to just. Stop.

Her race has aided in being very alluring and attractive. There’s a beauty to the sylphs that most creatures (save the ifrites) don’t quite understand or always know if they actually like it. However some people can’t help but be effected by her strange beauty. Thin and frail looking, she is anything but.

For about a week Talfan has been begging the young girl to consider continuing on her quest for her mother. All ruffled feathers and occasional disgruntled screeching has been enough to convince her. Begrudgingly she has begun to pack up her home, at least the things she needs and is planning to head to town one last time for a bit of amusement and familiarity before saying goodbye.

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