+Name: Virgin Lover of Glass and Diamond
+Day Caste Abyssal
+Appearance: A woman who can enthrall a man (and quite a few women) with a glance, her unearthly beauty causes an instant change in the social "temperature" when she enters a room. Indeed, she wears the face of Melua Maia Mala, though she no longer goes by that name, but she no longer has an exotic islander look, instead looking forboding and seductive. Her formerly green hair is now blood-red, and hangs straight down, as if lifeless, around her face. Her skin is no longer a shade close to bronze, but a perfect unbroken tone of skin so pale it's almost pure white. She accentuates her look with a one-piece leotard of sorts, cut quite low in the back and inlaid with bones in an oddly aesthetic pattern. She's well aware of how much of her thighs this exposes, but she uses this to her advantage, drawing even more attention with high boots that go up to the knee, and are made of soulsteel and engraved ornately. The same goes for her fingerless gloves (with a black hearthstone set on the back of one), which travel halfway up her upper arms, contrasting the black cloth and soulsteel glove with the white skin of her shoulders, the red hair which drapes them, and the tiny crystal skull earrings she wears. Her disturbingly red lips highlight two tiny white fangs. She maintains a high class of style, frequently meeting with rulers and merchant kings.
Name: Melua Maia Mala
Characterization: Melua is an odd sort, she's calm and self-assured, despite the constant looks she usually gets. She uses her body as a way to get places she wants and to see people she needs to (even if just to kill them afterwards), and she's learned the art of seduction quite well.
She's a good person at heart, but her moral values have been shot to hell; she still wants to help good people, but she no longer cares tremendously about the morality of the acts she herself comits. Still, she never likes to kill, though she will if needed.
Her prefered methodology is to either get someone to do something for her, willingly or unknowingly, it doesn't matter, or to sneak in and do it herself.
She will possibly attack someone if she's pissed enough at what they're saying or what they represent. Though, she also might befriend them and then stab them when they don't expect it.
One of her most secret, private, and most important rituals is extended prayer to the god Vanileth, Shogun of Artificial Flight. (Roll of Glorious Divinity Vol I p 63-66). While praying (which can frequently be an hour or two long of private time) she daydreams about flying, hoping the god will see her thoughts. This ritual is both sacred and extremely embarrassing to her, and she would be very sensitive if anyone found out. (Treat Temperance as 1 when someone makes remarks about this.)
She both dislikes and fears Rabszolga, God of Slaves (Roll of Glorious Divinity Vol I p 58-60), for she knows he is not looking out for the slaves, but the slavers. (Note for Storyteller: There is a HUGE possible plot hook here if you want in the text, and I'm willing to go along with it.)
Physical Description: Flawless - except for one faint collar scar around her neck - bronzed skin, green hair that falls down straight to the bottom of her shoulder blades, brown eyes, slim, lithe flat body (She's a B cup at most). She's around 5' 8" (that's 68 inches if you want to convert). She's drop dead gorgeous, though in an exotic fashion. When she really tries to look good, she seems to glow with the shine of a tropical sun. Her outfit is generally decent looking clothing she lifted it, usually quite revealing, with a traveler's cloak draping over most of her, with a sling on her back to carry her Sky-Cutter under the cloak. The cloak has plenty of pockets, and she also wears a tight-fitting belt around her trim waist, fashionably slung at an angle. (Think Batman's utility belt but not as awesome)
Backstory: Melua was born on an island on the northern part of the Neck, and lived a relatively peaceful life until the age of nine, when a storm destroyed the boat, presumably killing her family. At least, she never found them while clinging to driftwood afterwards. She was found and "saved" by pirates from the Coral Archipeligo, where she was then sold into slavery. Her first owner, though treated her like property like the rest of Coral, was kind enough, and forced her to work as a deckhand at the age of ten on his fishing boat, where her great agility among the ropes made up for her lack of strength. She continued to grow up, worrying about her family, but eventually coming to the fact that they were probably dead. Her lot in life wasn't intolerable...until she hit 17, where the fisherman ran into a string of badluck, and had to sell off some of his assets - including her. Melua, already the talk of the islands for her great beauty, was outbid from all the men who wanted to marry her by one of the best brothels on the main island. She was forced into prostitution as one of their highest class prostitutes, and became even more valued as she grew older. Her humanity became more and more distant, until suddenly, 8 years later, at 25, while entertaining 6 clients who payed for her shared use, she experienced what felt like an orgasm, but far more intense than anything before. The Unconquered Sun stood before her in her mind's eye, and said she was destined to find things lost for centuries, and to bring back a portion of the world's glory. She then suddenly knew instinctively where she had to go. Two places: A small island not too far, and <where ever sws is going to start us>.
Witnesses say that one lone woman strode out, naked, of the burning down brothel house. She could not be recognized, because she was covered in hideous amounts of blood. The only feature most witnesses remembered besides the ghastly blood was the gold circle crest, tinged with purple, of the Wretched Anathema. While 6 victims could not be identified, nor could the cause of their death (so little of them remained), the owner of the brothel was found not to have died in the fire, but from extreme terror. His genitals seem to have been forcefully ripped off while he was alive, and - though this is uncertain due to the damage to the corpse caused by the fire - seems to have been held down while he screamed and bled out, and then posthumously had his throat torn open by what appears to be nothing but human hands.
Melua, in her makeshift bikini and stolen small boat, eventually beached on the island she saw. She walked up to the craggy small cliff, touched a spot, and flared with Essence for a moment. The cliff glowed in the shape of a doorway, and opened. She walked in.
An hour or so later, several hundred feet below the surface, she emerged from a series of tunnels into a structure and was rendered speechless. It was a manse, with an untouched hearthstone, along with a cache of First Age devices. And it was a throbbing, high powered manse, she could feel it. Unfortunately, most of the artifacts were in need of maintanence and repair, but she felt awe just looking at them. She could feel the majesty and glory of past days. And some of them...yes, some of them looked like wings and other flying things that one could wear. This caused a flutter in her heart, as she abandoned her dream, to fly in the sky with total freedom, held long as a child, due to the harsh realty of her imprisonment.
She later left that cave, and sealed it, with the possibly repairable machines still locked inside. She was wearing the hearthstone mounted on a talisman mount she found inside, and felt so ALIVE from her new connection to that sanctuary below the ocean. She got back inside her boat, and quietly pushed away, staring at the sky.
Melua was now 26, after the many months of her journey. She had been a crew member or passenger on countless boats - legitimately and illegitimately - and ridden on many beasts. She had taken offers to spend the night at good houses, used her body to find a soft bed in greedy ones, and outright stolen supplies from others. She'd broken into countless libraries at night to research the First Age, and listened to many folk-tales from the elderly. Perhaps the best find she'd had was the information one of her lovers about a strange war boomerang being shipped by a merchant. She'd relieved him of the valuable find, and it was now one of her favored weapons. She sighed as she crossed the borders of <whereever the fuck we are>. She'd finally made it, not that she knew why she was here...
YES I WROTE ALL OF THAT NO I DID NOT PROOFREAD IT
EDIT: Any changes I make to this will be added by +s for additions or strikeouts for deletions.
EDIT: "Updated my Journal" Oh wait, I'm not the nameless one. Update to reflect her new status.