+Family:
Lrilanya's father is unknown and her mother is unknown.
She has no brothers and has the following sisters: Shanath (deceased).
She has not yet Recognized, and has no lifemates.
She has no cubs.
She was of House Garado lineage.
Description:
Resembling her sister in everything save height and build, Lrilanya seems to be the very definition of pale. Her face is the shape of an elongated heart, her eyes large and bright, the color of ice with the faintest touch of blue. Her skin is moonlight pale, with white strands of hair serving as a silky frame that pulls back from her face save two wispy curls, the rest bound in a headdress made of gray metal beaten into intricate patterns that mimic the winding of vines. She is taller than her sister was, and an inch or so taller than many other Underworlders, yet the most striking thing about her appearance is her build. It cannot be described as thin or slender; she is skinny and deathly so. Her cheekbones jut out and her eyes seem sunken when her mood permits it. Her fragile form is clothed in white robes, the first impossibly tight so that it appears to be choking her. Only the skirt is free enough to allow her legs movement, and she moves as fluidly as any other. The light touches of blue in the fabric are enough to highlight her rib cage - so thin is she that each and every rib could be counted - and her collarbone. She wears a second robe over it, a darker blue that is lighter in material and looser in its hold on her, and a third robe still, this one kept open like a long overcoat, its sleeves falling past her slender hands. Her hands are hidden in white gloves, their fingertips smudged slightly with dirt.
For all her apparent frailness, Lrilanya possesses a sort of inner strength that betrays it all. Her lips are thin and her voice is quiet when spoken; her sending, in contrast, is sharp and defined. Often, there is an aura of emotion about her, yet very few can tell what sort of emotion that might be.
Background: (at a glance..)
The Houses have begun to breed with one another, yet some still bear children within the same bloodline. The House of Garado is no exception. A pair of elves, names forgotten, bred together and bore two daughters, one named Lrilanya and the other named Shanath. Shanath was the youngest, barely a handful of centuries, while Lrilanya had long since fallen into the quiet repetitiveness that had become her parents's lifestyles. She became a pale wraith, gossamer and deathly thin in appearance. Her eyes were unnaturally silver and always possessed a haunted look. After the first millenia of her life, healers became a common sight around her chambers, and often they would leave with bloodied knives that would be washed and quickly disposed of. Tiny scars dotted her wrists and she took to wearing gloves to hide her shame.
She hindered the House of Garado and the other members made her know it. Even her parents all but disowned her. Silent, sad and quiet, Lrilanya withdrew entirely, a pale shadow against the dark stone walls. She did nothing more to hinder the House, but she did nothing to strengthen it either. Lrilanya became forgotten, a faceless name among the records, until even her name was forgotten. It wasn't that she disappeared like so many others have, lost within the labyrinth tunnels - she was always there. Everyone knew she was there. But that's all that she was - there.
Centuries passed, then millenia, until sudden life burst within the House of Garado. Lrilanya came out of hiding as she was summoned, and watched in almost dull wonder as her parents brought forth a second daughter. This one gave forth a lusty howl, unlike Lrilanya, who had only whimpered in silent tears. They named the white-haired daughter Shanath.
It was as if someone had slapped her. Lrilanya awoke from her emotionless state, all but stealing the little one from her parents's arms as she grew fond and close to the small one. Shanath was alive in a way that very few Underworlders were. She laughed, she danced, and she took an unnatural liking to the trolls. Lrilanya watched Shanath like a phantom, a shadow that was always there. She held Shanath as she cried, she smiled when she cracked weak jokes, and she was always there in Council, a silent second to her words. She was there when Shanath's hands were severely mangled by the accident, and she was there when Master Kytek presented her with the title of Mistress of the Trolls.
But she remembers a time..