Myyr Burakh

New member
Weaver
Age  ???
Gender  ???
Origin  ???
The real Myyr Burakh of Anchor Hill is dead — has been, for the past hundred years.
And yet, they remain, even with that tinge of an unplaceable accent intact.

Begs the question how, but more so— Why?

And who pulls the strings now, berobed.
 

Appearance

Height  5'11''
Build  thick
Hair  no
Eyes  little fires


myyr.png

- scaled skin, the gaps of which ripple and flare with an emotive luminance like that of an inner furnace
- no sharp edges, made soft by an indulgent life, apart from the clawed hands that reach, touch and interface without abandon
- empty eyesockets, both with their own little fire to signify attention
- robed in vibrant layers, all loose and billowy, bejeweled in gold or brass — no silver or iron, as they cause burning and blisters

Personality

Sybaritic // Hospitable // Impatient // Barbed // Inquisitive

Skills

Whispers, Tales
Connections galore trading intellect a world over. A pillar to the magicians' society full of cats, snakes and spiders. Myyr’s business of passion is to know things, always has been, and so they've dedicated themself to pursuit of knowledge on any which trivial whim. Meanwhile, of them, much tale is told and yet very little is confirmed.

Cabinets, Caskets, Closets
An admirer of culture, craft and all manner of curiousities, from artifacts to volatile magitech. Doesn't hold onto much for long, therein trading and dealing, but perpetual ownership of anything hardly is the point. In experience lies the thrill.
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