Haille

A cunning thief; on hoards, a blight.

A bullet, on wings of night.

One blink, she's gone,

Conclusions be drawn,

Though ne'er shall she be in thy sight.

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A bandit with a pair of some of the trickiest talons this side of Sornieth has to offer. Though lithe and small-framed even as a Nocturne, Haille is impeccable when it comes to stealth and flying—aforementioned smaller build allowing her to easily weave between any obstacle.

An arcane dragon by lineage, Haille knew nothing of her birth parents—only the insatiable need to know, a characteristic attributed to her flight's deity.

But Haille holds no reverence for the Eleven. They exist, as does she, and she feels no further correlation, living her own life separate from any clan or veneration for those Gods—venturing, stealing, and learning however she pleases. Beholden to few, if any.

Haille is mute, and communicates through gesture and written word, carrying with her a favoured trinket at all times, even though she’s not one for communication in the first place. She has a small case strapped to her back, stuffed with a long scroll stolen from a mage's library. It can be written on with the tip of a talon acting like ink, and whatever is written on it stays for a minute before fading away.

She’s also stolen a star from the same magician for the kicks, but either hasn’t put together that THAT’S why she’s being chased, or doesn’t care.

Somewhere along the way she met the banescale Storme as a baby, and adopted him as a little brother thinking he was an injured nocturne.

He was not.