It has more than once been commented upon that the opening of the gates has brought forth all sorts of folks, and this woman is no exception. Lenore is an earthy young woman seemingly living completely alone in the swamps and bayous of the lands that lie beyond the city wall. She is an unorthodox, eccentric woman who meanders the wilds and civilized lands of the island, with discreetness and heedfulness; evidently no stranger to the worldview  and culture of the denizens of Blacksteel.



The woman stands a respectable 5'3" with an voluptuous figure accentuated by corsets often worn and toned yet supple muscles. The feminine silhouette below the long slender neck swells to a full bust donning a pair of sumptuous breasts, buxom though not overtly large. On down from her tapered waist and slightly lean tummy swell curvaceous hips supporting a heart-shaped, generously rounded arse that sway invitingly beneath short skirts. Her shoulder-length, wavy hair a fire-red that dances in the breeze like flames. Those locks always worn loosely framing a rather alluring face with pouty, ruby colored lips, a slightly upturned nose set between high cheekbones, and a pair of emerald green eyes surrounded by long lashes and dark eye make-up that draw a person's gaze. One would see of her form not covered with clothing lustrous, bleached, flawless skin and hands sporting carefully manicured nails painted in evergreens that compliment her eyes as well as the nails upon her feet should one catch her barefoot to notice. Should any imperfections mar the form of the exquisite looking woman, such would not be readily seen by most. The woman moves always in a serene, dignified manner and speaks with a fiesty yet sultry voice. However, she does appear a woman capable of holding her own despite her vixenish presentation.



With an coy smile and enchanting demeanor, the woman carriers herself with a poised confidence and without a care in the world, though often this is quite contrary to reality. In speaking to her one would easily surmise she is not of the city. The woman though quite cordial and really rather bewitching might, however, be off-putting to some given the cryptic words a person would hear coming from those full lips. Her style of clothing gives yet another indication of the sort of woman she is, favoring mostly simple, short dresses of evergreens and blacks that accent her eyes which are narrow yet flowing enough to allow for brisk, effortless movement, waist hugging corsets of various styles, fishnet hosiery upon her legs only, heeled ankle-high boots, and a simple wrap about her shoulders at times. Regardless of what attire the woman wears on any given day, rare is she seen out and about without her signature hip pouches hanging upon both sides, her pointed-hat encircled with feathers of ebony and thorned red roses, and a curious ring of green-speckled bloodstone on each hand held in place by gold settings. In fact, some might come to say these last three pieces are a sort of trademark for the woman. One would not oft see her wearing anything else save were she to engage in a hunt or in other particular situations.



The pleasant scent of sweet, spicy evergreens with a defining musk of various herbs in particular sage left in her wake; with an bewitching batting of her lash-adorned eyelids and an enticing upward curve of her lips, the woman roams the lands offering few words to most whom she passes. Truth be told, there is an obvious aire of mystery about her. A great many secrets remain held sacred by the woman. Loathe is she to divulge knowledge regarding herself nor her history within the city walls.  In many ways quite the bewilderment among its denizens, to know anything further though one would have to converse with her.



"Thee I invoke by the moonlit sea, by the standing stone and the twisted tree. As above so below, so mote it be."