Jael's transformation from battle-worn cleric to that of a more refined and regal priestess had been slow at first though now there was little more change to undergo: she was a new woman, one who stood tall and proud with the faintest of smirks always seeming to play at the corners of her thin lips.

The woman's eyes were of a perpetually bright golden hue now sure to catch any nearby ambient light and and sparkle in reflection. Her hair still cascaded long and thick down her shoulders though it had lost it's formerly warm hazel color - the silken strands were black as pitch now as though it reflected her recent change in  demeanor. A pair of dark horns jutted up from her skull, bony and black and drawn to sharp little points as they curled back along the top of her head.

Two piercings, small ruby studs, lay in either of the girl's earlobes now along with a golden labret placed between lower lip and the point of her chin. An onyx chain hung from her neck though it no longer bore the signs of Ilmater and Tyr one could have expected from her previously, only a small metal hexagon dangling from the necklace now.

Jael's skin was free of the pale scars and bruises that spotted her body from before and was instead replaced by a healthy tan. Her hands and feet were free of callouses now and as soft and smooth as any noble-born might find their own. The grey of powder no longer colored her cheeks and was instead replaced by a light cover of   blush while her oft-worn frown was turned bright with a careful application of lipstick.

Still, she wore the heavy double-barreled pistol on her hip concealed in a holster of supple black leather and loaded with cartridges and fresh flint in the hammer wherever she might go. Spare powder and ammunition sat in small pouches nearby, opposite the hip that bore a pair of sheathes for a long- and shortsword of rather plain make.

She smelled vaguely of peppermint. Peppermint and the chalky air of gunpowder.