'Fire has been my undoing, now let it be my salvation.'

[Appearence]:
Odd, hazel eyes that almost appear yellow meet yours as they lift to regard you from beneath a low mantle. Robes of finest silk, and linen enshroud a temptingly curved form from view, while allowing a tentative glimpse of a silver icon to dip unseen into the depths of her cleavage, hanging from the pendant of a silver chain.
Her attire is simple, yet elegent in style, inset with fluid designs and symbology that betray her profession as that of a cleric. She carries with her a large heavy flail, the buisiness end inset with enchanted rubies to cleanse decay with fire, and divine energies, each blow resonating with the tremendous impact of a war-priest's blessings. Clearly displayed on her sleeve is the icon of Lathander, The Morninglord. Her robes often the gaudy colours of his faith, the rich gold and red of a dawn sky.
Her frame is one of curves, and feminine whiles, but also a fair amount of muscle. Her once waspish waist now slightly thicker and toned, and shoulders clearly well developed from smiting her enemies with that enormous flail. The way she hefts the large weapon around, lead many to surmise there is a little more to Rheah than meets the eye. Some would swear smoke tumbles from her nostrils at times, and eyes burn a molten hue. But thus far none have proven such claims true.

[History]:
In certain parts of the Spine of the World, there are tales of a creature born from the union of a dragon, and a human. Their child, a terrible half-breed that stole daughters in the night, and livestock from the farms. Eventually it became such a menace a host was assembled to find the lair of the beast, and drive it from the lands of the Cold Wood. The warriors climbed the mountain paths, to ascend the foothills of the spine towards the caverns thought to be it's lair. They entered the caves with torches, and steel. Only to find a scene of horror. The creature rose from it's hunch over a victim uttering a terrible roar from it's lips to charge down the invaders to it's home. Claws and teeth, fire and fury - met with the cries of men and singing swords. Men were left dead, wounded and mauled, but with a final, shuddering breath the land was freed of the raging half-kin.
Picking amoungst the caverns, they found scared victims of the creatures lust, and amusement. Several having bore it's young in the long years of the thing's tyranny, and many more served as a meal to sate it's hunger. Of the young children freed from the caverns that day, the people of the spine could not be usre which one's were the creature's lineage. And, which were the victims of kidnap. So, all were spread throughout the villages and kept an eye upon for signs of madness, and oddity.
Rheah, is the descendant of one of these daughters of the talon - as they are called in the Cold Wood - the blood the dragon lingering in her veins, but mostly dormant. None-the-less she has fought long and hard to free herself of the stigma surrounding herself, and left for the southern lands, to find a new life. That journey has bought her to you now, and this is where that tale now continues.