Lady Vesper Nighthawk
"War is the constant. Peace is to rearm."
Social Rank: 5
Concept: Sword of Brassfall March
Religion: Pantheon & Shamanism
Vocation: Noble knight
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Stormy Gray
Skintone: Freckled Fair
Description:     Honed through study and knight training; she has a compact and well-muscled athletic body. Long, lean lines and well-toned muscles give her an unusual panther-like stalking grace when she moves. Freckles appear everywhere like ground-in dirt or dried blood spatter that stand out against her ivory complexion. Her hair is dark brown, what the poetic would kindly call mahogany or russet, and pulled into a hasty bun or braid. She has a narrow, square-jawed face that has become more angular as the heart-shaped softness of youth has faded. She has a strong brow with thin and straight eyebrows, angular cheekbones, and gray eyes that give her a predator's gaze. She bears the marks of being roughened up by experience in the field: broken and poorly healed with a raised welt across the bridge of her hawkish nose, her wry mouth has been bisected by the thin weal of a vertical scar.
Personality:     Habitually constant in her frame and posture is a ready violence barely contained. When she focuses her attention to a task, her stormy gray eyes snap with a fierce sharpness; the intense look of a raptor as it spots prey. When she speaks it's with a similar tense energy, and she has a habit of gesticulating expressively with calloused, scarred hands.
Background:     Her father was a cousin from a cadet branch of the Nightgold family out in Stonedeep. Her mother was a from a similarly distant branch of the Hawkmours that had come from Brassfall March. North met south in the capital city one summer and unified in a marriage of mutual love and desire to ally, creating their own small family: Nighthawk. By that winter, on an evening that heralded the birth of their only child, Vesper, Lord Nighthawk gained his heir - but lost his wife. Vesper entered the world, squalling, and covered in the blood of her dying mother.     Her father was taciturn and serious, but he probably had one soft spot -- and one that he was overly protective -- his daughter. The son he wanted turned into the daughter he had but that still did not stop him from ensuring she knew how to protect herself. If she were to be his heir she would know how to balance being a Lady and being a Knight. So, she learned to fight with a sword as well as dance. She was taught history and religion, though a broad overview of both the Pantheon and shamanistic practices, not one specifically, so she could know enough of the Faith and bargain well with the Abandoned. Like her father she was an intimidating woman when she needed to be and he found, when he let her take up some of the trade bargaining, that she had a good intuition and perspective for judging people.     Of course, teaching her was a problem when she was not sneaking away to listen to the rangers talk about the best places to go hunting and learning various survival skills if she were to be caught out on her own. One even took up teaching her to ride while fighting, and a bit of brawling -- but her Father did not want to know about that. Sometimes, her father would wonder, behind that stern countenance, if she had any heart at all anymore. Then he would catch her in moments when she thought she was alone ? singing off-key while she strummed a broken mandolin with two strings, that she found out in the woods chasing a deer on horseback.     Yes, his little girl was quite a thing and... he was proud of her. She would make a wonderful woman, with no regrets that she is not the proper Lady. With her father's blessing, Sir Nighthawk sets out to return to the capital city of Arx to seek her future as a knight or Sword to her mother's Hawkmour kin if they have need - or seek a new venture for herself as a mercenary for hire.