Ano'rel Sunfrost-Whitestar

=Description=

There is an old saying, we have all heard it once or twice, in our schooling and in every day life.

“Never judge a book by it's cover.”

You do not know what stories can be told. What really lies written on the pages of the tome, much like that you can not see with in a person to judge them on appearance alone.

Yet... there is the common distaste of what she is, compared to who she is. The common snide remark, the scrunched up nose, the distasteful glares, and most commonly rude behaviors. It hasn't been too long since the fall of the Lich King, and it hasn't been too long since the encounter that tempted the fate of the Sin'Dorei Race. This woman was a walking reminder, much like any Knight that stood and fell.

While eying past the distaste and thoughts, that may be occurring, and actually took the time to notice the woman and not who or what she was. Standing no taller then your average female Sin'dorei, the woman didn't have a perfect hour-glass frame. Standing tall, her back straight, it would be noticed that, her chest was your average size, her waist narrowed a bit before meeting her hips that were wider then her bust size. If the woman was still alive, she would have been well off at child birth. If she was living. Yet we digress in our thinking!

Bits of skin shows here and there, peaking delicately from under her plated armor. Suppose if one would catch her with the lack of such, her mildly tanned skin would show the means of her death and many other stories of war, battles, and personal inflictions. Along her abdomen, a ragged vertical scar that seemed to have been caused by a claymore-like sword, mere centimeters away from her belly button. Along her sides, her back, and ever her appendages, there are nicks and cuts. Some scars that are lighter then the skin, others seemed to be sewn up still. But of course, the life of the will-less being tends to bring out the pains and scars of war and combat.

Glancing up to meet one's gaze, showing her face to a stranger. Under the mask, the hood, the helm, a soft glow of the eyes. Winter blue in color, holding a light grasp of lavender, yet hold strong to the color that can rival  any other of her profession and even the tendrils of the cursed blade itself. If one was closer, close enough to see completely under what ever obscures one's vision, then there are three deep, almost disfiguring scars that run along her left cheek bone. As if a fist weapon of some type tore open the skin at a slight parallel to her eye line.

If she chose to, removing the very thing that obscures the sight of her face in anyway. A mildly wavy mane of silver blond hair would fall around her shoulders, catching the glow of the sunlight... or moonlight, really depending on the time of day or night. Though even with a hood on, some of her hair tends to escape, peak out with a little movement here or there.

So don't let your judgment get the better of you, she won't bite. Well, maybe a little if push comes to shove. Besides the point, the woman is mild tempered and rather well mannered. Get to know her, she might open up more then an abomination decorating the streets.

Items of Interest
Walking with a hollowed look with in her eye, she looked lost. The past that haunts her, the past that she seemed to have lost. A happiness that she has lost. Resting around her neck in a delicate chain was a ring. A ring that symbolized her marriage to a man like no other. The man that is lost to her it seems. The ring itself was white gold, a clear gem in the middle that reflects her mood with any color. Surrounded by five smaller gemstones. One red like the fires, one blue like the seas and magic, one green like the lush forest, one yellow like the sands, and one dark almost black like the stones of the mountains. It truly was the Heart of the Aspects, at least that is what it was called.

On ether sides of the ring, a set of earrings. The hooks bent around and locked onto the chain so they didn't get lost. The earrings themselves were a little craft project... one with her daughter long ago.. She wasn't her real daughter, her daughter by marriage. Yet held a special place with the woman’s undead heart. Collected Sea Shells from a picnic … on the shores of Eversong, not to far from her old home. A ship off the coast. Which she often goes back to many times if her family was still there. Everything collected in dust and pain.

Hair: Mid back- blondish silver Eye: Lich Blue with a hint of lavender Lots of Scars Tattoos: -A blood Drop in front of a snowflake, falling to a small pile of bells on her right hip. -On her back, there seems to be tendrils inked in a delicate manner, a few shades darker then her own skin color. These tendrils seem to moved to her sides and down her arms in ways that seem to enhance ones appearance. Status: Single for the most part, yet still looks for her family. Items of Interest: Neclace with a ring and earrings on it.

=History=

(Work in Profession)

Titles
(Work in Progress)

Captian Hemomancer Frosty

=Personality=

(Work in Progress)

Relationships
(Work in Progress)

Extra
Hemomancer: One uses blood in their magic. Lynn is a Blood/Frost Death Knight. Even though she is in Frost spec, her main spec is blood. I am, however, not using Hemomancing as a God-Modding tool. It does not work that way. One can not simply control the blood in a living body, yet once the body is dead, the control starts there. As a Hemomancer, she can use the blood of the dead to heal her own wounds, again, another thing that will not be God-Modded while in role play.

Own's a Ship called: Wandering Damnation Part of the Bell's Heel Pirate Fleet.