Cressiel

They say she has ice in her veins- the cold glint of her frostgold hair, the way she shrugs off the winter storms- but above all, the way she seems to project an empathetic void around herself. Oh, she'll cook up a potion for what ails you, scribble out a sigil or carve out mysterious- meaningless- runes into stone that will assuage your fears, but only for a price. And she is the one who deems what is reasonable. An arm and a leg? Don't tell me you thought that was just a turn of phrase. She's heard every sad story, and never shed a tear. Why should she care about yours? They say, however, that empathy is the art of seeing through the eyes