The Storm Hag
high, high, the storms come without warning
NAME Irileth RACE Maormer ALIASES The Storm Hag GENDER Female ORIENTATION Bisexual OCCUPATION Witch | Healer CURRENTLY RESIDES High Isle AGE Early 70s BIRTHSIGN Morning Star EYES Milky SKIN Pale HAIR Stormy HEIGHT 5'11" BUILD Willowy
Irileth seems as if she has been cobbled together from seafoam and brine. She stands, tall and willowy, with wild waves of mottled silver. Her skin is pale, almost translucent in the sunlight, with thick, swirling lines inked in navy, that swim about her limbs. Like the majority of her kin, Irileth's eyes are a vacant, milky white. Though, when moonlight spills over her, there is the occasional flash of iridescence, a lingering magic, waiting to flow forth.But, there can be no such catharsis. To call forth a tempest is to break a sacred vow. And so, until her penance is duly paid, silence must be her shroud, and gnawing inaction her solemn creed. By necessity, she must surrender the gifts of Mother Sea to claw back her birthright.In her solitude Irileth has found wisdom, startling patience, and feels keenly the toll of her seething, aching, rage. Injustice threatens to cloud what little compassion she has left, and hatred to consume what remains of her heart.
youth in pyandonea
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exile to current
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common
"I spit on her memory. She a disgrace to the Sorcerer King, an breaker of those most sacred vows of my kin. She will kill again."
Pyandonea, circa 2E 590"Ey made the mistake of looking her in the eye...there's nothing...no soul, just emptiness. I swear it, the Hells have no fury like that of the Sea when those damn fish start stirring up a tempest."
Vastyr, circa 2E Date 582 "Ah, I dare not speak her name, but she...she could conjure a storm in mere minutes...I have seen so few like her in my years. A great loss to his eminence's navy.”
Pyandonea, circa 2E 586
rare
"She was kind to me, when I needed it most... and without coin or question crafted a poultice of seaweed... and spun magic that filled my mind with whispers and waves."
High Isle, circa 2E 585 "There were twenty and five souls aboard the Leviathan’s Edge, of them, two survived...and one prisoner of war..."
Pyandonea, circa 2E 592
common
The Storm Hag - Whether it be at a muttered rumor whilst sharing a pint at the Jaded Ornaug, or perhaps a foreboding tale passed along in Gonfalon, many a grizzled sailor suggests that one might do well to avoid the Old Belaroux Light, and the cruel, traitorous sea witch who makes her home there.
→ Has your character found themselves adrift near the coast of High Isle? Perhaps, they might wish to see if the rumors are true...Brine Blessed - A devout worshipper of Mother Sea, Irileth practices the old magics, rituals and spells passed down, and whispered by waves. She sings the songs of her people, unfettered by perception and time, letting only the lapping waves guide her practice.
→ Seeking one well versed in the undertow? Look no further than she who will craft an enchant, or provide a potion under the keen, watery of Mother Sea.Kinslayer - Amongst those Maormer who frequent Pyandonea, the terms of Irileth's banishment still elicit whispers. Those who knew her recall her promise, her technical ability. Did she not have the making of an accomplished Tide Caller? And, to those whose family were claimed by Mother Sea? She is a traitor to the King, a weak minded fool for whom death would be mercy.
→ *If is a truth, this is no doubt a common point of contention in Maormer society. Or, perhaps it is nothing more than a hard hitting jab from a jaded Altmer. *
rare
Teacher of the Tides - Above all, Mother Sea teacher. Her lessons come to those who choose to listen to an unrelenting, howling north wind, or a wave bashing flotsam against rock. Other lessons lap gently at the shore, perhaps a perfectly proportioned whelk, or tidal pool teaming with life. And so, Irileth would seek to claim that mantle. To commune, to guide, to learn what she might of duality.
→ Does your Maormer seek a tutor in the arcane, a steadying hand amongst the waters and magicks of life? Lest you forget, hermits make the best instructors.Seer of the Drowned Deep - In her dreams, the murky depths of the sea churn, spitting froth, and whirling sediment between each watery inhale and exhale. In those moments, all inky black, and silent, Irileth can hear the cries of those whom the ocean did not wish to return. Those who Mother Sea has brought to dwell in her court of unrelenting night. Their cries, a chorus of aching voices reaching, yearning, come to her more often than she would dare admit.
→ Death becomes her...perhaps there is someone your character has lost...? Requires prior ooc discussion.
Thalassea
lover
"I should not have been there, and you should not have lived."
Vorillion
brother
"It is a danger to know me, and yet, he persists."
Serai Nestal
acquaintance
"When I carried her body from the waves, I thought her dead. I am not so thoroughly displeased to say I was wrong."