Anariel
Anarel is a feral looking wood elf, the subtle and beautiful tattoos on her face and arms reflecting her refined and beautiful land from where she arrived from. Her demeanor though is anything but refined, her over enthusiastic greetings, embraces and hasty words often heard. She bears the look of someone who was just "too much" for her kin - and has often proved to be since her arrival from "Rawlin.. Great Vale" as she puts it.
She is rarely heard to speak more than the absolutely simplest of common words, badly pronounced names of places and people, who she rarely remembers outside of their actions.
Her armour is fairly new with not much signs of repair, a dark brown and red splint mail covering her fairly well though often covered in blood, whether it is hers or her enemies noone can be sure - and blood she has a lot of as she is strong in arm indeed. She has adopted many tendencies of the barbarians of the south and warriors of various kinds, but most of her determination is reflected in the green hued battleaxe, the ones she lost and recovered more recently having dragged most of norwick off for weeks travelling to find again.
Her pack resembles a huge travelling pack, seemingly too large for her, as has also been observed of her shield.
She no longer has the simple spear she used to keep strapped to her back for " <e>the head of first big saurus i find" instead she has a fine ring she wears now on her thumb of her right hand, - she likes the colour so she keeps it not knowing of any benefit it may bring her.
In battle she follows Tempus's example, ignoring and knowing little of the gods of the Wood Elf kin; only showing her rage in the presence of Lizardkin, of which her singleminded search and infectious determination seeks to drag people off in pursuit of the same goal. <e>Look for Saurus… Saurus must die.</e></e>
