Legends of Belariath
Shriwyss
Shriwyss was a huntress and scout leader for her House Vor-Mstrag`Koiu's raiding parties, and due to a desire to be better in her chosen feild spent much time on the surface (for a Moriel at least). Some questioned her purity, whether she was surface tainted...but she was protected by her lover, Commander Ethevrae. She pressed her advantage, using her assumed status as a shield and getting several rivals killed...and making Many more. However, Ethevrae had her own enemies and she fell to their machinations. Suddenly, the Nethergloom was a very unhospitable place for Shriwyss, and she fled for the surface. There, she found things inhospitable. The hated sunlight sapped her of her strength. The hated surface dwellers tried to kill her often no sooner than seeing her dark skin and red eyes. SHe adopted her customary caution. She whispered, lest her accent reveal her (and because she always did). She was careful and hid beneath her cloak, no matter the opressive heat. Heat, such a thing surprised her on the surface, and soon she found clothing to be restrictive, but...it saved the skin it hid, and so she wore it, and suffered.
Her foray into Nanthalion was a surprise. She saw moriel wandering about uncovered. At first she thought it a trick, but...she found out otherwise. Her first contact was Ehlanna, and soon she found herself in a series of conflicts which led to her clothing being taken from her. Hutgar is a name she despises, a dastardly surface elf who picks on her, and steals her clothing at every turn.
Her skills have improved, and now, now she has quite a penchant for theft and larceny. Her skills are improving in other areas as well, albeit related areas. Her efforts in silence and stealth are extending to even the wilds of Beleriath, as this cave stalker continues to adapt what she knows to the decidedly strange areas that make up Beleriath. She has trained extensively in these areas, and even now begins to yield results. Still, her personality remains unchanged, and as her familiarity and comfort with this new world increase, so too do her appetites. Scantily clad was her norm, and so it continues to be. But this time, danger flavors her appearance.
Now, she looks foreward to the future instead of cursing it. The memory of her late love (well, maybe more along the lines of caring lust) laid to rest. She has no love for the light and weather of the surface, but she has learned to work within it, and make it work for her. Perhaps, finally, she will be a productive member of the Empire, or perhaps even a sanctioned destructive element, or, perhaps she will slip back into her old ways, to be claimed by another. Shevar clouds the future in her shadows, and truly, not even she knows what may lie beneath that cloak of darkness.