Saraphene

Saraphene Storyline Cross Into Shadows Gender female Race Human Status dead Relationship(s) Disean, son

Saraphene was the ex-wife of Sir Thadston Andrews.

History

Around 5113, Saraphene lived on the outskirts of Talador with her husband, Lord Ambrus, a paladin of Koar who presumably raised Disean, the son of Saraphene and her first husband, Thadston Andrews.

Saraphene was murdered by Raznel shortly before the assault on Talador in 5116. Her body was found beneath the Temple of Koar while Raznel used magic to pose as a false "Saraphene" to escape the siege.

Appearance

As a Raznel duplicate.

You see Lady Saraphene.
She appears to be a Human from Hendor.
She is tall and appears to be mature.  She has blood-shot light azure eyes and tanned skin.  She has long, soft golden hair.  She has a thin face and a small nose.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing a stained blue and silver robe.

Loresong

Provided by Fyonn:

While we were searching the Taladorian mines tonight, we came upon the corpse of a woman in blue and silver robes, with blonde hair. This is the tale she told to me in her song:

Your vision blurs, colors melding together before forming a new landscape entirely. You see a slender woman with blonde hair, standing before a long mirror and slowly gliding a blue and silver robe over her lithe frame. Her hair is still damp, and she moves over to a vanity but pauses at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Your vision blurs, colors melding together before forming a new landscape entirely. A wooden door explodes inward, shattering into a thousand splinters as three white armored crusaders come rushing in, and the blonde woman scrambles back, grabbing at a scepter. Then, striding through the door, comes a golden-eyed man, who grins wide and utters a word. The woman lowers her weapon.

Your vision blurs, colors melding together before forming a new landscape entirely. You see three white-armored crusaders dragging a blonde woman into a cavern, chaining her to a wall. She pleads and squirms, even spitting in defiance once or twice. The hollow-eyed crusaders show no reaction, turn, and march off.

Your vision blurs, colors melding together before forming a new landscape entirely. The blonde woman squints, as torch light illuminates an area in the cavern. Stepping into view is an old witch, whose frail hair curls down over her wrinkled skin, her emerald eyes twinkling with delight. The witch pulls out a jagged knife and drives it across the woman's stomach, before smearing the prisoner's blood on her own face. A moment later, the witch's visage changes, identical to that of the dying woman.