Aralyte Halanori Faendryl
Aralyte Halanori Faendryl is a dark elf of the Palestra, with the formal title of Palestra Blade. She was one of the principal opposition to Althedeus during the events of Cross Into Shadows. After leading the attack on a shadow valence where Althedeus was defeated, she was left behind while the rest of the group escaped back to Elanthia. She is presumed to have survived, but her condition and whereabouts following the attack are unknown.
You see Aralyte Halanori Faendryl the Palestra Blade.
She appears to be a Faendryl.
She is average height and appears to be of full age. She has narrow feystone-hued eyes and dark skin. She has a bald head. She has a slender face, an aquiline nose and sharply pointed ears. Blood red sigils are tattooed just above her eyes.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing a brilliant red soulstone suspended by a thick leather cord, a cracked yellow bone necklace, a long flowing grey gossamer cloak fastened by a small scarlet triskelion, an oiled grey leather scabbard, a suit of fitted black body-leather, a pair of slim eahnor-set bracers, a series of fiery orange rings, a wide eahnor-studded leather belt, a skull-beaded black alchemy bag, a tooled black leather pouch, some sleek grey silk pants, a thin black leather ankle-sheath, and some crisp black leather boots.
a brilliant red soulstone suspended by a frayed leather cord
Your vision blurs and your surroundings shift to reveal a blanket of suffocating darkness. In the distance, ribbons of blood red light seep across the sky, bathing the horizon in an eerie copper glow. Nearby, you hear a chorus of low, guttural moaning.
Your vision blurs and your surroundings shift to reveal a vast landscape of battered grey rock, with veins of shadowy liquid stretched across it like black webbing. The blasted dirt begins to move, peeling apart to reveal itself not as stone, but as gnarled demonic beings, each one stretching out their membranous wings and taking flight.
Your vision blurs and your surroundings shift, just as the last segments of the wasteland break apart. A lone figure stands upon the back of a slowly rousing demon, her long grey gossamer cloak flowing about her like light from the moon. She screams as a demon appears behind her, clawing at her face as she falls back into the darkness. As she disappears into the depths, the now frayed cord around her neck slips off and a brilliant red soulstone is left behind.
Your vision blurs and your surroundings shift to reveal a glistening sea of murky black blood. The bloodshot sky casts a crimson sheen along the expanse of shadowy liquid, and all along its surface floats the bloated corpses of deformed creatures. Slowly drifting into view is the body of a dark elven woman, wounds and sigils covering her face as she glides by, halfway submerged in the blood. Suddenly, her feystone-hued eyes snap open, and your vision ends.