Ready for the hammer of judgement! I decided to change her name, since the first one was not enough of a chore for everyone to remember.
Clerk for the Amberdale General StoreOns :
Gold, cats, this Amberdale spice known as "chocolate"Offs :
Being mistaken for human, using portals for base thievery, sandy pantiesFavorite Mode of Attack: Eye of Ra,
a tiny portal of very limited distance styled after a gold udjat (the 2" pupil being the portal).A note on portals:
Bel-Kharran-Sharrat's portals have an upper limit of about 2" diameter and about two feet of distance, and her personal beliefs prevent her from using them for any sort of thievery, such as pocketing objects or reaching through locked doors. They are meant to be of very limited use.Height :
Palanquin candyDescription :
Evenly rich butterscotch complexion marks her as a traveler from the arid desert climate, though carefully cultivated racetrack curves betray that she was never allowed to suffer in that heat. A firmly set jaw expressive with her displeasure is framed by leaden straight black hair with long bangs so precise and uniform that her brow might be considered an intimate secret. The blue of her eyes is brought out by heavy, dark kohl lining and shadowed with teal, and often they are heavy-lidded, suited to the languorous, slinking movements of a woman for whom dignity and being served are paramount. Her dark, dangerous, faintly honey fragrance is meant to intoxicate, but comes across a little strong in a place like Amberdale, louder than her mincing, intimate, temptress' voice.Personality :
She expects obedience from her lessers (most everyone) and gives groveling sycophancy to her betters, for in her mind, there is only one or the other. Perhaps her greatest weakness is a fascination with new experiences, particularly tastes, but those who would coax Bel-Kharran-Sharrat into sampling crab apples beware, for her mind is darker and more devious than she lets on. What sense of humor she has is dry, but humor is so culturally dependant that rarely she feels comfortable sharing it with the strangers of Amberdale. Instead she plays it safe as a calculating business-minded woman, bringing her long term plans to a slow boil, thwarted at every turn by hoary spiders of unusual size and the threat of feeble kobolds.Story :
Two yellow suns burned bright over the parched Sekhemi homeworld when Bel was born into a wealthy trade empire, one daughter of many, slave to her mother, a slaver in turn, one link in an unbroken chain of absolute obsdience from highest pharaoh to lowliest mugluk-mule. Here she was fed many stories about the glory of the Sekhemi, how her people had traveled through the Nascent Gates to primitive worlds and forged incredible works in their own image.
Her youth was a privileged one, working as a spice merchant in service to her magnate mother, savoring the sweet decadent scents and tastes and textures of spices from worlds remote from her parched desert home, and though she was tutored in the portalmancy magic natural to her people, there was never much cause to master it, as moving people and things were surely work for lesser slaves, such as the misshapen brutes made to break rocks in the orpiment mines.
One primitive world in particular captured Bel-Kharran-Sharrat's imagination. It was on this remote world, accessible only through the Nascent Gates, which her distant ancestors were said to have shepherded the greatest marvels of a race called man. This was a world of sweet flavors and abundant water, and long Bel whispered in the ears of her mother's advisors of the profits to be found. Finally, she was granted a caravan to test her mettle against this surely violent and barely sentient world, but calamity struck when the ether of the gate twisted off course. Bel-Kharran-Sharrat was separated across unknown miles from the rest of her caravan, arriving unexpectedly in a cozy little place called Amberdale.
A less ambitious woman might see this as a predicament, but for Bel-Kharran-Sharrat it represented an opportunity; freed from the shackles of her mother's caravan to do business her own way, Bel intends to reap the full profits of her expedition and dip her fingers in the takings of such lucrative spices as chocolate
But without funds, and without a market for her native spices of sukamric, qoneli, and orange orpiment wine, Bel-Kharran-Sharrat has been forced to find work at the local general store. She's eager to quest in search of riches, allies, and, most importantly, interesting new spices to bring home.