[XxnightmarisxXmAir] Isaura Leyak

Name: Isaura Leyak ( ee-sor-ah)

Age: 300 years old, but has the appearance of a young lady of only 17.

Gender: Female

Species: Druid

House: Stark

Role to House: To be decided, but she is a healer so most likely some role in healing ailments.

Personality: Isaura is a young and resourceful girl. Ever curious the witty druid is oddly drawn to the nature of man. She is interested in the inner workings of a mortal being. Wishing to understand their endless pursuit for more of what they may or may not have. Shy at first glance the young forest dweller tends to avoid conflict, but just like the rebellious wind she is quick to change into a passionate sharp tonged being, when her home or those whom she care for are in danger. Isaura has always been seen as an odd child within her world for she wishes to help the mortals end the bloodshed. Yet she isn’t one to kill for the sake of another. She is a wise soul and knows the price of a life, be it human or not. The humans may have long ago forsaken the old gods but she believes that the gods still hold some humans dear and feels that it is her duty to protect the well being of those who offer their prayers to her gods. Some may call her reckless, others valiant but for sure this young forest dweller is not your common druid.

Physical Description:

Isaura has eyes that shift from blue to a lilac with her mood. Pale skinned her complexion fits that of the north, seeming powdery white with a slight sun kissed tint to her smooth flawless skin. Her skin is so fair that it almost seems to glow as the sun’s warm rays hit it. Being born in autumn Isaura can often be seen dressed in clothing made from dull almost gold colored leaves that were once a vibrant orange. She tends to dress in a fashion that mirrors the season in which she was born in. Her hair is the color of wheat and cropped short, her short rebellious locks always fall into her eyes. She chooses to keep her hair short for she enjoys feeling the wind’s caressing touch against her neck. The very wind she was named after.

Powers and Abilities:
Just like most of her kind Isaura has a knack for healing and coming up with herbal remedies. Yet she still has not perfected the art of breathing life into what is now presumed dead. Being of the wind she often uses the fickle element to help her move swiftly through the wooded frosty paths of the north. When angered the air around her seems to be heavier almost storm like and when faced with danger at times the winds come to her rescue. Yet it is not of her doing but rather the doing of her gods’. Just like most other forest dwellers she can control local fauna to do her biding but it’s a task that takes a lot out of her. She is a healer by choice and by nature seeing as all other options go against her beliefs and what her body can handle. She also tends to talk to the birds and trees which she uses to communicate back and forth with her loved ones.

Strengths and Weaknesses:
Being of nature Isaura just like the rest of her people is helped by her surroundings. As a healer she uses this gift to gain knowledge of both the mortal and immortal realms. She needs Nature to thrive without it’s protection she knows little of the world around her. For that very reason she immerses herself in her studies. Her body is weak and she knows that, protecting herself is hard for the young druid but her luck with the gods seems to keep her alive. While she can fight she must suffer through pain for in order to have the help of nature she must give something in return.
Some see her curiosity and ability to grasp abstract concepts as a curse, for that is what draws her to the world of the mortals. In her eyes their bodies are as frail as hers but she lacks something they have, the unquenchable thirst for life. Being immortal she knows of both life and death but never has she truly had the same longing to live. For that very reason she throws her life on the line for others. It’s that almost childlike innocence in a world of horror and treachery that causes the young druid to be in danger. In the end her greatest weakness is not knowing fear for her kind have always been sheltered by nature.

Weapons and Armour of Choice:
Isaura isn’t one to fight but she is exceptionally good with a bow. She only uses it in order to catch food but her aim is impeccable. As for armor the young forest dweller wears pieces of nature. As long as she has some tie to it she feels as if she is safe. Since isn’t directly influenced by the war she has no need for heavy amour but she is interested in how man turns rock into something of their own.

Background History:
The girl now known as Isaura was born on one of the few seemingly warm days of the wintery climate that was accustomed to the north. For that very reason she was given her name, which meant soft breeze. She was a child that fit the temperament of the ever changing winds yet she held some sort of softness to her character. Isaura only had vague memories of her father for he like many others before him had ventured too far from their village; and just like all others he was never heard from again. Yet he left her with one gift or rather a curse before he left; a thirst for a world which neither could ever be a part of, the world of mortals.
Her mother watched her child grow up to be a beautiful yet stubborn, lilac eyed girl. Her body seemed frail yet just like the tall trees around them she grew lanky and thin with slight curves. That was not the only thing she had in common with the old trees that lived around them. Much like them she seemed to have an old soul. One that could talk to said trees and those being that dwelled within their branches. At a young age she learned of her abilities, choosing to communicate with those beings closest to her gods rather than her fellow druids.
As the years passed and civilization grew, young Isaura inherited her father’s addiction. It stayed a secret to those around her and even herself for some time. She naturally gravitated to the position of healer for there she could witness firsthand what the strange mortal, destructive beings were like.
Time passed and her world grew smaller, the human’s wider; even crossing the sea, which she had only heard tales of from gulls. Her heart yearned to explore for she was a slave to the forest in which she was born. It was then she realized why her father had left and why many others had as well. They all came to see that their beloved forest was nothing more than a giant cage. For how can beings that were truly free be confined to only one place?
This was what slowly drove her closer to humans, dangerously close. She knew of death but she was never thought to fear it. She knew of fear but never felt. For that very reason she was puzzled by humans. Beings who died and feared death.
One day just like all others she ventured too far. That marked the day she could never go back home. She watched Winterfell from afar, seeing how human’s interacted with one another. The air there was different, not as pure, yet an air she longed to breath. She saw the stark family and those that served under them. Witnessed them grow wiser with agae like the trees and the likeness they seemed to hold to the direwolfs which ran wild by her home. They stuck together and seemed to hold a protective air to them. They were protector. They too were humans, but just like her kind they seemed to grasp the value of life better than most mortals. They were just and that is what drew her to them. Beings as wild as her at heart yet so different; Isaura craved to be part of their world.
The young druid was not a fool though; she knew of the dangers their world held. So she went back to her cage and like a well-trained song bird sang the song which her elders had taught her. Yet her song was different, her song held longing, longing for their world. So she waited, waited for the time humanity might need someone like her. For she knew that the gods had taken her there for a reason, one her father failed to complete and it was up to her to finish what her father had meant to do.
The war came, as did a new king. Unrest fallowed once he died. That was all she knew of this day and age. The Starks she had seen had died long ago, yet she still waited to be part of their world. “winter is coming” they said. Little did they know it was right at the horizon. A new war came bitter and ruthless as winter; knowing nothing but death. This was now her present and her kind was now so called allies to the north. She knew it was her chance so she took it.200 years later, 200 long years. Her wait was over; this war brought her freedom with it. It was senseless bloodshed that would free her; a bitter bittersweet taste to say the least. She cared less for victor or loser she cared only for the sanity of the world that boarded her own. The world she so long to be part of was ill with greed and hatred, thus the young healer set out to cure it of its sins.