In the eyes of the House of Stone and Light, Kassandra is a shining beacon of what makes it's home in all their blood. She is truly a daughter of the Foremothers with features as sharp as the famed beauty of the elves and touched be equal delicacy. Her cheek bones rest smoothly and high beneath her eyes which slope ever so slightly towards her delicate blade of a nose and give every impression of the exotic with their gleaming and slightly radiant emerald hue. Her lips are full and seem to always smile or frown with an inexplicably inviting air, touched lightly by paint to take on a shade of red that compliments her pale and slightly blue tinged complexion. Beneath that is the soft point of her chin and completing an almost queenly combination of features.

Her 'hair', however, marks her as what she is in the eyes of those outside the fold; a monster of legend. Kassandra is a Medusa and her hissing mane of black serpents coils and sways at her whim and falls past her shoulders to the small of her back. Each serpentine strand glows with health and tender care that might be better saved for a cherished pet or mount rather than what marks her as something inhuman and dangerous.

Scales form delicate patterns of armour down the lengths of her neck, belly, and legs. Which only serve to accentuate the impressions of the smooth curve of hip into thigh and swell of breast can invoke in those interested in such things. The distraction presented often enough saving many from the rude shock her full majesty might cause. Finally, the scent of rosewater and other fragrances seem to always cling to her and lend a pleasant aroma to her comings and goings.

How she attires herself depends entirely upon whom she might be entertaining or what activity she chooses to pursue in that moment. Without fail, however, the garments are of the highest quality and often follow in the styles of the distant desert kingdoms with veils and light silks featuring prominently. Of particular note, however, is when she attires herself for conflict and trouble. Her fine coat of mail is forged of Mithril and bears the entwined serpents of a reclusive smith that claims membership to the House of Stone and Light.

Her short sword is no less fine and gleams with the peculiar light of a magically honed edge. Runes of sickly green in etched in Terran running the length of the blood channel. The whole of the blade shaped distinctly like a fang rather than a proper honed edge, even going so far as to curve faintly towards it's razor point.

The bow she bears shows no less love but it's origin is less writ in it's make and design. Appearing as no more than long weathered oak with leather wraps forged of the shed skin of one reptile or another. It's string well oiled and ever taught.