Lyana's limbs are long and slender, and her skin is the rich bronze that comes from long days spent in the sun. Her blonde hair reaches halfway down her back and glistens as the wind teases it, probably because she oils it daily. A winged circlet cinches it behind her ears and frames her clear golden eyes. A closer look might reveal a fine tracery of old scars covering her flesh like an ephemeral painting.  She has an athlete's muscle tone, and by some great good fortune all her body fat seems to have gone to her bosom and hips, giving her a woman's fullness. Despite her statuesque beauty, she walks like a savage jungle predator, full of feline grace and with an eagle's poise. Those, combined with other signs of physical conditioning, suggest that she's more than just a pretty face.

When moving around outdoors, Lyana favors a hooded travelling cloak in desert colors, the generic traveller's attire. Under that, she wears a gladiator's partial armor; a plated manica that covers her entire left arm and shoulder, strapped across her body and counterpointed by a heavy bracer on gauntlet on her other arm. She had a plate belt around her waist from which a studded leather skirt descends, and beneath that are a pair of padded metal shinguards. She does not wear shoes for some reason, though her feet are heavily callused from years of going barefoot to the point where they're as tough as a legionary's caligae.

After the siege of Weir, she carries the black reaper daiklave Vlitra at her side. For a little while, her eyes were glassy and dead, as though she does not see people, but through them. She lost her smile and flat out ignored people entirely, especially if they try to debate with her. More recently, she's got the daiklave slung over her back, no longer draws it, and is her old self again.

Always at least at [Appearance 5]