Carissa is lean muscled and broad-shouldered. Along the shallow curve of her spine were tattooed blue-inked symbols that run from under her hairline to disappear beneath her waistband.  Her hair, a mix of browns, dark blue, and black, is a wild mass of dreadlocks, several strands adorned with rings of iron and silver.  The rebellious lengths are hidden within a dark blue and golden trimmed scarf and bundled atop of her head in a crude topknot.  She wears a dark blue burnoose, her soft boots peeking from beneath.

Her skin is light cinnamon, her lips a purplish hue, her face gamine, with a small nose with a bump on the bridge from where it had been broken before, probably several times.  She has a generous mouth and slightly slanted eyes that bespoke of a birthright far from these lands.  Or, at least, of a father who ranged far and wide. They were brilliant; the grey-green of a sea brightly lit from below.  Just over her dark blue brows, evenly spread out, were three tiny tattooed dots, six in all.