Age     : 23
Height  : 5'2"
Hair    : Dark
Eyes    : Dark
Build   : Lean
Skin    : Olive
Deity   : Sibil

She raised a hand with its long artistic fingers, and wiped at the spray that the wind had dashed against her smooth olive cheek.  Dark eyes dropped from their long stare into the gray horizon as though to question the dampness on her fingers.  She rubbed them together, and between the pads of her fingers she imagined that she could feel the wind and the waves themselves.  The life's blood of trade.  The life's blood of exploration.  For the briefest of moments, she considered raising the hood of her long dark cloak.  Then she burst into a laugh, sheer joy pealing into the tangy salt air.  Her voice was a rich, melodic contralto.  There was freedom in that laugh.  And the joy that comes from being alive.  And being free.

Heads turned, of course.  At the sound of laughter.  The ship's second physician was an odd one.  Very much business when dealing with the crew.  Kept to herself.  And, she'd be just staring out to sea when she thought no one was watching her.  A shame.  She was an attractive woman.  With the dark olive looks of Grax.  But there was a hole in her somewhere.  Something missing.  She was rumored to dabble in poisons.  And worshipping Sibil?  Who did that?