Height:  5'4"
Build:  Slight
Weight:  346lbs.
Skin:  Browns, grey, scarred, and soot stained
Hair:  None
Description:  At a distance, and in a room lit only by flickering flame, an undiscerning eye might mistake Chandriss for a mortal woman. Her silhouette is human enough, though despite her small frame those with keen senses might quickly notice the labored groans which emerge from the floorboards with each heavy step.   The dancing shadows would hide the rough and scarred stone of her flesh, the craggy grays and browns appearing perhaps only as soot stained dark skin.  Most difficult to obscure would be the glowing gems of her eyes, or the matching rubies bonded into her skin.  For that, only the flames and a low drawn hood would be enough.  As such, she is almost never seen without a heavy cloak and hood, thick cloth giving her the ability to hide herself from the most cursory of gazes.

Under the light of the sun, there is no disguising the inhumanity of her features.  Her flesh, if it could even be called such, appears more like cobbled together stone than skin.   Each movement she makes is accompanied by the grinding sound of stone on stone, as if she were somehow incomplete or broken.  Her sometimes jittering movements carry her with a ponderous weight, though she is capable of great speed when roused.  Her existence is not an absolute, despite the weight that she bares.  Her form exists in a constant state of flux, pieces of her own reality fraying and vanishing in a flicker, only to instantly reappear.   It is a tenuous thing, as if at any moment she might cease to exist on this plane all together.   The only thing keeping her from vanishing in entirety is a flickering matrix of gemstones embedded into her flesh, emerald green and brilliant red fire crackling along the constantly fraying lines of power that hold her together.  Points of stability in an otherwise chaotic form.

She carries with her at all times a heavy tome, its thick and dirtied pages bound in some strange black metal.  Gem stones are embedded in the cracked binding and cover, matching the stones and fault lines which pierce her own form.  Indeed, the book seems very much to be a part of her, the same emerald and ruby flame which flickers in her eyes dancing through the precious gems in the book.