Griya
Griya
You walk into a dimly lit building in Velas, Stehelan. The walls are thick, as are the window shutters, to contain the scent of blood and death. Tables are laid out in the room, all with a body laid out on it, all with a well-pressed sheet covering them from curious visitors like yourself. One body however, is being tended to at the table near the shelves in the back right corner.
Standing over the woman's body is a fairly pretty young woman, with long dark hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck, and braided down her back only to be tucked into her apron strings. A few strands hang loosely about her face, contrasting her pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her lips move with silent speech as she washes the body with sweet oils, oils she uses regardless of the wealth of the family of the dead. Gently, she pushes her hair back behind her ear, laying her hand on the forehead of the woman, whispering words unheard. She wipes her hands on her apron, already coated in dried blood of too many bodies, (for the mines give up their dead readily, and she has much work to do always), and looks up at you. "Hello," she says, her voice low and soft, with a slight lilt of an accent too elevated for a simple mortician, "My name is Griya."
Standing over the woman's body is a fairly pretty young woman, with long dark hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck, and braided down her back only to be tucked into her apron strings. A few strands hang loosely about her face, contrasting her pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her lips move with silent speech as she washes the body with sweet oils, oils she uses regardless of the wealth of the family of the dead. Gently, she pushes her hair back behind her ear, laying her hand on the forehead of the woman, whispering words unheard. She wipes her hands on her apron, already coated in dried blood of too many bodies, (for the mines give up their dead readily, and she has much work to do always), and looks up at you. "Hello," she says, her voice low and soft, with a slight lilt of an accent too elevated for a simple mortician, "My name is Griya."
Pretty, dark brown hair. Works In the morgue in Velas in Stehelan. Not easily flustered. At all. She's willing to help the party as long as it doesn't interfere with her work. As a mortician and embalmer, she is in possession of many chemicals and poisons, some of which she is willing to share - for the right price of course.
Current Location
Velas, Stehelan
Current Location
Ethnicity
Children
Eyes
Bright Blue and deep with the secrets of the dead.
Hair
Long enough she could sit on it, and dark brown with soft waves that spring up more when the sun warms the ever-rare rain.
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Pale
Height
5'8"
Weight
120lbs
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