Corliss

Corliss, The Tower of Iron Will

Character

Corliss, human merchant, was born Cuspis 6, 400 in a village well east of Kelnore. She arrived in Sable at age 20 and began her adventuring life. She is a citizen of Sable.

Appearance and Portrait

Corliss stands 5' 9" tall and weighs 118 pounds.

Standing tall and lithe, gentle curves grace a slim body. Her face has a strong chin and high cheekbones. Large eyes of clear blue are framed with thick lashes. Her full lips are red and often curved into a smile. Her long, blonde hair has streaks of gold shimmering throughout and is braided, hanging down her back to just above her waist.

During more formal events, Corliss will dress her hair in a cascade of curls, held back from her face by a pair of long, black raven feathers.

Corliss has eyes that respond to her moods. Mostly they are a clear blue, but have been known to change to a stormy blue-grey when she is angered or distressed.

Special Amulet

Corliss wears a special amulet, the Amulet of Sunshine, gifted to her from the Gods.

The light of the sun has been captured within the confines of this amulet. Crafted of gold and platinum, the amulet is an orb with small flares along the surface. Small gems of topaz and diamond are embedded into the surface and catch the light. At the command of its owner, the amulet shines brightly, illuminating the immediate environs.

The amulet is engraved on the back with this poem, written by Thranganex, a dear friend of Corliss:

Little sunshine, gleaming bright,

dispel the darkness of the night.

Bring to us a brighter day, where

frightening nightmares burn away.

Ethos

Corliss walks a primarily good path, but has been known to be a bit chaotic.

Guild

Corliss is a member of the Psions Guild. She currently holds the rank of Cortex within the guild, second in command to the Guildmistress Tiella, but she was previously the guild librarian.

Religion

Corliss is a follower of Mortis, God of Death and the Underworld. She currently is a Lorekeeper for the church. She joined the church on Dawn 23, 439.

Clan

Corliss belongs to the Clan of Enlightened Brotherhood. She holds the rank of Philosopher.

Lodge

Corliss is a member of the Crow Lodge.

Home

Corliss lives in Sable at 19 Eastern Outskirts. While she prefers spending her time in the city of her citizenship, she can also sometimes be found in the Chapel in the Mortis Temple in Thrace.

Art Work

Corliss has been known to dabble in both painting and sculpture.

Paintings

Corliss has painted two self-portraits and two commissioned works. She always has a painting she is working on an easel at her home.

Freedom Seeker

A large painting in an onyx frame carved with trailing vines of jasmine blossoms.

On a background of stormy, grey skies along a rocky shore stands a female human. Her feet are planted firmly on the rocks at her feet, one higher than the other due to the unevenness of the surface. The rocks have been painted with shadows and light, seeming to leap from the surface of the painting. She wears thigh-high boots in black leather, which follow the curve of her leg like a second skin. Her slim body is clad in red leathers, long gloves encasing her hands up to her elbows. A shining amulet hangs around her neck, seeming to glow with its own luminance. She holds a staff in her left hand, resting it on the rock next to her higher foot. A serpent of emerald has begun to curve around the bottom of the staff, its head almost reaching to her hand where it grips the staff. The artist has used the most delicate strokes to depict each shimmering scale of the vibrant serpent as well as its flickering tongue. Her right hand is holding a dead flower down by her thigh; a rose that has dried and turned from white to black along the edges of the petals. Several petals have dropped, laying discolored and shriveled by her right foot. On the surface of the rocks below her feet, a clinging vine of jasmine is growing, its white blossoms beginning to bloom. One can almost smell the scent of the newly opened blossoms emanating from the painting, so delicate are the brushstrokes forming the petals and vines. The woman in the painting gazes off in the distance, looking out over the raging sea. Her long, blonde hair streams out behind her, each strand capturing a golden light as the artist has captured the movement with skilled brushstrokes. Her face has high cheekbones, a strong chin, full red lips, and a serious expression as large, stormy blue-grey eyes search the horizon. Her eyes are full of an unexplained emotion and shimmer with unshed tears as she seeks to follow the passion of her soul. Her entire countenance seems surrounded in a blue aura of brilliance.

The artist has signed the painting in the lower right corner with a small c.

The Last Sunset

A large painting in a frame made of willow, carved with an intricate pattern of small mushrooms.

A fading sunset illuminates the background of this large canvas, fiery reds and oranges, pinks and purples coloring the sky. The drama of the sky in sunset, visually stunning in the variety of hues, has been painted with precision, each brushstroke enhancing the beautiful wonder of the sun's final descent over the battleground. The earth has been churned, evidence of many feet scuffing in the movements of battle. The ground is littered with abandoned weapons, bloodstained, and shields, dented from the force of blows against them. In the background, the bodies of those fallen can be just discerned.

The sun barely remains above the horizon in the distance, its last piercing rays illuminating the figures at the forefront of the painting. A male cloaked in a black mantle, hood pulled forward to conceal the face, stands in the center of the scene. The mantle, though black in color, has been painted to reveal each fold and seam, the weave of the fabric visible. He holds a sickle in one pale hand, strongly in control of the weapon. The blade curves over his shoulder. The beams of fading sunlight catch the blade, sparking against its sharply polished edge. A large raven perches on the top of the sickle, its bright eyes shining with intelligence and curiosity. Although his form is not distinct within the deep, dark folds of his mantle, the male figure is an imposing presence. He looks down toward the female sprawled at his feet. His other hand, with its long skeletal fingers, is beginning to reach down to the woman's still form.

The female has fallen in battle, left hand still gripping a thick Everwood staff, spattered with blood. Her body is twisted into an unnatural position from where it fell. She is cladded for battle in fitted red leather armor, thigh high boots, and a dramatic silken cloak of blood red. Each buckle of her armor has been polished to a high shine and reflects the fading light of the sun. Her leather helmet has come off, laying a few feet from her. Golden waves of long blonde hair fan out around her head, each strand rendered in delicate brushstrokes. A few trickles of blood from a superficial wound has marred the pale skin of her forehead. Death's pallor has not yet erased the flush of her cheeks, heated from the battle which has just felled her with its final blow. Her eyes are closed with thick, dark lashes laying against her cheeks. Her lips are rosy red and seem to be upturned in a contented smile, even though Death has come.

The artist has signed the painting in the lower right corner with a small c.

Sculptures

Mortis

The statue is arresting in its height and detail. Cast in wrought iron, the figure is tall and wearing a hooded robe. The robe seems to flow and swirl around the hidden legs of the figure. One hand is outstretched, skeletal fingers seeming to reach for the observer in a beckoning manner. The other skeletal hand grasps a long scythe, blade almost as long as the staff to which it is attached. The blade gleams silver and appears sharp, in contrast to the black of the iron of the rest of the statue. A large, black raven sits atop the scythe's staff, wings extended as if about to take flight. The raven's eye is blood red and seems to follow the movements of the observer. The face of the hooded figure is obstructed by the folds of the robe's hood, but still appears ever watchful.

A small plaque at the base of the statue reads simply "MORTIS".