I, am Alys and I was given this name because in an old occult language my mother studied it meant "she who spreads lavender", my mother wanted me to spread goodness in this world filled with greed and terror. I am known as the illusionist because I would sit near the old tower out in the forest and cast illusions for the children of the town, I distracted them from the hardships of daily life and honed my skills as someone who knew how to trick the senses.
I stand at 4 feet 7 inches tall with a skinny and weak body. I have shoulder length white hair with big black eyes. My pale skin and comely appearance, in general, make me unique.
I see myself as one who follows the path of a magic user. I want to spread goodwill and hope by first starting working in the trades of political and military work. I generally view alliances as necessary, because people's attributes balance each other out, and make groups more proficient.
I intend to help those who wish to be in power and manipulate my way to the top in order to become the next Ruler of Kings. It should be known that despite my weak and demeaning exterior I am willing to do anything to make the world better and that the horrors I have seen during my teenage years in the slums have made me suspicious of those around me but I do want to make the world a safer place for all. Thus, I now start this path towards the life I have striven for, for years and try to make my way through the world I have been birthed into, with the hand of cards I have been given.
We met not long after my mother's death, I had left home, angry and frustrated at the gods that I no longer believed in. It was nighttime, she wore a long black skirt, an emerald green cloak that framed long, curly black hair. She noticed me from the corner of her eye as she pushed some drunk workers from her tavern, and then yelled at me to come over.
Her voice was warm and comforting, she gave me a change of clothes and fed me, she had lots of questions, too many, but most of them were centered around my current state of homelessness, my messy appearance and the death of my mother.
As I grew up not too far from her tavern with other street children, I often heard that she was keeping a close watch on me and my actions, many joked that the older woman was a watchful angel, to which I declared that angels did not exist. I began my life with disdain for the woman but slowly grew to care for her as though she was a member of my family. Unbeknownst to both of us, she is actually my father's half-sister and because of this familial relation, she has a natural urge to make sure my reckless behavior doesn't land me in too much trouble. She believes that I will do great things with my life and that my ability to manipulate other's with my illusionist ability is a great and useful power to be in control of.