Pyraelia Sunmote

Art by SketchyGoat

Appearance -

Gender: Female

Race: Sin’dorei

Height: 6′0″

Eye Color: Arcane blue

Hair Color: Chestnut brunette

Build: Slender and willowy

Skin Tone: Porcelain

Piercings/Tattoos: Earlobes

Scars & how they got them: Significant burn scarring up the right side of her neck, shoulder, chest and side

Common Accessories: Prosthetic right arm that is usually enchanted to have a design that matches whatever she's wearing for the day, many enchanted rings, tasteful jewelry

Likeness: Daisy Ridley

Personal Information –

Profession: Archmage of the Archives; currently tasked with the Magistry archives in the Court of the Sun and re-establishing the archives in the Magisters' Terrace.

Hobbies: Knitting, crochet, spinning, weaving, reading, cozy gaming and tabletop gaming.

Languages: Thalassian, Common, Orcish, Darnassian, Shalassian

Residence: Eversong Woods

Birthplace: Eversong Woods

Birthday: February 14

Age: Young Adult

Religion:  None

Patron Deity:  None

Fears: Hospital stays, loss of control, paralysis

Relationships –

Spouse:  None

Children:  None

Parents:  Cosima Sunmote (deceased) and Finniall Sunmote (deceased)

Siblings:  Fiorenze Sunmote, elder sister

Other Relatives: Keranna Zerine, second cousin

Pets: Six sheep, a couple of barn cats and one house cat

Sex & Romance –

Sexual Orientation: Demisexual

Preferred Emotional Role: submissive | dominant | switch

Preferred Sexual Role: submissive | dominant | switch

Libido: Low, unless it's the right person; then it's moderate

Turn ons: Curiosity, adventurous nature, intelligence, passion, creativity

Turn offs: Know it alls who don't actually know it all, rudeness, lack of whimsy, unnecessary aggression

Love Language: Quality time, acts of service

Relationship Tendencies: She's never been in a romantic relationship so this is unknown

Personality/Description –

Pyraelia is a young, inquisitive adult Sin'dorei who loves magic and knowledge. She stands slightly on the taller side for a woman, her height accentuated further by her lithe and willowy figure. Her natural grace and features lean towards the gentle elegance of old nobility. Most of her ambitions in life revolve around using magic to improve society for the benefit of all. Her demeanor usually leans toward warm, easy going and happy; every day is a gift with new opportunities to learn and experience something different.

Her left hand bears no marks of manual labor, nor are there any scars present on her skin. Her right arm, from the shoulder down to the tips of her fingers, is a masterwork bio-medical metal prosthetic with full range of motion and control. She has some very light freckling across her nose and cheeks, but it's faint and only discernible close up.

Any make up she wears leans toward looking natural and not at all present -- she doesn't want it to look like she's wearing any, ever. She keeps her jewelry simple, basic bangles and earrings. All of her clothes and dresses are immaculately tailored. Her perfume is a blend of jasmine, musk, sandalwood, and vanilla, and she always carries around the faintest tinge of arcane ozone.

RP Hooks –

Magistry & Kirin Tor - Pyraelia has been involved with both major magical organizations for many years. Her parents were both Professors Sunmote at the Universities in Dalaran and Silvermoon, and for a time she worked in the Silvermoon City Enchanting Branch helping coordinate when the holiday decor would magically go up and come down. She has herself taught as an adjunct at the Universities, participated as a Research Advisor, and eventually was granted higher roles in the Dalaran Archives. When the city fell she was able to spirit away a good 2/3rds of the city's knowledge and artifacts through a system she devised to teleport it out to friendly nations and was promoted to Archmage of the Archives, where she now oversees the repatriation and restoration of many of those objects and manuscripts.

Spell patents - Her name is on a number of purchasable enchantments and spell scrolls, ranging from chronomantic applications to keep food in containers from spoiling to cosmetic enchantments for prosthetics and bigger applications like Pyraelia's Perfect Penthouse, a customizable demi-plane that can be lived in for a set number of hours before it fades.

Books & Tea - Two of her great loves; she's been in almost every bookstore in Silvermoon and formerly Dalaran more than once and stops by various tea stores from time to time.

The quiet tap-tap-tap of Keranna's cane heralded her arrival the way her high heels used to. Pyraelia didn't bother glancing over from her sheet music. Her fingers, flesh and metal, glided along the keys as she played through a particularly complex bridge. They both loved listening to piano, and that alone would allow her cousin to happily wait until she'd finished.

Her walking aid was new, of course. A similar tap-tap-tap of thoughts coming together connected some dots from a story she'd read in the paper earlier that morning. You could name the director of the Magistry Intelligence office. People had a right to know who he was. Everyone else involved still had to be protected. Another agent killed him in self-defense after confronting him with proof of his treachery and betrayal of the Regency. The press was allowed to print that their hero had sustained significant, but not critical, injuries in their confrontation.

It wasn't a secret within their family that Keranna worked for the MI office. Fiorenze had previously worked for MI, but forfeit her security clearances when she left the service, and Pyraelia herself was an Archmage, with all the benefits and terrors that mantle bore. And yes, Keranna was old and could just be using a cane for arthritis or to support an older injury — she'd mentioned being kicked by a hawkstrider in her youth a couple of times in conversations over the years — but why now.

She turned the page, the rasp of it crisp against the otherwise lilting notes. Her ability to avoid a conversation was rapidly diminishing. How long could she hold a fermata? There were a few between where she was and the final note.

Keranna came closer still, patient enough to step only when the clack of her cane would enhance the melody with subtle percussion. That should've been more annoying than endearing, but the older elf had always had a love of music. The Conservatory was proof of that. It had become Pyraelia's favorite place to hide away in the wake of Magister's Terrace. Something was always being created here, and that felt like a balm against the senseless destruction.

The final note lingered in the air as Keranna smiled, "Brava, my dear. You had some deliveries left at your office, I thought it best to bring them to you."

Pyraelia glanced over at the parcel and wildflowers her cousin set on the piano's shoulder and responded with a quiet, "Thank you." And then a more direct, "Did you kill Director Kam'arrin?"

Keranna nudged Pyraelia's calf with her cane and had a seat next to her on the bench as soon as she moved to make enough room, "Yes."

If there was one thing Pyraelia would always appreciate about her, it was her choice to be direct when it mattered. There was trust in that. She closed her eyes and exhaled, letting her shoulders drop a little — in defeat more than relaxation. "You say that with such ease. I still have nightmares about people who died on my watch and this doesn't seem to bother you at all."

"The Terrace debacle was his fault as much as Rommath's," Keranna offered. It wouldn't matter much, but that fact meant something in her blood-stained calculus. "It's something I've been thinking about for a long time. How I would do it. When... I'm glad it wasn't my choice in the end. Making him suffer the way I wanted him to suffer would have changed me."

That wasn't particularly comforting, but it was honest. Pyraelia furrowed her brow and scrunched up her nose as her lips pursed. What she wanted to say was sour, and honesty begat honesty. "I don't think I belong in this family. I'm inadequate compared to you and Fiorenze. You're both so…" What word did she want to use? Decisive? Terrifying? Comfortable with violence?

Keranna was silent for a moment. Her slender fingers found the keys in the upper register and she played the first few chords of a familiar duet many noble girls were taught early in their lessons. Enough to make Pyraelia catch the hint. "Do not ever consider your kindness and gentleness a weakness. Your mother had me raise Fiorenze because she didn't want the lessons a future Queen needed to learn on her conscience. I made her a weapon, the same as I am. Your sister will never forgive me for that, and she's right for it."

That had been the plan all along, for Fiorenze to marry the Prince. It didn't work out that way. Pyraelia put her fingers back on the keys and picked up the tune alongside her cousin. "I didn't know you could play piano, Kera," she said, quietly. "…And it's not like my mother was kind, either."

"She was ruthless. Your father, though, was a lovely soul," Keranna chuckled and matched her note for note, "And I can play many instruments. Mandolin is my favorite and the one I've decided to embrace the most. There's no reason not to learn anything that interests you when you have centuries to do it."

Pyraelia smiled a bit at the sentiment. Learning was her favorite thing, and always would be.

"Take a sabbatical, darling," her cousin continued, crossing one arm over another to move her hand to the higher keys, "You're an Archmage. You may have been born here, but no kingdom commands you. The Magistry wronged you in how the Terrace was handled. It is perfectly fine to want some distance and time to heal."

Why did that feel like quitting? The notion alone made her chest feel tight. Keranna wouldn't say it if it weren't true, though. Not to her. Pyraelia frowned and picked up the short solo meant for her part before answering, "May I have a studio here if I do?"

Keranna leaned and nudged her gently with her shoulder, "You're family, darling. The answer will always be yes."