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Your Username: Mortane

Name: Tiar
Age: 19
Sex: female
Sexual Orientation: straight
Craft: Smithcraft
Rank: Apprentice

Physical Description: Tiar stands at a petite 5'1. Her figure is compact and well built with wide birthing hips and full breasts that are often time hidden away beneath the heavy leathers she wears when forging and tinkering. Tiar is toned, but not overly muscled due to the fact she's too small to work the heavier forges. Her skin is fair and pale except for a light tan caused by the heat and scattered burn scars here and there from her work. She tends to be perpetually smudged by dirt or ash and doesn't seem to particularly care what she looks like, but woe unto those who mistake her single mindedness to her projects for mousiness. Tiar's hair is long, thick and full, coming to fall all the way at her hips in wild waves of copper bronze strands. To keep it out of her way she usually keeps it in a tight braid or pulled back and her head covered with a bandana or some sort of rag. Only letting it down when alone or during intimate moments. Her features are angular her cheekbones high and noble, the skin usually flushed pink from the heat of the forges. These features frame a pair of bright striking witchy white blue eyes. Tiar is often times mistaken to be blind due to her eyes being unfocused and unresponsive in thought until someone gets her attention. It's not till someone finally get's her attention and find the entirety of her piercing gaze on them that they realize they prefer her attention elsewhere.

Tiar's soul vanity is her hair. Despite it's impracticality and danger to her in a fight she still keeps in long and braided back. A solemn reminder to herself and others that she is in fact a woman. Overall Tiar tends to be constantly covered in burns and press marks or a few bruises from tussles with equipment and other apprentices. To prevent her hair from being used against her she braids a sharp studded leather strand into to stab anyone dumb enough to try such a dirty tactic and keeps sharpened metal spiked pins in it to hold her hair back from her face and to slice ungloved threatening hands. For the most part Tiar appears to be comfortable and confident in her own skin, her one dislike about her body being the fact she's a woman and the fact she's so short. Even though her innovative thinking and natural talent at forging and tinkering have won her a good deal more freedom at the smith crafthall then she would have had otherwise she's still starkly aware of her sex. Her height and her body's limitations frustrating her to no end.

Tiar tends to wear plain clothing, more fit for function then appearance though she does have love for bright beautiful colors. Often times braiding her few scarce and prized ribbons into her hair during Gather. Tiar ALWAYS wears a pair of gloves. Her hands are her life and they are the one place on her entire body that is not nicked, cut, or scarred.The most scarring appearing on her unprotected arms giving her an almost tiger striped look from the press burns. Also it's a well known fact the she's metal plated the knuckles on said gloves to protect her hands in a fight and keeps a boot knife stuck in her boots at all times.
Personality: Tiar feels she constantly has to hold her own. Confident, innovative, calculating, and ready to roll with the punches while sending back hits of her own she leaves no room to shows weakness. To her a best defense is a good strong offense leaving her pondering her masters next need and demand before he even asks it, often times making her a favorite for projects due to her foresight and logical thinking. Quick to laugh and easy to smile Tiar does her best to talk like, act like, and fight like a boy giving her all to raise her glass with the rest of them in a toast to whatever project they're working on.

But when it comes down to the line and though she'll never admit it she sometimes wonders if the grass is greener on the other side. Tiar never takes a break, constantly working towards her goal and at furthering her career. Despite her facade of constant cheerfulness and determination there's many a night she goes to bed and dreams about what it might be like to pause in her craft to pursue more personal relations beyond that of simple working partnerships. When most girls her age have lovers, husbands, and homes of their own she finds herself sharing a cold cot with nothing, but her dreams to warm her. Though she's too proud to admit it there's an envious spark of jealousy that burns in her soul when she watches the crafthall boys stumble over themselves to help the pretty holder girls.

Tiar can't help but wonder what it might be like to be viewed as a woman instead of just a worker. Still she ply's her wit and keeps her nose to her trade, but wonders what it might be like to put her mental leaps and bounds to plots and plans of far larger scale then that of her mechanical mechanism.

A bit on the secretive side Tiar does not trust easily and views everyone with a reserved wariness. Her respect is earned, never given and with thread looming she takes every action very seriously. Reserved and hard working she usually keeps up her cheerful attitude to persuade people to open up and tell her things and to make them less suspicious of her. She cannot abide foolishness specially if it could cost lives and is quick to make her opinion known on such matters.

One to always put her people before herself she'll do whatever it takes to see to it that her friends and family prosper. A tactical and logical she makes a loyal ally, but a plane dangerous enemy. Don't be fooled by her hard shell though, once she gets used to you she starts to warm up. Tough love is her medicine, but she's not beneath small acts of mercy and shows of emotion. Tiar just doesn't want to appear vulnerable.
History:
Tiar's mother passed away in childbirth leaving her father, a forge worker at the Smith crafthall to foster her out to one of the head women in the kitchen who was currently caring for three little boys of her own. Tiar grew up running around with her foster brothers and in awe of her foster mother who so fearlessly barked out orders at anyone who dared defy her. Over time Tiar's father who had always wished to have a son to pass along his craft to began to teach his little daughter tips and tricks to keep her from being underfoot and out of the crafting areas she so often sneaked into. What began with simply showing her how to mend a pot or fix and latch quickly grew into an obsession for the young child as her growing mind sucked up everything her father could teach her like a sponge.

Soon her father ran out of things to teach her and she began to apprentice in the Smith crafthall. Starting among the lowly dregs just like the others. Always the ambitious one though Tiar planned, watched and waited for the time to make her mark. The young girls chance came when one of the older masters, a part time inventor, found himself at an indisputable impasse with one of his newest inventions. Unable to get his large calloused hands into the machine to fix the delicate gears, yet unable to take the machine apart without breaking it, the stubborn man flew into a fit of rage tossing his work onto the junk heap.

Always an avid forager it was quickly scooped up and rescued by Tiar. Where she later returned it to the master in question, cleaned, repaired, and much to the man's surprise and ire, fully working. As his old eyes went from machine to the little maid before him in puzzled embarrassment he gruffly offered her a chance to mentor under him. Seeing the chance to both keep her quiet about his folly and an opportunity to put her deft fingers to work. Tiar on the other hand saw her chance to get ahead in her craft and with a smile like a grinning cat she agreed.

Other/Talents: Jewelcrafting, tinkering, engraving, inventing, drawing, and knitting when she's thinking.