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Aislinn O Lennane
Aislinn is no thin whip waif. In fact, everything about her figure is pronounced evidence of a privileged life - well-fed seasons ensuring her growth into a healthy woman.

A solitary curl of ebony sweeps over her delicate brow, toward eyes as rich as chocolate that melt with the warmth of her smiles. Her full lips are unpainted, reminiscent in shade of ripe raspberries and doubtless as sweet, while a cherubic nose concludes the softness of her countenance.

The remainder of her hair coils loosely past a waist tamed by a black-velvet cincher with silver boning. Verdant folds of silk spill from its confines to her ankles, where a glimpse of modestly-heeled black boots with golden eyelets can be seen. Garnet silk blossoms generously from above, draping from her shoulders and tapering down to end at fitted forearms.

Though soft, like her appearance, the dulcet tones of her voice possess a firmness to them as they roll from her lips with polished ease. Her bearing is one of dignified charm.

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