Honor: Regular Name: Sib Thrace Age: 40 Gender: Female Race: Hylian Place of Origin: Refugee of the Eastern Caves P/W/C: 2/4/1 Treasures: Sense Spin Attack Lovers' Bond (-50) Gift of Prophecy (-50) 0 rupees left Height: 5' 6" Weight: 128 lbs Equipment: Steel Longsword: Twin to her husband's longsword. this well-kept, sharp steel blade is just under three and a half feet in length. A simple cross-guard separates blade from leather-bound, sweat-stained hilt, which adds another ten inches to the length. When not used, it sits in a wooden and hardened leather scabbard at her left hip. Steel Dagger: Also a carefully made twin to her husband's blade, this weapon's double edged, lovingly sharpened steel is fourteen inches long. A simple round hand-guard and an eight-inch hilt bound in leather and cloth completes the well-kept, ever-lethal instrument. As with her husband's, when not in use this dagger sits just behind her sword at her left hip in a leather sheath. Battered Wooden Heater shield: A relatively simple square piece of wood that tapers off gently at the bottom to a sloping point. The front face is battered and scarred from dozens of blows caught on its surface, the reverse side is reinforced with strips of iron and a loose pair of leather straps by which to hold it. One of the straps is adjustable, allowing it to be slung across her back. Armored wear and hip-pack: Much like her husband, Sib's clothing is meant for travel as well as combat. Hard, rugged boots, pants of supple leather and cloth with an aged belt to hold them up. A simple cloth shirt over which a sleeveless, padded gambeson is placed, cut to just reach her waist. Over that a high-collared jacket of cloth and leather, reinforced in the shoulders and elbows with hardened leather. Leather fighting gloves and hardened leather arm-braces finish out her traveling attire. At her right hip is a small pack that contains a decent supply of food, a few coins and a pristine, carefully kept gold ring. Her clothing's color is a mix of blues, greys and faded greens, patched a myriad of times, it still holds up. Appearance: Fit, lithe, sinewy, all of these things Sib is. The pale, milky-skinned woman cuts a slender, feral figure. Red hair cut painfully close to her head. Icy green eyes that seem to pierce all but the most resolute of opponents, a button nose that some might call cute. Full lips, dirty teeth and an over-all sarcastic, far-off expression to her thin face, as though she thinks the entire universe might be playing a joke on her. Or she on it. A myriad of small scars and nicks dot her pale cheeks and face, telling a history of violence and survival. Her left ear is missing its tip, lost during some battle long ago. This lack of a point gives her face a bit of an off-kilter look, when seen from straight-on. She also bears a long painful scar across her belly, though it is finally starting to fade with time. Otherwise, her frame is what you'd expected for a hardened fighter who's combated Ganon's minions (and anyone else, really) for the past decade and a half, while also being only a few days away from starvation at any one point. Born and raised in the desert lands, Sib's one outward annoyance with her appearance (though admittedly, she secretly likes it) is the fact that her pale skin has stayed in a seeming permanent fashion. She burns quite easily, but doesn't tan in the slightest. Personality: Sib is, for the most part, eternally sarcastic, lonely, and wary of the world as a whole, other people in particular. A large chunk of this is due to lack of sleep. Having constant dreams (she calls them nightmares) about the future is not exactly the best way to sleep soundly, considering the marauding minions of Ganon's. Most of her eccentricities and personality traits can be traced, at least partially, back to the fact that she can see the future in dreams. And that she most definitely has a love-hate relationship with that part of her. Stand-offish, distrustful in the extreme, terse and apt to just up and leaving conversations. Sib tries not to get to know anyone she meets, mostly due to the fact that she quite often sees them die horribly in her dreams. Yet, for all of that, she sort of . . .(not that she'd ever admit to it, you see) likes the world as it is. The constant unknown and shifting futures occasionally gives her mind a respite, for the night. To her way of thinking, the more confusing the future is, the less likely she is to dream about it. Something of a curiosity when it comes to Sib, however. Is that for all of her wariness of the world and its inhabitants, this red-headed, grim woman saved, and then fell in love with another wandering soul such as her. Their affair tumultuous and explosive, her withdrawn, paranoid mind never once thinks of leaving the man with whom she more often trades snide remarks than loving kisses. And that would be in no small part due to the fact that she's seen him several times in her dreams, and to her constant befuddlement, he's always with her. The thought of leaving "him" has never once entered her mind, even through all of their vexations. But she is eternally confused as to why he doesn't leave "her". This only gives evidence to the fact that she and her husband are uniquely suited to being married to one another. Further evidence is given via the fact that they haven't killed each other yet. Her sharp tongue and quick wit in combat give insight to a curious, keen mind. Her almost manic love of the same indicates for all of her dour, sardonic nature, she's quite at home on the field of battle. And over the past decade and a half, she's become quite an adept combatant. When not fighting, she speaks rarely, unless its to wrangle up a client. At her most talkative when alone with Jax, she often enjoys mental sparring with her husband on the nature of the past, present and future. That or making fun of his taste in women, which she generally finds abhorrent. (She much prefers light-colored hair in her partners. He's a fan of darker hair). Also known, ever-so-rarely, to break out into song, her soft lilting voice can carry a tune quite well, though her choice of songs is more than a little random. Residence: N/A Pet: N/A Backstory: Imagine that before you ever came out of the womb, you had a dream about your parents abandoning you. Sib had that dream. Of course, she didn't understand it at the time. Nor the words to describe what she felt besides heart wrenching anguish at the thought of being abandoned at birth. As she grew older, the dream stayed with her, returning at least once a week to make itself known. Considering from the moment she was born into the community of Rauru, she had the distinct impression that her parents hated her, and that she had dreams of the future, it's a small miracle she didn't go mad. What she did though, was withdraw, becoming immediately distrustful of everything and everyone around her. The family upon who's doorstep she was left were kind enough, in that they took care of her until she reached her late teens. But they were hard pressed to get through to the growing girl who's dreams were wracked with visions of the future, causing her to wake with screams most nights. They finally parted ways when she was eighteen, leaving her to find work any way she could, in the villiage. Generally turned away from work due to her stand-offish personality, she desperately tried to find someone, anyone that would hire her. Hoping to find a purpose or a trade with which to get her out of the town she couldn't stand to be in. So, she tried to join the town-guard. And was immediately laughed out of the barracks for being the crazy, skinny girl known to shy away from anyone and everything, how could she learn to actually "fight"? Something in her sparked, at that. Of being thought so pathetic that she couldn't defend something if she set her mind to it. Of being so broken that she was wholly useless. One of the guards even made the unfortunate error of remarking that she might have better luck being a whore. After they finally dragged her skinny form off the battered guard who'd uttered those words, the captain of the guard (out of bemusement, if nothing else) decided that such a feral rage packed into an unassuming body might make a decent guard, if she was willing to learn. She was given a cell to cool down in for the night, and then in the morning was given the offer to join. She accepted without a backward glance. Extremely strict ground rules were laid out for her, and the man who'd laughed in her face was handed the task of training the nineteen year old, teaching her to fight and maybe, just maybe, try to give her reason to defend a town she only stayed in because she saw no other options. He was successful in one of those tasks. Over the next few years, until her early twenties, her dreams subsided for the most part. What few came were mostly peaceful, and she took some small comfort in the knowledge that perhaps she'd made it through the turbulence to a sea of calm night's sleep. So Sib became a lonesome, tight-lipped guard, continually training. Striking up one of her few friendships with the man who trained her. She continued on, learning what she could. Around the time she thought she might. . . just maybe, have grown to like the town. It was assaulted by Ganon's forces. Again, something in her sparked at the attack. She may not have liked the town. But . . .blast it, it was "technically" her town. The martial prowess of the city could not withstand the assault, however. And covered in blood and gore, she and her fellows were finally forced to retreat. Her friend and tutor did not survive the assault. Devoid of one of the few friends she had, and the town she'd just grudgingly started to like, Sib wandered with the refugees to the Eastern caves. She joined up with the many patrols sent out to defend against Ganon's forces. In one moment of exceptional clarity, Sib's visions led her and a patrol she was with to save the man she would marry not six months later, Jax Thrace. Atfer their brief ceremony in the Eastern caves, and without every specifically agreeing to anything, the two broke away from the rest of the Hylians and struck off on their own. Finding in each other something they'd found no where else, no matter how hard they'd tried. Acceptance.
