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Lachmyra once held an immaculately sweet face.

But it has since become something haunted although, in certain circles, there is beauty in this as well. Sweetness touched with a melancholic bitterness. High and noble cheekbones terminate into a pointed chin with oft expressionless pink lips, brilliant but hollow cyan eyes usually downcast, and hair in the bloodline's favored near white which is worn often in a bushy tail with hanging strands to the sides or, in more private moments, allowed to spill down the back.

She has maintained a high level of fitness, however, and her limbs and sleek figure are suited to her style of swordsmanship.

The strange young woman is a wandering knight. There are some that have called her demure but she is not shy, simply -- hushed. She often avoids direct eye-contact and can seem distant or entirely vacant (at the worst of times).

Her smiles are poetically sad things and her penchant for solitude makes it seem that she is standing alone, even in a crowded space. She has not, however, lost her sense of duty and when she is prone to act it feels mechanical but honed; her face often falling to something of an expressionless countenance.