<div class="floatleft">(https://78.media.tumblr.com/fe2510fb4d84cccd3dabe98795df6bb6/tumblr_p2cx31omIZ1utyn51o1_1280.png)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><strong>Khismia, or "Ruby Amberwithe"</strong></span></span><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 9pt;"><em>Lawful Good Halfling Unchained Monk 1 / Sacred Attendant Cleric of Arshea 3 (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1450275)</em></span><hr/><br/><strong>Concept:</strong>A Qadiran nomad-monk who, stranded in a strange world, has taken on a life of entertainment through bellydancing; She proselytizes to her fans and acquaintances about the faiths she brought from Golarion, all while seeking enlightenment through experience.<br/><br/><strong>Background:</strong>Aakif was fortunate, for an orphan. When the weeping plague burned through the streets of Lopul, laying low camel-herd and merchant prince alike, the monks of the joyous cloud took in the halfling babe left squalling in the streets. Along with a dozen other such foundlings, Aakif - as the gardener who tended him named the boy - was raised in the curious culture of the monks. Combining traditions of their distant Vudran forbears and their long history in Qadira, the monks of the joyous cloud combined discipline and contemplation with bouts of exuberance and passion, which they called aydinlatma.<br/><br/>When he came of age, Aakif took a sleeping roll, a belt of horsehair, and an alms bowl, and left the monastery. It was tradition, to see the world as it is, rather than simply contemplating it from within walls. Before he got fore than five streets away from the monastery walls, Aakif was punched in the head and his bowl stolen. It would have been shameful to run back, not even half an hour gone! The took the loss in stride, a learning experience. After a few more of these, Aakif had figured out how to fight back and protect himself. it took another two scuffles for Aakif to come to a realization; he would never be safe along on the streets of Lopul, and would never learn much more than thievery, moneylending, and head-punching.<br/><br/>The caravan-master he approached was more than happy to bring the young monk along; halflings are good luck, eat little, and the monks of Lopul were known to be good fighters (even if this one looked a little bruised.) On the long journeys on the Golden Path through Qadira, Aakif learned a great many things. One of the most important was that he loved to dance; through the movements he felt<em>aydinlatma</em>, that surge of joy and closeness to all things. He also enjoyed being painted and dressed by the women of the caravans, and the applause of the men - and making love to both. In time, Aakif abandoned the name he had been given, and instead took the name Khismia and began living as a woman even when not dancing.<br/><br/>It was in the dry borderlands between Katheer and Taldan that the<em>event</em>happened. Khismia, several goats, and a handful of other caravaneers took one step too many and ended up in a rainy cobble-lined city that smelled of smoke and howled with bustle; Atlanta, she learned it was called. Apparently several members of a marching band had vanished into thin air to be replaced with Khismia and her fellows. Coming to terms with this new place has been a challenge. Just the chaos of those first two years was maddening! Learning the language was probably the hardest part. The culture was so alien that Khismia mostly gave up trying to conform. Fortunately, these days there are outlets for that; it's 1924, after all! Khismia has taken the stage name "Ruby," and once again dances. She was overjoyed to learn that this world has similar dances, and has been busy seeking out and practicing with like-minded men and women. Along the way, she tries to spread the philosophy of aydinlatma, and the faiths she was brought up with; the lover-goddesses Shelyn and Sarenrae, and the servants of dance, Arshea and Avasha. While this has made her pretty popular among some of the more hip crowd, it<em>has</em>on occasion led to trouble with the local faith leaders and authorities...<br/><br/><strong>Description:</strong>Ruby only stands three feet and two inches tall, and is built as light as a feather. Her caramel-hued skin is accented by a speckling of freckles earned in the sun, offset by clear amber eyes and thick, dark brown hair. Her form is slender, with a slight chest and narrow hips, what curves are there are easy to see as she favors the form-fitting dresses of the day, worn just below the knee. On stage - or when she feels like it - she dons the garb she brought to this world, an assortment of veils, ribbons, chimes, and airy fabric that allow for total freedom of movement; when so revealed, it's clear that the small woman has a core of taut, sleek muscle, which she moves with deliberate grace. She speaks with a rich timbre, at least considering her sex and size, and laughs easily and fully.<br/><br/><strong>Sexuality:</strong>On the long caravan trips, Ruby found pleasure and companionship with men and women alike, with halflings, with humans and elves. Aside from the apparent need for more discretion, that hasn't really changed much in this world. Though she doesn't have the word for it, she would be considered fully pansexual.