The young woman sat drinking wine, watching and listening. What ever coin she had or made, usually went into the coffers of the barkeepers of inns and taverns. She needed lodging, a bit of food and a lot of wine. Sometimes she drank to forget, sometimes to remember. In any case, it calmed her fears and sometimes dulled the visions and the voices. Mira Silvana walked a strange and dangerous line between seeking danger and fleeing from it; between destorying evil, to becoming it. It was the story of her life, at least since she became a young adult, not quite yet twenty years of age.<br/><br/>She was dressed in mementos, scraps and odd trinkets from the monsters she had killed so far, which were just a few. She had a a bit of black leather. Clawed skeletal hands were fastened as a grisly bustier. Some creature's teeth were make-shift pearls in an armband. Her long white hair was tied back with bands from a goblin's armor straps. Between her full breasts dangled a faint-glowing crystal from a thin chain. It matched the green of her eyes. It would be hard to name her profession from looking at her. If anyone asked, she was an adventurer; seeking fame and fortune. What she really craved was the thrill of the hunt. And more wine.<br/><br/>That was just 10 and 9 on the Insight checks for the vistani man and genasi woman.