Read Her History Through Joining the Harpers
What Happened After Harperdom? Read the Logs!
Kristiana always knew she would be a harper. Her mother, a former harper journeyman, taught her two daughters everything she knew about the craft. So, when Kris reached fifteen turns, she decided to join the craft. She became quite a skilled harpist and singer, though no one ever saw her use her talents, but after four turns as an apprentice, Kristiana realized she wasn't happy in the hall. She loved the crafters; she loved playing. But she felt she would be an apprentice forever. So, at nineteen turns, she left the hall she'd always trained for, becoming... of all things... a bartender.
Black hair, lined with occasional, natural auburn streaks, hangs straightly to Kristiana’s lithe shoulders. Her petite, 5’5” frame, once gangly, confidently flaunts tanned armed and legs. Long, thin fingers tap against her thighs or nearby surfaces in habitual patterns, and barely-there scars from instrument strings stain her fingertips. Thin, red lips quirk upwards into a seemingly-permanent, kind smile, and gentle humming or whistling dances from her mouth. Widened, blue-green eyes appear to ask questions and show genuine concern in the answers. Whenever upset, however, these expressive orbs storm like Ista’s salted waters, while dark eyebrows furrowed in lecturing displeasure. The hem of Kristiana’s multicolored skirt slants downward from her left shin to right ankle. The fabric slides along her legs, not afraid to reveal demure curves of hips and thighs. Zigzagged vertical stripes of blue, red, orange and green line the silky skirt. A blue shirt clings to her top, the thing material plain. She generally pushes the sleeves to her elbows, revealing a silver bracelet hanging loosely around her right hand, the charm of a harp resting along the inside of her wrist, and silver earrings peek from behind black locks. Perched on Kristiana's shoulder is Gwyned. Grendel dozes on Kristiana's shoulder.
Quite an odd task for the innocent holder girl who'd hardly had a glass of wine in her life.
However, it appeared even this wouldn't stay the same forever. Despite her fondness for her job and besides finally being near her closest friends, she accepted an invitation. During a work shift, she had met a traveler named Debajirin, only to see him Searched, Impress, and... go through no telling what else. Nevertheless, she chose to be with him, and she moved to Ista Weyr.
Life continued, though Kris never quite settled to weyr life, despite attempts. Highlights greeted her, including stumbling upon an old friend, Harper Senior Journeyman Kristiana, who welcomed Kristiana back to the craft with a tutor knot. Unhappiness ensued, and, nearing the birth of she and D'baji's first child, she revealed her sentiments to her weyrmate--she missed SeaCliffs and her friends, and, though she still loved him, he wasn't the same man she first assumed she could live with. She decided to leave the weyr and return to SeaCliffs, young Basjeian in her arms, to share her time between her life with her friends and her duty to her undeniable path as a harper.
themselves in a blanket across body's thick framework, opulescent bundles of energy that leak into otherwise sluggish movements. The steely, wicked curve of his claws is echoed in the arid spiral of gunmetal gray as circumses headknob and eyes' berth, an iron crown amongst glittering sovereinty. His neck's gentle curve is belied by the arrogant tilt to star-smattered wings, just as impish curiosity accompanies cheek-and-muzzle's white-bright freckling, halted by snout's imperious tilt and the intense whirl of sun-struck orbs.Grendel
Ominous grey looms heavily above hazel head knobs, whirling eyes beacons to beckon on unwary travellors 
through the mist that enshrouds his brown-hued figure. Gaunt muzzle oozes with muddy brown, flecks of salt mixed in among it, dappled all over his dainty head. Gaunt figure is a bit too thin - though not unhealthy - his dark coloring not helping to plumpen him out at all. Near-black flows across his barely-there belly, mixed with copper streaks and nutty swirls. Salt-n-pepper covers his back in low-lying cloud, silvery flecks visible within, looming sordidly above the more cheerful coppery mix below. His wings are dappled brown and grey, a mixed cocktail across thin membranes, sparked by silver lightning.
I'd like to thank Kryz for his mahvelous drawing of Kris and suggest that everyone check out his other harper pics at http://www.stormpages.com/kryzdracokin/project.html!
