Cordir
AKA The Lady of Fate, Weaver Incarna
Retired Lesser Goddess

"Well, hello there..." The feminine voice is soft, gentle, and touched with pleased welcome at your visit.

A figure glowing with an Immortal's radiant power stands a slight distance away, the bright filaments of a web-shaped Pattern of light fading behind Her. She is short of stature, but has the ripe curves of a woman who has borne a child. Her silver hair pours down around her like a cloak, both concealing and framing her figure, oddly complimentary to her pale skin. Her eyes are a multifaceted blue, deep like indigo and bright like sapphires, and in them, there is no recrimination, only centuries of experience. In one hand, she holds a silver shuttle, the primary symbol of the Pattern that is Hers to Weave.

She smiles and invites you to relax and take your ease with a silent but eloquent gesture of one slim hand.

"It has been a long road to this place in time, has it not?" She lightly toys with a broad silver signet ring upon her left hand, and the smile turns tender and thoughtful. "More than centuries, I have watched this Realm grow, and come to know the people of it."

"My past," she says softly, her voice tinged with the slightest accent of the language known as Thoras, "is a tale far too long for this chat. Suffice it to say I have known every depth of emotion and experience. I have been soaked in a foe's blood, I have given birth. I have loved, I have hated, I have known joy, I have known sorrow. I have been slave, witch, guardian, criminal, wife, widow, mother, lover, leader, Weaver, lost, reborn."

She pauses, toying with a lock of hair, absentmindedly braiding it into an intricate nine-strand plait, and slowly paces the room, the hem of her flowing, deep blue dress trailing upon the grass.

"I have been given many titles over the years. Some complimentary, others not quite so." A wry smile creeps over her soft pink lips. "But the one that I treasure the most is friend and goddess. The Chosen of Fate are the focus of my existence, of my life. I have fought long and hard to lead them, and fought harder still to regain them after my Fall from Grace. Their loyalty and friendship is my greatest treasure, next to the love of the Stormreaver."

Her chin lifts proudly, almost defiantly.

"Yes, some would mock my vows to him. To the deepst hells with them. I have little care what others think of me, of my choices, or their own beliefs of what or who I should be, save the High Lord Tynian Himself, and those dear folk who have given me their sacred oaths and bear that Covenant upon their skin.

"I am myself. I am Cordir. I can be friend, I can be foe, I can be many, many things. Those who take the time to learn of who I truly am, and not listen to the mockery of the base, spineless scum of the Realm, will find me to be much different than the Ice-Queen I am often made out to be.

"I invite you to explore my home. If you come in courtesy and peace, be welcome. If you come in mockery or to shame, get ye gone."

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