Name: Syvlie Eleanor Desmarais
Appearance: Physically, she is a rather petite woman. Slender but most obviously a woman. She inherited her mother's red hair and pale skin, the latter being a nuisance more often than not; her green eyes a gift from her father. She has the more delicate features of her elf mother, as well as her height but the typical mixing of human appearance.
Personality: As per most roguish individuals, Sylvie has a very smooth personality. Charisma should, in all honesty, be her middle name. She is the perfect mix of sweet and sultry, able to switch her personality to whatever would best suit the circumstances. She can be a brilliant friend but a terrible enemy. Generally, Sylvie is a pleasant individual but she is sharp-witted and impatient; occasionally hot-headed and often possesses a barbed tongue. She is more likely to convince an enemy to stab himself than to draw her own daggers.
Sylvie loves horses and cats; her opinion of dogs varies by the particular animal. She too loves the sea but mostly looking at it; she gets terribly seasick. She holds a particular fondness of cheeses and wines and a distinct disdain for strong ale or salted meats.
Her father, at the ripe young age of 18, had been a chevalier of Orlais. Sent to Denerim merely two years before the Ferelden rebellion, Christophe Desmarais found himself uncontrollably in love with the elf housekeeper of the house he had his comrades had been implemented into. He had been raised as nobility in Orlais but decided one day that he would return to his home with the city-born elf that shared his love of horses. Narrowly escaping death more than once, Christophe begged the woman to marry him (despite her family's disbelief in the shem's sincerity) and eventually convinced her to return to his home country. He was met with no love from his family and, with a very small stipend from the country for his time in the army, he and Surai made for Jader. It took the two of them a few years to build their life together and, after some consternation, they were finally blessed with their oldest child, Phillipe. It was not until 9:10 Dragon that the fiery Sylvie was born.
Their life in the coastal town of Jader was mostly uneventful until Christophe passed away at the young age of forty-eight. It was sudden and most certainly unnatural. Phillipe had gone off to become a chevalier, as his father had years before. Sylvie remained at home to help on the farm that her parents had started years ago - also to study under the once-illustrious rogue that she lovingly called 'Papa'.
One of the things she learned was about poisons. She knew her father's death was caused by one in particular - the signs were obvious. After some trouble acquiring the ingredients, she distilled a very small vial. She swore she would find the individual that took her father (and subsequently her mother, because Surai did not live much longer for the want of Christophe) someday and the poison that she manufactured was to be reserved for him.
Sylvie practiced the art of dueling religiously when she was not tending to the horses or the fields; her brother returned periodically until the year 9:29. He was to be sent home and there was no sign of him. As the days passed and Phillipe did not return, Sylvie grew worried.
A missive arrived one day as she was brushing one horse in particular. It was coded and, at first, Sylvie could make no sense of it. It grew apparent to her that it was a bizarre mixture of Orlesian and the King's Tongue of Ferelden, both of which she and Phillipe were well-versed in. As she uncovered the code, Sylvie also discovered that her brother had defected to Kirkwall. He would not explain why but asked her to join him.
Sylvie, not believing that her brother would do such a thing, discerned that something was most definitely amiss. With no choice but to investigate, she sold off the horses within days and did her best to sell the farmhouse and attached land. Months later but still before any darkspawn sightings, Sylvie found a ship that would take her to Kirkwall.