The young Tiefling's horns spiral elegantly skyward, meeting her dark purple skin just above her large eye sockets, which seem supernaturally dark save for the curious, bright white eyes in their centers. Yumeia is roughly six feet tall. Around her eyes, she still bears the tattoos of her forsaken birth family.

The destitute wanderer calling herself Yumeia of Oakstorm was born as none of those things. 

She was once quite wealthy, or at least, her family was. Far from an eager traveler, you'd rarely find her far from home. Her name from birth was certainly not Yumeia, nor was she born in Oakstorm - though much of her kin's wealth was seized from the island and smaller outlying ones. And though she may have once been, she's not entirely certain she's still perfectly sane.

Yumeia's birth family styled themselves Lords of the Abyss, a noble family exiled long ago by the social elite of Oakstorm for the dread practices they carry on to this day, black magic and ritual sacrifice to countless, nameless gods of the deep and endless oceans. Although they were expelled, they did not leave without bringing with them as much wealth as they could save and a loyal household, bound to exile with their newly disgraced masters, or to the prisons of Oakstorm for having aided them in their taboo practices.

For decades her family lived on in a humble outpost built clinging to the edge of a narrow volcanic island, jutting out of the roiling waters like a fang. With just enough space for a dock and little else, the exiled Tiefling clan carved their home further into the island over the years until it became a sprawling, cavernous fiefdom of its own. Pirates and merchants alike that dared to traverse the treacherous waters surrounding the island were known to disappear from their ships, and many sailors suspect, end up drowned as sacrifice to eldritch beings.

But for all her life, the young 19-year-old Tiefling never felt at home on her exiled family's feared island. As a girl she would wrap herself in thick cloaks to protect from the violent storms outside, walk out onto the dock that serviced their home, and glance upward. Occasionally, through the endless storms of the lower sea, a ray of sunlight would pierce the clouds and she would catch a glimpse of the sky above. For just a moment, she once saw a ship soaring over the storms that battered her home. That single sighting inspired her.

From then on, throughout her childhood and into young adulthood, she strove to mask her disapproval of her birth family's ways, the reaping and killing done in the name of profit and arcane power. She bore the ceremonial tattoos her kin shared to mark their devotion to their gods, but it was a facade. At times, Yumeia thought she was going mad. The faintest whispers seemed to creep into her mind, but it wasn't a malevolent voice. It was something light, lovely, like the sky she yearned to see. It made her feel odd, and when that odd and indiscernible voice spoke to her at night, it moved her to tears.

She still doesn't know what, if anything, is calling out to her. The phenomenon is barely audible enough to hear, but she often feels its presence. Eventually, at 15, she swore to leave her family behind and balance their wrath with righteousness, give instead of taking, and help rather than hinder. As her kinsmen had seemed to grow suspicious of her, she agreed to take part in a raiding voyage one day. By that age, it was expected she began to use the martial skills her people survived with to earn her keep while securing wealth and sacrifices for the Lords of the Abyss.

Yumeia, drawn overboard by the eerily beautiful voices that called to her, made her escape via a blind leap of faith into the dangerous seas. She wasn't certain if it would be her death or her salvation, or if she was still sane, perhaps broken by a short life of being complicit in murder and more.

But when she eventually awoke, beaten badly by the sea, mouth tasting of salt and barely able to stand, she found herself attended to by a band of local fishermen. The 15-year-old runaway was hardly received favorably by all of these human settlers. Some considered her a bad omen, others a lost child. Yumeia did what she could to help the small community, rather than become another mouth to feed. It's then, in the privacy of her room one night, she formalized a promise to work as a force for good in the world via a makeshift "oath" whispered to some unknown, benevolent force. Alongside her new oath, she took a new name.

Now, however, she realizes she's unlikely to effect much change without a ship, money, or a crew to join. The life of a pirate sounds little different than the common thievery and raiding she was tempted to escape, but she is holding out hope she could find a well-meaning band. At any rate, steady work is better than twiddling her thumbs and starving. Yumeia has enough basic maritime and combat experience to be helpful, she hopes, to any ship in need.