Twyst
Twyst moves with the calm certainty of one who has watched towers crumble from beneath. Slender, quick-footed, her long fingers stained with mine dust and powder alike, she wears the vestments of revolt rather than war—leather vest, tool-belt of pick and blade, and a pendant shaped like an uprooted sapling. Her eyes carry no glamour—but quiet fire.
Her partner and dalliance Quake stands at her side with crown dreams—he speaks of rulership and change through power. Twyst sees those dreams as illusions. She wants not a new king but no king at all. She presses for dismantling: of feudal lords, of forced labour, of courts that silence song. She infiltrates council meetings pretending clerk-scribe, she slips into the mines at midnight to whisper plans, she walks among workers who see neither glory nor reward.
In daylight she appears modest—a diligent worker, ledger open and quill poised. But when twilight comes, she stands before her cell of rebels, her voice shrill but directive, mapping lines of fracturing between the ruling houses. She believes the system must first be broken before it can be built anew. Her ambition isn’t for a throne—it is for a blank slate.
Current Location
Species
Ethnicity
Spouses
Quake
(Courted)
Siblings
Children
Gender
Woman
Aligned Organization