Being an artisan first and a merchant second afford Astria a measure of wealth and independence. She specializes in creating jewelry and art pieces with semi-precious/precious stones and metals. Most of her income comes from works commissioned by the wealthy denizens of Widow’s Edge and the surrounding towns. She also owns and operations a little curio shop.
At first glance Astria appears to be just what she projects the artsy shop owner with a hello and smile for all that she encounter. If one were to look closer they would see the energy that pulses around her, the alertness in eyes, the readiness to act at a moments notice. Astria is more than a mere shop owner; she really returned to Widow’s Edge to investigate the attacks on the towns that started when she was a child and claimed the life of her father. During the daylight hours she works as jewelry/art maker but when darkness falls she slides into the night like others slide into clothes. Astria’s mode of dress when doing her nightly patrols is a black shirt, black pants and black suede boots. She also wears a black scarf and veil to hide her hair and face. Her weapons of choice is the katana sword, which she wears, strapped to her back and a set of seven throwing knives that are secured to her upper right thigh by a leather strap. During the daylight hours the weapons are cleverly hidden under her clothes.
Two adventurers retiring in their prime, or are they really retiring? Set themselves up as proprietors of a Weapnsmithe and a Tavern but still have there fingers deep on the pulse of adventure.
An ancient old man, whose seen his fair share of bar fights. Still vigourous despite his age, he knows the tales and legends of the surronding area almost as well as he knows the chipped steins of his inn.
By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?