Thera cannot be “seen” by those who without some form of magical vision. Instead, her presence is only noted by the bizaare eddies of wind, and the tense static of coming lightning that seems to follow her. So too, does her voice ride on the wind, a hollow keen full of mourning. Those few capable of seeing her will see little more than a swirling mass of magical winds in a shape only roughly humanoid. The even fewer capable of seeing spirits may see a beautiful, slender human woman, dressed in a finely woven, pale blue robe, bearing a recurve bow upon her back and a quiver of arrows at her hip.
Once, years ago, Thera was a relatively normal human woman. Born to the unwed daughter of the village mayor about nine months after an adventuring party passed through, her childhood was plagued by the lack of a father, though her mother often spoke of his wondrous magics. As she grew, she found herself with a certain gift for controlling the winds about her. As her abilties with her gift grew, the small village she grew up in seemed to turn cold to her, to begin to fear her. Each month that passed seem to mark a new distance, until early one spring when a group of adventurers passed through her village. Noticing her talents, they asked her if she would like to accompany them, and with little left to tie her to her home besides her parents, she agreed gladly.
On the road, weeks turned into months, and months into years, and she found that the adventuring made her party more like kin than her family had ever been, except for one other member. Tall and lean, with glistening, onyx skin, the warrior Anron was first her lover, and after a simple ceremony in an unnamed lake, her husband. For nearly a half a decade more, Thera found that she was happy, even through the dangers, and she also found her talents expanding, growing with every encounter.
And then, the metamorphosis occurred. In order to halt the occurance of a foul and powerful summoning, she enacted a ritual calling upon of the storm. With the dimensional barriers already stressed by the dark magic, her own casting took a violent and powerful life of its own, shattering the evil temple as a man might kick a sandcastle. Moreover, the spell rent her body to tatters in a burst of searing pain, all the while pouring power into her soul. When the magics subsided, she found her party dead about her… and that she lacked a true corporeal form to call her own.
A creature made entirely of wind, Thera is amazingly difficult to actually hurt. If, by some magics, someone is successful in disrupting her body, the next wind that blows will find itself attached to her spirit, and she will reform from this swiftly. In the months that followed her transformation, she learned to control her new body as well as her old, and is now capable of manipulating small objects, though she must rely on magics to move heavy weights.
In combat, she will strike primarily with wind, lightning, and distintegration spells, counting on her ephemerability to protect her from foes.
However, what she truely seeks is to have her husband, and if at all possible, her adventuring group, returned to her. She has secreted the bodies away in a grove of trees, and set wind elementals to guard them. Feeling pity for her, the dryads of the grove have agreed to preserve the bodies, until such a time as Thera has died, or until she finds someone with the power to return them to life. To have Anron returned to her, the price that she will pay is really quite enormous.