The spare daughter of a spare daughter, so far down in the tangled mess of brevic nobility that she was nearly worthless as a barganing chip for a political alliance, Lissandra might as well had been born invisible. As she grew, her life amounted to one more grandkid for her patriarch's endless experimentation on the art of warfare. As the backbone of the Brevic army, house Khavortorov has tried to refine the techniques of multiple combat styles for generations, with minor members of the noble family being the guinea pigs who would be thaught these variant styles so the main branch could judge their usefulness. For Lissandra, it was a combination of the traditional dueling style of the Aldori with more southern variants from the lion blades of taldor and other schools of swashbuckling.

When the day of the trial came, Lissandra's grandfather judged her graceful feints unnecessary and her dueling cape as a liability, arguing that the aldori tradition of keeping a hand free would make balancing easier and result in more consistant victory. Just like that, any chance Lissandra ever had of becoming a relevant family memeber vanished. While her life was now her own, she found herself without propouse, spending days and nights indulging in her mother's favourite passtimes: reading and the opera. But eventually, the modest library on the castle ran out of interesting books, and the opera hall of New Stetven ran out of all originality in their plays. Restless and without propouse, Lissandra used her family's money to wander arround avistan, wishing nothing more than a play worth her ear and a cause worth her blade.

She eventually found both of these things in the silver city of Kintargo, on the northern border of Cheliax. The opera halls were magnificent, the plays spectacular and the infernal influence of the Thrune just a distant whisper, which nobody seemed to pay attention to. Settled in a small manor in the greens, she enjoyed her life on the city for two winters, until the morning when Barzilai Thrune closed down the opera house and declared martial law two weeks ago. Not only did he impose all manner of taxes and ridiculous proclamations, he had the nerve to take the opera house as his residence and close it to the public! furthermore, not a single men or woman on the greens was bright enough to see that those who suffered the most from the situation were not the bored nobles without opera to watch, but the poor people whose temples had been burned, unions had been closed and had to face a tremendous degree of corruption from the dottari. Finally having found a problem worth her blade and inspired by the legend of Jackdaw, a vigilante who defended the poor during the chelish civil war, Lissandra sewed herself a costume and a mask, creating the alias of the scarlet wing. While her firsts night excursions accomplished little more than stopping a cutpurse and an extortion by a drunk guard, the upcoming protest in Aria Park seems like the perfect place to show the city that heroes emerge when they need them the most.