A figure strides through the room with a silken glee. The various Kuo-Toa fall at her feat with mad supplication. Offering her bowls of their own flesh or displays of pain as some openly wound themselves before her. Her cowl drops just enough for him to realize the eyes he thinks he is looking at are astral mirror shards wedged into the sockets where once eyes had been. The corners of her mouth stretch in a slashed extension up the side of her mutilated face. Though, despite all that she portents to be. A glance at the edge of her ear shows elvish ears cut down to nearly ineffectual knuckles. Revealing a gnarled and twisted form. Two wounded wings unfurl with clear indications of former seraph-like eyes about them. Most have been gouged out, but two among them remain at a diagonal from each other. Black hagstone pins her flesh in peeled back intricate and labyrinthine segments. Looking at her, it's not entirely clear how a creature this clearly injured could stand.

Beginning at the feet, you see scarred infernal flesh clad in elegant braided sandals of black leather. Rolling up, her legs are clad in tight fabric of darkest red, and a bright crimson drape hangs from the front and back of her belt. Her mid rift is left bare to showcase more bare skin, covered in ritualistic scars and daemonic imagery, before once more being hidden by a modest red chest wrap, over which is a mantle of black feathers. Her shoulders and upper arms are bare, but the forearms and hands are covered in dark red gloves adorned with more of the black feathers. The gloves are fingerless, revealing gnarled, clawed fingers. Over the creature’s eyes is a red blindfold, form fitting and broad, with blue crystal embroidered into its center in the form of a single stylized eye, glowing with a piercing azure like the gaze of a cycloptic sentinel – its glow fueled by the Nefarix’s own shining astral orbs. Finally, a golden brooch is upon the mantle, depicting a horned creature. A chain runs from it up to the fallen angels neck, wrapping around it. The chain is thicker than most jewelry, almost unusually so, but someone as strong as the person wearing it should be able to break it – and maybe, just maybe, that was the designer’s intent. If she wishes, a folded cloak of more black feathers, masterfully pocketed and hidden within the drape, can be unfurled, complete with a hood, allowing her to hide her nature with only a moments notice