A small doll that stands at about 3'1, a smile always plastered on Nelly's face. Those who looked at her shining eyes would see nothing more then the dark material, no true life shown. Across her body there are small black dots and patches, burn marks no doubt.

She is always purposely vague when asked about herself, the topic always shifted to another person... whether this is because she doesn't want to tell, or just can't remember is unknown. She claims to be a pacifist, but not weak, her playing of the hand harp almost invigorating, the whispers from the strings able to stitch wounds or freeze the nerves, calm the soul or horrify the masses.

The reason for this small being's pain was cruel, a classic tale of one who knows no good being abused. When Nelly was young, she was found by a woman she had no name for, one she called 'Mother'. This mother of hers was a cruel woman, a collector of the strange and unfortunate. She saw Nelly as the perfect servant, the naive threadborn thinking this was just how a mother treated her daughter. Any time the doll acted out of line, voiced an opinion or simply made a mistake, she would be burnt, the cruel woman using Nelly to snuff her cigars. This made the fire that took the house down all the more fulfilling, Nellies only act of violence being to kill that horrific lady and all she stood for.