Şule "Whisk" Pura

***Name*** : Şule Pura

***Aliases*** : Whisk; Whiskey; Whisper

***Race*** : Swiftstride Shifter

***Sex*** : Female

***Age*** : 20 something

***Height & Weight*** : 5'00" 89 lbs

***Class & Subclass*** : Warlock of The Genie, Efreeti

***Visual Appearance(s)*** : In her true form, Whisk has scruffy shoulder-length Calico hair with bestial ears. She has tanned skin that is broken up by a form of vitiligo. Burn scars are prevalent all across her body at various stages of recovery. She has large pupiless yellow-honeyed eyes and several whiskers protruding from her cheeks and eyebrows. Typically she'll hunch or slink about when she walks, which makes her appear shorter. When talking to someone with her undivided attention, Whisk will stand up straight and puff in an attempt to be bigger than them.

She has many outfits for a variety of occasions, typically her attire is very free flowing and suited to hot weather. Her color-scheme often revolves around vibrant oranges, monochromatic colors, and gold. Unless Whisk is trying to hide herself she usually wears a black and burnt orange cloak with chained lanterns intertwined with its sleeves and whatever apparel is underneath of it. Her genie vessel appears as a gem-encrusted lantern with heavily clouded glass. When she isn't holding it, she has it attached at her hip and chained to her body alongside several newer and plain looking lanterns.

***Personality*** : ~Fire Obsessed, Vain, Dependent, Possessive, Reckless, Cat~

***Backstory*** : Whisk was born as Şule Pura, the only child of Asel and Savaş Pura. They ran a small tavern by a well in the center of a nameless village in a desert by the sea. It was around Şule's first birthday when her father was dragged away and executed for theft. There was no trial nor record of what was stolen, but all things considered this was fairly common especially for shifters. The work of running a tavern and raising a child fell solely on Asel's shoulders. It was rough beyond imagining, but somehow she managed year after year. Along the way, she turned to religion for strength, sharing these values with Şule.

As Şule grew, her mother kept her in sight at all times. Most of her childhood was spent peacefully inside the tavern staring into the hearth and interacting with patrons and the rare traveler. If Şule went outside, she wasn't to go past the well. There were only two other children in the town, both of them older than Şule by several years. Berna, a human girl, was the eldest by half a decade. The other was a tiefling child aptly nicknamed Curls on account of her horns. The three of them were fairly close and enjoyed each other's company.

Around Şule's 7th year, Curls and her were playing by the hearth when it started, a full scale assault conducted by unknown assailants, unprovoked and without warning. Try as they might, the townspeople were few and not trained fighters by any means. The assault seamlessly transitioned to a slaughter. No mercy, just blood, death, and despair. It was Curls' idea to hide in the well, but only Şule was small enough to fit down past the wooden coverings. Her descent was hasty and ungraceful, slamming into the water below. By some miracle, she managed to take hold of the center rope, pulling it taught to the pulley system above. She bobbed pathetically in the water as the screams of her neighbors, family, and friends echoed down to her. Fearful, wet, and cold she called out in prayer. Anyone, anything who would listen, she would do anything.

This went on for an undetermined amount of time. Eventually the screams and commotion died down and day turned to night. Hope faded as her body couldn't keep up with the physical strain of her situation. From the smoldering embers that floated down landing in the water around her, a voice was heard. As a young child in a desperate situation, she accepted any offer no matter the cost. Promises, a course of action, something to grasp at, to believe in. It filled her with warmth and kept her going. Several days passed, before the rope was hoisted up and Şule was greeted by a group of shady individuals calling themselves Incandescence. Magmus-Vul had vaguely sent them in a noncommittal fashion to, "Retrieve a whisker and add it to The Pyre." A heated debate ensued between the cultists about the true nature of the request, thankfully settling on the option that didn't involve literally burning a small child alive.

For a little over the next decade, Whisk devoted herself in her entirety to The Pyre and her patron, though many in the faith would scoff at that statement and revise it to 'causing unnecessary havoc and chaos around the temple like a selfish little she-devil.' She often found herself skirting the line of getting excommunicated multiple times growing up, but always managed to finagle her way back in, until a few months ago. Zaray, one of the leaders of Incandescence that would vouch for her, changed her views on Whisk after an incident occurred within their temple's library. As such her vote was the deciding factor in the decision to excommunicate Whisk from the sect of destruction. She was removed in a blaze of glory after having her back branded in the primordial tongue. Fire consumed her, gravely wounding her, and she was shunted into existence in a location entirely foreign to her.

***Notable Relationships*** :

The Cult of Incandescence : A religion dedicated to the Goddess of the Everlasting Pyre. Whisk was an active member of the sect of destruction for most of her life up until a few months ago when she was excommunicated and physically branded as punishment by the clergy.

Magmus-Vul : Whisk's patron and role model. One of the few who know Whisk's real name as it was written upon the creation of their pact. Both he and Whisk share similar madnesses and insanities thanks to the Rubic warping their desires from the transfer of power. The main ailment is a matter of single-minded obsession, once started it become neigh impossible to stop. Magmus-Vul specifically is obsessed with Fajra, doing whatever he can to gain her notice and favor. As such everything Whisk burns in dedication to him, is in dedication to the Goddess.

Fajra, Goddess of the Everlasting Pyre : She's pretty hot. Never met someone brighter. I'd love to blaze it with her. Smolder? I Hardly know her. These puns are ember-essing. Aight, I'm all burnt out. ~TBD~

The Party : Whisk believes that she owes Gorbax a life debt of some kind, as such she has been hanging around and getting to know him. She's found she enjoys his company enough to affectionately give him the nickname "Gorbie". Whisk currently has a fairly neutral outlook on Anak Skarn ever since he's come to the Gyre, pestering him occasionally just for fun. Whisk's current impression of Dagobert is quite poor, she enjoys when he's rude, but just not to her.

The Gyre : Currently, Whisk is a probationary member of the Gyre. Gorbax Furfoot and Gorse Treetalker brought her to the caravan several months ago after she was found heavily injured and covered in burns. Since then she's been sticking around and pestering the kind folks with her presence and dumb antics. She's particularly targeted Bradok Axebeard for his less than approving attitude towards her.