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Nestled in the Southwest, just before Lintha territory, there is a small archipelago called the Misty Isles. Mostly focused on fishing and iron trade, the Isles were a balkanized conglomerate of loosely tied clans.
Legend said that the Misty Isles were once populated by a hideous legion of titanic creatures, themselves descended from the long-forgotten star priests who dwelled in the black oceans beneath Zen-Mu.
The legend goes that on arriving to the islands, the Clans fought a bitter war to claim the land from these creatures, and drove them beneath the tides. The truth is, though, that the Clans and these creatures interbred - most of the common folk and all of the royalty now bear this monstrous lineage.
Filonah was the young daughter of a chieftain, who thirsted for dominion over the isles enough to court the nearby Lintha. Unfortunately, for her, the alliance was a ploy - and before long Filonah would see her entire clan in ruin, and herself and her family sent abroad as slaves.
Receiving a high billing because of her lineage and rumored monstrous ancestry, Filonah caught the eye of a Chiaroscuran sorcerer and surgeon, one who was renowned for depraved necromantic studies of the intermingling of flesh, spirit and Chiaroscuran magical glass.
This surgeon was immediately struck by curiosity: Would this monstrous lineage, if true, result in a hardier, more resolute creature? Until then, most of his experiments had been entirely broken by the processes, good for little but basic servitude.
And so, the surgeon purchased Filonah and began his work. At first she attempted to resist, but over the months she was worn into a docile subject, as more and more of her body was traded away for animated artifacts of clockwork glass. First she lost her left eye, and then her left and right arms, all replaced with unearthly semi-human devices.
No one is quite sure what happened exactly in the surgeon's laboratory, in the end. All anyone knows is that one morning, at exactly dawn, a glorious many-colored explosion rocked the surgeon's laboratory.
From the wreckage climbed a single figure, covered in scars of torment and surgery, bloody beyond recognition and draped loosely in filthy rags and scraps.
But, through the scraps, as the figure shuffled into the depths of the city, parts of sunlight would strike her arms and face - and in those moments, the glass would glitter with the colors of the rainbow, turning the sunlight into slow liquids that struck the air with dazzling beauty.
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