A long, long time ago, there lived a woman in the capital of Aravia. Born to an Elven noble line, she knew neither hardship nor want. Serris – for that is what she had been named by her loving mother – was a shrewd child and greedily consumed whatever knowledge her private tutors could provide. It was not long until her magical aptitude manifested, and the young girl had been granted an education in matters arcane.
In time, Serris grew up to be a great mage. She was talented, daring, and fiercely intelligent. But no matter how far she pushed her talents, it was never enough. Her ultimate goal was simple, crude even, but so very desirable – eternal life and youth. And to achieve that, she delved into the forbidden lore. Carefully at first, cautious of what horrors it might unleash. But as the answer eluded her, Serris lost count of the lines she had crossed.
A lesser practitioner of the Dark Arts would have been long caught and banished or worse, yet Serris remained a step ahead of her would-be persecutors. Ever friendly and charismatic, she managed to frame several rivals and escape the consequences of her crimes. And so, as years passed, she slowly puzzled small pieces of lore together, crafting a ritual that she believed would grant her unfading beauty.
It required a great deal of preparation, exotic ingredients, and, worst of all, the sacrifice of her own blood. Deep in the darkest night, Serris gathered all the required reagents and went about brewing her wondrous elixir. Sadly, not everything went according to plan. The moment Serris took a sip of her brew, a great flash of light seared across the chambers of her tower, setting it ablaze and destroying centuries’ worth of knowledge. Serris herself had been burned by witchflame, and though she remained unscathed in body, her skin had forever turned a greenish colour and her eyes blazed a bright yellow. Marked thus, she had no choice but to flee the capital, Adjudicators and even Templars of the Sacred Order hot on her heels.
And although her beauty had been forever preserved in this malefic way, Serris soon realized that it only went skin-deep. Her body would still wither and die if she did nothing about it. Thus Serris, having taken the title Madame, travels Teleria now, searching for a way to complete her scheme. Her mastery of magecraft is impressive, to say the least, and her lack of morals ensures that the witch is likely to ally with whomever she pleases. As long as it suits her own designs.