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Neomenia is called a spellbinder by some. she doesn't mind it much - she is known for her enchantments after all. Her hands are swift as she carves the sacred symbols into the cool metal, murmuring verses known only to the oldest of players. The beginners press lapis and gold into the carvings, to help the magic flow; Neomenia does not. The ancient powers that are conserved in the precious mineral are not akin to hers, and like two streams opposing each other they dilute the magic that ran in her runes. enchantments by her hand are unique - as she strokes her hand across it, feather falling purrs like the wind of the grassfields, sharpness feels like an icy cold blade barely veiled by the thinnest layer of cloth, and her bows carved with punch howls with the sheer tension of the moments before striking. They are tame however as she strokes the symbols carved, though on alert like a predator who's waiting for their prey.
Neomenia is hard to find, hiding herself in the shadows as dark as the moonless sky. They welcome her and accept her eagerly, melting into one at her request. Some suspect she has made a deal with them, taking note of her form that shifts and wobbles at the edges, and says that one day she would become one with the dark. Neomenia does not decline the claim nor proves it correct, only smiles when it is brought up. most know to stop pushing for the answer; the ones who do not find curses of vanishing on the piece of armor that they asked to be enchanted by her.
Neomenia is called a spellbinder by many. She smiles and responds, though her heart stings with buried thorns from a past few remembered.