Clasm

Background
Jordan had been an intern at a major news studio, one of the ones that had guests show up in person as often as over a camera feed. Not that she ever got to meet any of these prominent figures, despite it being part of her job to accommodate the guests, but they had staffers who'd occasionally have some inane demand of her. She was diligent in pursuing her assigned tasks, but they still wore at her. Miss Michaels, wanted his Coke chilled, not frosty. Miss Michaels, my employer wishes to know, in detail, how to get from the room she was provided to the studio without getting so much as indirect exposure to sunlight. Miss Michaels, the representative was curious if you were at all related to the basketball player. Eventually, Jordan couldn't take it any more. The tipping point was some secretary of the governor deciding that meeting the studio's dress code meant that she was dressed like a whore. When she was sent back to her apartment in order to change into something more conservative, she decided to wash off her makeup, switch to street casual, and not bother going back to a job that paid her in "beneficial experience." When she hit the streets, she wound up on a market full of unfamiliar sorts of people and goods.

Description
Clasm looks the part of a tourist, wearing clothes suitable for travel and an overstuffed backpack on her back. Aside from a silver ring on her left hand etched with Atlantian runes, there's not much remarkable about her in appearance. In terms of personality... she's not the sort to abstain from being involved. Hiding and running from the Seers has been odious to her, and she'd love nothing more than to do something with magic that didn't involve covering her ass.

NPCs

 * Lethe (SotT)
 * Axiom (SotT)
 * Mulligan (SotT)
 * Maelstrom (SotT)

Equipment
Silver ring with Atlantean Runes, worn on the left hand.

Philosophy
"XXXXX."  - XYZ