Standing in a non-imposing height of 5'9 with a not-so-toned body, clearly she wasn't the fighting Imperial though with basic Legionnaire training under her belt. Long, sin black hair covers her head with light porcelain skin with few scars dotted around her hands from pesky knives and needles. Her bust and end was, for an Imperial, decent enough to not make any man wanting but she cared little for those aspects of her body and took no true pride to flaunt it or speak about it.. Let alone draw attention to it, feeling herself in an awkward place to speak of such.
None to speak about besides the Divines
Though she seems to be well put together, she comes off rather shy and when spoken with in private. Her mental fortitude is iron-clad, believing her people's struggle and survival is the number one mission on all of Nirn. Due to her 'mission', she is easily one of the more 'Nationalistic' Imperials however she never truly has a mean word for other races, man, mer or beast. She's rather passive in fights, preferring just to roll her eyes or chuckle at one's aggression and waving it off, choosing to fight winning battles when they count and not in a parlay of words over a sweetroll. A slight attitude when it comes to those speaking bad about the Imperials or the Divines, but by all means, she joins in for the current hate of the Imperial Regent 'Warlords' as she calls them, seeing the Empire now as fallen and waiting for Akatosh to save the Divine's chosen people. She's not one to take free hand outs and believes to work for everything given to her, never one to enjoy owing a debt either.
When wearing her more formal and public attire, she has a single gladius at her side in a sheath upon her hip. A large satchel slung across of her with bandages, gauze and other salves for basic first aid, the Amulet of Kings insignia stamped upon the leathers of the first aid bag. When in her bartender attire, she just seems to wear whatever is comfortable and easy to keep up with orders, be it shirts or dresses. A butcher's knife at her side when in her bartender attire for cooking purposes.
Alyssa the Legionary Medic was a normal time for her. A low ranking conscripted recruit of the Legions during the war, she received quick and very basic training to fight in the Legions but it was clear fighting was not her strong suit, rather to pick up the aid bag and litter to help the wounded, sick and dying. Born in Cheydinhal, she had an extreme love for Arkay and thus when dying soldiers were drawing their last breaths, she would administer funeral rights to them, not being a priest in a long run but... Do dying soldiers truly care if you're a priest or not? Taking her 'Chaplain' and Medic job seriously, viewing it as an honor to hear the last words of men and women who served the Empire and giving their last draw of breath in praise to the Divines or loved ones. She holds her memories, albeit short time in the Legions in high regard. Sometimes doing sentry duty atop of outposts and learning how to work the artillery emplacements, thus she can load a ballista... if that means anything.
When Cyrodiil fell, so did her unit. Fleeing to the far reaches and finally to the Gold Coast where as a refugee, she had little. Many refugees resorting to prostitution in Anvil but she had a bit more pride than that to lay with Mer and the ilk. Instead she choose to work what she could, harvesting grain, clearing trash from houses and streets, over the next few years, finally earning enough to buy a small house.. Well, shoddy house.. But enough to get a tavern up and running with a few debts and longer working hours. Now the proud owner of the Weeping Willow Inn, she stands as a staunch and stalwart defender of the TRUE Empire and a beacon for refugees.
The Weeping Willow Inn is a front for Imperial Refugees to find a safe place. Rest their feet, wash their wounds, get medical attention all the while contracted with a member of the Thieves Guild to provide false paperwork that they can pass as 'Nords' or 'Bretons' to find a new homeland until the war is over. The papers giving the refugee a few writs of citizenship and past work experience to make it easier to meld into their chosen society. The inn itself is a very homely, very cozy place to relax for all races, providing fresh baked breads, sugar breads, home-made brews and wines along with fresh sea-food and game meat. Patron first, quality never in question, the Weeping Willow has fine boarding commendations for all walks of life. With medicine for wounds and other nasty injuries on hand to fix up the passerby, the Inn welcomes the homeless for a free meal or the noble knight for some backwoods hospitality.
Always happy to see more Cyrods thinking about the plights of their fellow man and woman If you're interested in doing more to aid the displaced, or in interacting with others who are involved with such work. Look us up, we're Alessia's Vigil. ^_^