Rhosbren is Miraluka, and her eyelessness is as striking as it is strange, the smooth skin where eyes would be seeming papery and bruised. A slender silk blindfold does little to conceal that she is profusely freckled, the expanse of them running from forehead to throat hollow and below. Long auburn hair is worn loose and flowing, save if under a cowl, where she keeps it pinned into a tight, severe bun at her nape. Red stains her lips, all too close to the color of blood. Already fair skin is made alabaster-pale by the touch of the Dark Side, delicate veins branching out in black, corrupted tributaries along the inside of slim arms. Grief mars her delicate face in etched lines and sharp angles, and this severity is all the harsher for the love-mellowed softness it is implied they replaced.
A prim posture and an imposing stature make her loom over most, and the slow grace she moves with lends itself to the deception of her being naught but a towering shadow. She glides when she walks, save when in haste, but so rarely does she move quickly or without purpose. Why should one rush when one knows the future? Her easy languor speaks of the confidence of someone who believes she knows all ends to all things. It also has made her soft, in most ways a woman can be. A heavy hourglass figure is often emphasized by a steel-boned corset, making broad hips wider and draws the gaze to a generous, freckled bosom. There is a certain vanity beneath her austere mien, a playfulness in how she uses her appearance against the sighted, but the clever see the shallow coquetterie for what it is.
Above all, Rhosbren is a vessel of fate—her body is but a dwelling for her power to exist within, her visions gifts from the Force, and her life a means to interpret, understand, and share those prophecies as she chooses. Often, it seems as if her heart is already spoken for; carrying through on her own secretive agenda takes priority over all else in her life, and she's thus prone to being alone, unwilling to share her motives or desires even with those who have close relationships with her.
Beyond superficial, sweet, or teasing pleasantries, Rhosbren is distant to most who do not catch her interest, and her attention is rarely held by the mortal and ordinary unless it must be. Whim and curiosity dictate her interactions with others. Is their fate interesting? Are they destined for greatness, but flinch from it? Often, the answer is to her disappointment, but such perceived weakness rarely surprises her. She frequently scorns the company of those who do not possess the conviction to follow their own path, seeing them as unable to reach their potential and thus not worthy of her regard. But, in spite of this tendency toward mistrust, preferring to be left to her own devices, it is the irony of her life to attract friends and admirers.
If captivated by something at last, Rhosbren possesses a frightening intensity that makes her unsettling to be near, and little gets in her way when she truly wants something. In all matters that she cares for, she pours all of her power and focus, disliking half-measures, excuses, the weak-willed, or feeble-minded. She is incisive and exacting beneath her pleasing facade, often of capricious moods, and remarkably observant for a woman with no eyes.
A Sith of modest accomplishments, Rhosbren is a Darth poorly masquerading as the Madame of a teahouse, her position as proprietor of the Coterie Company a mundane veneer upon a creature exultant of the greater mysteries of the Dark Side. The pouring of tea and the playing of cards fill her days, and the nights are taken up with frenetic research and information-hunting for the whereabouts of objects of true power. The lure of the unusual or exotic is strong for her, and thus travel and its broadening effect on her perspective always entices her. To be in touch with unseen realms, to find more relics of the past, to learn ever more of divination... all of these draw her to far corners of the galaxy, hunting where guided by visions.
Rhosbren was born on the planet Alpheridies to a well-to-do young couple, their first and only healthy child after several miscarriages and the death of a son in infancy. As an only child, she was spoiled and doted upon, even after her unusual proclivity in the Force was discovered. Her father, a museum curator only just Force-sensitive enough to see, left the nuances of Rhosbren's care and teaching to his wife. Her mother thus started her education in Force matters at a young age, though medical problems arose to hinder: epileptic seizures—or what seemed to be. The little girl complained of "seeing" things that had not come to pass, knew things she could not have possibly known. Her odd talent for such led to practice in learning more of Farseeing, a difficult skill cultivated by her people and usually only someone of profound talent and discipline could use with anything approaching ease.
Very little was found to be physically wrong with Rhosbren, and after years of medical testing, MRIs off-world by human doctors, and an unethical, highly experimental implantation procedure, her mother turned to spiritual means and attempts at Force-healing to bring her child relief. Sleeplessness and nightmares continued to hound the young girl, her 'fits' continuing through all of her childhood and worsening as a teen.
Her burgeoning powers brought her to the attention of her uncle, a Jedi Watchman appointed to the Farstey Sector, his jurisdiction primarily his own homeworld of Alpheridies. Though long-separated from his family, it took her uncle little effort to convince Rhosbren’s parents to release her to Jedi custody, citing it would be best for her health.
Their shuttle never made it to Tython.
While she aims for some privacy in her affairs and is wildly secretive about her true motives, Rhosbren's Imperial history is not entirely the mystery many Sith fight to convey of theirs. How she came to find her future master and became Sith, she is rather mum on the topic of, but those who ask are often answered with, "By a strange stroke of fate." Rumors have drifted about that her shift to the Empire mandated a legal name-change, and a more “Imperial” name replaced her “true” identity.
Whatever the truth of the matter, the girl named Rhosbren Eilun appeared in Imperial space around the age of sixteen, shunted into the Korriban Academy by her future master several months after her arrival to "acclimate" her to what she would endure as an alien Sith. Favoring stealth and techniques that would let her go unseen by most, the young acolyte stole through the tombs and wastes with utmost secrecy, using her unique gift of foresight coupled with covert tactics to kill her rivals in ways that wouldn't be linked back to her. A stone column falling here, a cave-in there, and the overseers and inquisitors were none the wiser. An entertaining following developed around her among acolytes she spared, and she manipulated their adoration of her to her advantage, beguiling the weak-willed into doing her bidding. At eighteen, educated and finished with her trials, the Sith who discovered her returned and took her on as his apprentice at last.
Much of her time since that point, until about the age of twenty-five, was dedicated to serving her new master, Lord Lucidus, an augur of the old blood within the Sphere of Mysteries. Though Lucidus had severed his family ties to devote himself wholly to his craft, he was still a Pureblooded Sith of the gentry, and imposed upon his strange, alien student the manners of higher society, reminding her constantly of her place in the Empire. Still, the young Miraluka bore what was foisted upon her, and she and her master worked in tandem, scrying for relics for the Lord's Sphere, hunting their locations with alarming accuracy between Lucidus' lessons to his clever student.
Not a Sith disposed to long military campaigns, Rhosbren instead primarily served with the Imperial Reclamation Service, having contributed to multiple, if small, discoveries of items and ruins of historical significance to the Empire. The Dread War, and the sacking of the Arcanum, saw her following her master from world to world, discretely obtaining, containing, and/or disposing of relics, artifacts, and other objects of power deemed too dangerous to fall into the hands of those in service to the Dread Masters. Indeed, her first notable military expedition was, by command of Darth Rictus, as a Dread Executioner, stationing her on Oricon proper. It was there that she assisted in shielding minds, breaking illusions, and aiding the mental recovery of veterans at the end of the Dread War. Even the revelation of the Revanites shortly after did not deter Rhosbren or Lucidus from their course, and until the commotion upon the planet Ziost, the master and apprentice pair were unmatched in their tenacious dedication to the recovery of pieces of the Empire’s history.
Tragically, Lord Lucidus met his end at Ziost, his essence and body consumed by the traitorous Sith Emperor, and Rhosbren was left to mourn. The powerbase of her master fell into the hands of another of his subordinates, pureblood Lord Akantha Hekas, an anthropologist and historian of the Sith. Not desiring an alien apprentice, the newly-burdened Lord sent Rhosbren away on a nebulous mission to “better herself,” and disappeared into the wastes of Korriban with a small Reclamation team, seeking codices and relics of the mythic Sith King Adas.
Aimless, no longer simply an apprentice, but without a title, Rhosbren wandered as she was bid, lurking in shadowed corners of the galaxy in the guise of a blind fortune teller in a dark cowl. Her free time, for the space of nearly two years, was taken up with entertaining and terrifying Sith and Imperials with her talent at foresight, using unusual black cards as a means to share her prophecies visually. The nature of her power kept it from ever being controlled entirely, but there was no denying her skill, nor the frightening accuracy of what she shared with her audiences. This drew the attention of a handful of powerful Lords, all desiring her insight, for she was never wrong, and for a time, she was considered for a position within the newly-reformed Sith Intelligence. This was, however, not to be.
At the rise of the Eternal Empire of Zakuul, and thus the sackings of Korriban and Tython, the erstwhile apprentice lost all contact with Lord Hekas, and the historian was presumed dead when the wreckage of Zakuul’s campaign cleared. Legal claim of Lord Lucidus’ powerbase came to Rhosbren, who had thrown herself into the service of an anti-Zakuulan, pro-Empire organization. Bloodied through trials, suffering in war and conflict, and forced to put her powers to impossible tests of fate, Rhosbren cycled through several more Sith Lords as teachers, masters. At last, one saw fit to raise her to Lordship at the age of twenty-seven, and shortly after offered the newly-risen Lord a seat upon the council within. Given the title of High Seer, and with it, granted the legal holdings of a Dark Lord of the Sith, she took the name Darth Manteia, and accepted this mantle with great poise.
But her comfort with her role was not to last. The fall of the organization was as swift as its rise, and Darth Manteia scrambled for footing, having lost countless allies and comrades when Zakuul levied an attack upon their stronghold. Retreating to her home upon Dromund Kaas, the Miraluka seer sent out a call across numerous channels, attempting to make contact with any whom she worked with that survived. Few had, and fewer still wished to ally with the newly-made Darth, but those who lingered became her trusted cadre of contacts and spies, feeding her information and offering her an edge over would-be foes. Across the span of four years, Manteia created and restructured a new life for herself as Madame of a teahouse, leader of an underworld information brokerage firm, Commander of an Imperial corvette and its crew, and a terrifying Dark Lord of the Sith in her own right. Above all other modest accolades and lesser titles, however, she is one of the most accomplished (and blisteringly accurate) Sith augurs of her generation, venerated and feared in equal measure.
To this end, she maintains herself within the existing Sith Empire as it approaches decline. As a keeper of old traditions and a hunter of powerful artifacts, it has ever been her task to contain and control what has been deemed too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands. By her own admission, her duty is to preserve old wisdom, laws, and techniques essential to the mastery of her craft, and to one day bequeath such to a worthy successor. This answer is dubious at best, but the Miraluka remains taciturn on the matter to most who ask. Beyond such, her powers of prophecy are vast and unusual, and she recognizes few equals, but remains hungry for any new information hitherto unknown to her, and she will spare no trouble or expense to acquire such knowledge, whether for her own benefit or for her allies.