It is rumored a pack of orcs burnt down her small village in Cardolan as a child, and she’s been wandering without a home ever since. That said, few have dared to tread close enough to the wild woman to learn of her history, for she is as unpredictable as the wind itself. 

Lunalei can be found playing her lute and singing in taverns across the lands, from Bree town to the edges of Swanfleet, and anywhere else her wandering feet may take her. She plays in exchange for a bit of coin, a meal, or a warm bed — though just as often, she finds solitary solace under the canopy of stars, spending her days hunting and gathering in the untamed wilds, where she feels most at home. Sometimes this is of her own choice… and other times she finds herself booted out of taverns, inns, and villages due to her reckless and unusual behavior. 

Her spirit, as untamed as the wilds she roams, often clashes with the order of civil society. Raised by herself in the wilds, Lunalei knows not the rigid customs of society. She moves through the world with a feral grace, taking what she desires with the same ease as picking a wildflower. Ownership is a foreign concept to her; what she sees, she claims, much to the chagrin of those who believe in the sanctity of possession.

To her, the rules and customs of civilization are but chains to be broken, absurdities to be mocked and disregarded with glee. A trickster at heart, Lunalei revels in the chaos she conjures, finding delight in the havoc she sows. She will do anything in her power to challenge the mundane, for life is much too short and precious to be boring.