A reclusive spiritualist lingers in her yurt in the woods. The gossip about town is that she can be convinced to trade her services, but has always been evasive about where she came from and why she stays. Darker rumors concern her age, and some of the oldest townsfolk claim to remember her looking much the same when they were children. Regardless, Kai-Ying is known for her skill with the Craft, knowledge of herbs, and the long pipe that she is never seen not smoking.
Dour and blunt, Kai-Ying has proven to be a woman aware of her relative capabilities and the station in life her Craft affords her. Brutally pragmatic, if she is cruel it has so far seemed to always be for a reason, though the moral quality of that purpose remains dubious at best. Perhaps the hallmark of the powerful is their reluctance to make vulgar displays of it — after all, why do for one’s self what one might employ others to do as well?