When Tanis was a child and still went by her birth name, she was bitten by a venomous viper. The bite almost killed her, but Tanis begged for the snake to be released unharmed. From that day on, she was smitten.
That, at least, is her story; the only story she tells of the life she led before this one: a life in shadows and secrecy, in service of a society with a time-honoured seat on the Council. She has served in Venice, an envoy’s hand; her fingers have played across the dark wood of the Council’s table, touched the sigil on the Chair. She has conspired with new enemies in the darkest corners of those cold halls, a serpent in Eden. She has earned her name and she has earned her title.
Like many agents born in the shadow of the big three, she holds no love for those who would rule the secret world, and even now she plays the part of a pawn to threaten kings and queens with one decisive and deceptive move.
Whatever her connection with snakes, invented or otherwise, in many ways Tanis is like the viper she claims made her: venomous, unpredictable, slippery; able to steal through cracks unseen and unnoticed, leaving only the faintest trail behind in the warm sand.