One can sense that something is amiss. The sensation of an intermitent, yet gentle, warmth caresses your body from a particular direction inviting you to look.

Your character would be a Disciple of...

One’s gaze meets a Hyur-sized woman wearing a morbol-green colored dress, traditional, in a subdued, folk style that could have come from the east. She was no stranger to finery, since the dress itself was more than simply cloth, and the heels that were visible beneath the hem added a few inches. She was not threatening at first glance, until looking at her eyes, which hide something yet unknown.

As a Disciple of War one might be able to conclude...

Wears a strange hardened hat, but wears little armor.Has no visible weapon.Avoids direct eye contact.

And at a glance one observes...