About Lisabett Erikkson
AC 15 (+4 Armor, +1 Dex), touch 11, flatfoot 14
Str 12 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 15 Cha 15
Bloodline Arcana: Whenever you cast an evocation spell, targets that fail their saves are dazzled by tiny sparkling starlights for 1 round per level of the spell.
Weather Domain Powers
Storm Burst (Sp): As a standard action, you can create a storm burst targeting any foe within 30 feet as a ranged touch attack. The storm burst deals 1d6 points of nonlethal damage + 1 point for every two cleric levels you possess. In addition, the target is buffeted by winds and rain, causing it to take a –2 penalty on attack rolls for 1 round. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
(CL 3nd, concentration (arcane)+4, (divine)+4; melee touch +2, ranged touch +2)
Age: 16, Height 5'11", Weight: 180 lbs Hair: Blond Eyes: Blue
At five foot eleven, Lisabett is buxom and well proportioned, vestiges of her early life traveling among the wilds. There are a number of scars apparent on her hands and arms, which are also tattooed in elaborate Ulfen knotwork animals and runes, and some across her high, flat cheekbones and bisecting her left eyebrow as well. She gives every appearance of having lived a harsh life, but her rare smile is extremely gentle, as is her manner. She carries herself with a noticeable amount of grace, and she is quite confident, if a bit… odd. She is an active participant in conversation if invited, and expresses her opinions well, but in the evenings is more likely to be found without staring up at the stars.
Lisabett is the happy product of a most unusual union between a sky maiden and a jarl, her father Maens. When next the pair met, the priestess descended from her hippogriff to present Maens with his child, the infant Lisabett, and remained only for a few hours of introduction before resuming her duties. On several occasions during their wanderings in her early life Maens related the queer prophecy her mother had foretold before she left them both, the symbols and images unclear, but revolving as the spheres of the heavens.
For the first years of her life, Lisabett marched with her father and his host of loyal thanes across the Land of the Linnorm in search of plunder, and the money, power and security such looting provided in the harsh climate. She was instructed by his thanes in the arts of war, and to earn her keep, such was their way. When she demonstrated no real ability for close fighting, she was handed a spear and instructed to remain as far from the enemy as possible, for her own sake. Even still, she had her brushes with injury, which have left their marks upon her body. In the evenings, while she recovered from her wounds, Lisabett would stare up at the night sky and contemplate the dreams she believed Desna had lent her, of the spheres, of ice, and the borealis such as she had never seen it. She reached her injured hand to the heavens, and felt as though they were within her grasp.
In adolescence, Lisabett’s powers manifested in strange ways. Like her uncles, the thanes, in periods of intense stress a bolt of frost would emerge while she missed, sometimes accompanied by a display that dazzled like the stars above. Maens thanes cursed and withdrew from her, not understanding the nature of her magics. Maens recognized her talents, as he had in Lisabett’s mother, but understood that the time Lisabett’s mother had prophecized before she left had come, and that Lisabett would no longer be welcome in her own lands. It was with a heavy heart that Maens, a dutiful and loving father, dispatched his very own daughter to the south, with a cache of treasure and food meant to ease her journey.
Lisabett's mastery of her magics came not through study, as wizards might, but through repeated trial and error. Recognizing the need to travel among companions, especially in her harsh lands, she forfeited the bulk of the treasures Maens had gifted her with to buy passage with a mercenary company marching south to Varisia. Initially mocked for her lack of strength, it was assumed by the company that she would be a liability, but when hit landed in melee sparing effectively drained the will to fight from her opponent, the captain, a scoundrel formerly of Irrisen saw the opportunity for profit. After all, subdued warriors were far easier to enslave than raging ones, and worth quite a bit more in ransom if they were of any note.
This period of her life is not one Lisabett is willing to share easily. For the most, she is ashamed of her actions then, being a party to slavery. She was not allowed to distinguish herself from the group, however, as it would negatively affect morale. She had several acquaintances among them, burly men like her uncles of varying degrees of honor and belief in their cause who encouraged her continued interest in arms, sparred with her and even put ink to skin beside her. Her dreams during this period were of death, and she had an increasing sense that though she oft stared up at the night sky and conversed with Desna, that the goddess could no longer hear her words, or simply stopped listening.
Unawares of their location, Lisabett first became aware that they had reached Varisia when the party scouts reported sighting a brightly colored caravan loosely guarded, trailed by farm animals and dogs. Lisabett listened with growing displeasure as the captain outlined a plan to raid the group. Having attained some support in her own right among the company, Lisabett shored up her courage and spoke out against the plan. Sheep and goats may feed their bellies for a week, but women and children were not warriors, and to take them as slaves would hamper their progress, she reasoned. The captain took offense at the mutiny, and suggested that his lieutenants seize and pacify her, but there were more men in the company who feared her magics than were willing to obey. When Lisabett quit the company, several of the raiders followed. Knowing no other alternative, they set forth to join the caravan and offer their assistance to defend it should the captain persist in his attack.
When Lisabett identified herself to the riders dispatched to meet them in the field, she asked her men to surrender their arms as a show of faith, so that they might in peace receive an audience with their captain. Bound and dejected, with no company for conversation other than her companions, Lisabett waited as calmly as a prisoner might for her audience while the young of the caravan peered at the intricate tattoos and even boldly tugged at the braids in her scout's red beard. They were scolded and shooed by an elderly matron in brightly colored skirts, who looked upon the company and frowned. The woman asked Lisabett a number of questions about her intent, which Lisabett answered honestly, highlighting her desire to protect the young from her former troupe, and she nodded and exited, returning with a handsome man shortly.
It was clear that Sandru, as he identified himself, did not quite believe Lisabett's tale, but his mother, who remained beside him for the duration, seemed to empathize. A leader of men, he announced that Lisabett and her misfit band should travel among them, but as his prisoners. He insisted that their troop, and his guard had no time to trouble with Sczarni and tethered them to a wagon. Miserable and humiliated, Lisabett had no choice but to agree to his terms, she could only hope that her fears did not come to pass.
Their journey was slow, and arduous, but the mother Koya infrequently arrived to check the condition of their wrists in the bonds. Lisabett recognized the symbol of Desna and attempted to engage the woman in conversation, with little effect. Her dreams continued to be of blood, and bound, she could not even reach out for the stars that they slept beneath. The spheres seemed all but lost to her now. She busied her mind recalling passages of conversation between the various children that congregated around her troop, attempting to divine their method of speech from mime alone.
One evening, as though ordained by chance the leader Sandru happened upon Lisabett in her practice, and laughed at her crude attempt. They sat together in the cool of the evening and he taught her the correct pronunciation and association. He became very quiet for a time, and they both looked to the stars, sharing the silence of them, Lisabett supposed, and then he asked her what had made her stand up to her captain then, and not dozens of slaves before. Lisabett explained the practice of thralldom, whereby one who had not died in battle would be provided for for a term of service which he might earn enough to purchase his freedom, and it being preferable to death in the cold while raiding for coin one could not eat. He nodded and left, rejoining the ranks of his own company.
The attack upon the caravan did not occur at the hands of Lisabett's former company, but by goblin raiders. Lisabett cursed and strained at her bonds as chaos erupted around them, frightening the children. She begged to be released so that she might assist, and Sandru, after a hard glance, struck her free. Summoning her magics, Lisabett rained the fires of the heavens upon the raiders, and inspired many to flee. Having proved herself able, Lisabett negotiated with Sandru to free the men who had followed her, to support his own strength, and was heard.
Lisabett's attraction to Sandru was slow to rise. Following her defense of the caravan, Koya spared more time for her, and even on occasion heard her dreams. The clan's children assisted her with her Varisian, and the guard with whom her men found greatest ease in conversing smatterings of Shoanti. Lisabett, slowly coming into her self volunteered to join ranging parties to look for goblin sign, or that of large predators before they camped, demonstrating her abilities in that regard. In the evenings, at the changing of the shift, Sandru might sit beside her while she observed the stars. They rarely spoke, and only in her extremely coarse Varisian, and he playfully mocked her and encouraged her improvement.
Lisabett did not recognize that she had formed any manner of romantic attachment to Sandru until she found herself disappointed that he did not join her daily observation on what was known to be the last night of their journey. Her heart heavy with a curious sense of loss, sleep eluded Lisabett for a time, but when she at last embraced it, Desna sent her a dream of ice, her spheres, and the borealis. Delighted to have her goddess's favor again, Lisabett begged Koya to give her the location of the nearest temple so that she may pay appropriate tithe and give her devotion upon hallowed ground, and was directed to the cathedral at Sandpoint.
Lisabett's History with the Mercenaries:
Took the opportunity to sort of flesh out the merc captain (who still has yet to have a name, although if you thought that was important, I suppose that you'd have asked for one by now) and Lisabett's relationship to him. It was not as though she was not bothered by the captain's heinous acts, she simply did not believe, and he proved this to her on several occasions, that she had the prerequisite strength to hold the company together in his absence.
Lisabett was essentially traveling with monsters in human skins; barbarians, raiders, probable murderers and men who indulged in the four letter word that starts with "R" and means assault. The way we (me and husband) look at it, the Land of the Linnorm Kings is one of the harshest places in all Golarian. The natives regularly contend with Linnorms, and frost giants and all manner of really hard hitting things. It's hard for us to imagine that anything successful out there is anything less than a level 5, warrior, expert, what have you. To be a warlord or a king, you'd probably have had to at least face a linnorm once, which probably puts you in the 10-14th level range. High powered dudes.
Now I don't necessarily see that Lisabett's former captain is that high up on the food chain. Certainly at least level 7 to be able to prove that he's a leader. What he wanted with a level 1 sorc was someone he could try to and successfully manipulated for the greatest possible return on his investment. Send Lisabett in, neutralize the greatest threat with magic, slaughter those who resist. In return, she was afforded his "protection" until she started demonstrating her natural ability to bring men over to her side.
This is when the tragic wintering stuff occurred. It was no real fault of her own, the captain simply figured that since his authority was being undermined, he'd do a CE thing and destroy a bunch of peasants and blame it on her lack of judgment to show her and the community that she was not strong enough to protect them from him. His offer to take her was of course a ruse, and he recognized that when "romance" failed (and likely was doomed from the start), shame would be far more effective. And he was right. Nothing demoralizes like stripping the last vestiges of honor and pride from a lost woman.
I am assuming that this will all come out in play eventually, with someone. Haven't decided who just yet. Sorin's the most likely candidate at the moment as she's terrified of losing Sandru's good opinion. Losing that means going back to the monsters because she has nothing else.