Anca Covanu's page

Entry 1

They were World Walkers, mom and dad. Wandering druidic followers of Desna. From what I remember of their stories, they made a pilgrimage to the Wreath of Stars to witness a lunar eclipse after hearing rumors that it was an ancient shrine to Mother Moon. What they found was a ramshackle settlement swarming with mad cultists and evil fey. They barely escaped with their lives... Following that they spent the next few years travelling the inner sea helping people and spreading the word of Desna. They made their way north and west to finally settle in a small village deep within the Sanos Forest where I was born. We were quite happy there, but they always complained about horrible nightmares of a winged creature of pure darkness with a heart of living flame. Over the years they became more and more paranoid, until one day that paranoia manifested itself in the most horrific way: The Darkblight.

It overtook our small village and corrupted fey ravaged our camp. I blindly fled south and shortly thereafter darkness took me… I woke in a thatched roof hut and I could only see out of one eye. My hands immediately went to my face and the sudden movement sent my head spinning. I felt the rough bandages wrapped around my head. An unfamiliar woman told me that I had contracted some sort of fungal disease, and that through sheer luck she was able to save me. I would make a full recovery, but the wound leave a scar, and it did. Sometimes it burns and I know that someplace, the Blight has consumed more of the Sanos. It terrifies me. Sometimes it feels like they’re right around the corner, closing in. Like they’ve been searching for me - to finish the task it started long ago.

The woman was Androsa. She had been on an expedition researching the blight and by the grace of Lady Luck she stumbled across my body. She brought me to her home, Nybor, a racially diverse settlement on the southern shore of Ember Lake. Androsa is a great woman - her passion for her cause is infectious - and so it was that I decided to stay in Nybor and build a life here. I remain close friends with Andy (she’d kill me if she knew I was using that name) to this day.

But that’s enough reminiscing. For now I’ve got to escort a caravan of goods (mostly feathers, thread, hides and the like) west to Sandpoint for the Swallowtail Festival. I’m very much looking forward to witnessing the consecration of the Sandpoint Cathedral. I’ve been to the festival a handful of times and always enjoy the company of the simple folk there. I’ve been working hard here and could use the break. The caravan leaves in the morning, so I should get some sleep. If I find the time, I will write again once I reach Sandpoint. Until then.

Anca has coarse dark hair and steel blue eyes. She has a scar running across her forehead and down her right cheek which is partially covered by the blue bandana she wears to keep her hair out of her eyes. She is perpetually dusty, her breastplate showing signs of wear and grit from the road. The only item on her person that seems to be immune from this effect is the silver butterfly which hangs from a fine chain displayed proudly upon her chest. The symbol of Desna gleams as it catches the rays of the sun. Otherwise, three razor sharp starknives hang from leather thongs at her side and she has a sturdy wooden buckler strapped to her left gauntlet. Her backpack bulges from all the necessary gear required for a life on the road.

Anca is hard-working, dedicated, loyal, passionate, and carefree. She loves to laugh and play pranks on the road, but she also knows how to be serious when there is work to be done. She rarely acts on a whim - which sometimes earns her disfavor with her goddess - and she won’t hesitate to step up and take the reigns when there is a tough decision to be made. She will defend her friends and family with her life and doesn’t have much use for an excessive amount of material wealth as she feels it would just tie her down.