About AnthuriaRoses? I'll tell you all about them. Let's start with the thorns. Sorcerer 7 (Verdant)
DEFENSE
OFFENSE
STATISTICS
Skills
Background Skills
Racial Modifiers +2 Perception
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Bloodline Arcana: Whenever you cast a spell with a range of personal, your skin toughens, granting you a natural armor bonus equal to the spell’s level for 1d4 rounds. This bonus does not stack with any other natural armor bonuses you might have. Elf Blood: Count as both elf and human Elven Immunities: Half-elves are immune to magic sleep effects and gain a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells and effects. Nimble Moves: Whenever you move, you may move through 5 feet of difficult terrain each round as if it were normal terrain. This fat allows you to take a 5-foot step into difficult terrain. Photosynthesis (Ex): At 3rd level, you feed upon nature’s raw essence. Your need to eat and sleep is reduced as if wearing a ring of sustenance, and you gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws made against poison and sleep effects. At 9th level, these bonuses increase to +4. Tanglevine (CMB+12, 8/day) (Sp): At 1st level, as a standard action, you can create a 15-foot-long, animated vine that springs from your hand. This vine lasts for 1 round and can be used to make a single disarm, steal, or trip combat maneuver, using your sorcerer level plus your Charisma modifier in place of your normal CMB. You can use this power a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Charisma modifier. POSSESSIONS:
Gold: 552 gp Magic Items
Explorer's Outfit
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Vivid green eyes flash against milk chocolate skin, an unusual complexion to be found upon the grounds of a prestigious school of wizardry in a city-nation oathbound to Chelaxian tradition. Still, this handsome young woman has done well for herself, dressed in the starched acaedemic garb of Theumanexus. Her stiff collar rises high below her short-cropped hair, giving her a no-nonsense air typical of such eruditic types. She wears a single, soft white rosebud behind her ear, her sole ornamentation. Yet beneath this polished veneer there are suggestions of more humble beginnings. There is dirt under her nails and even in her hair. Her hands are coarse and callused, indicating a life of manual work. She is clearly at unease among the hustle and bustle here on Citadel Crest, her eyes drawn ever down toward the earth. But there is the spark of wit about her, too. She seems to study everyone and everything, as if making a mental catalog of experience for later reference. Her posture is strong and elegant, befitting an upbringing among nobility. As you approach you catch her eye, and her face breaks into a warm smile.
BACKGROUND:
Background Summary Disregarded by the wizard academies as a two-bit magician, Anthuria has found gainful employment as the groundskeeper of Theumanexus College. Indeed, she has blossomed. And while many of the faculty speculate as to her secret, none can deny her abilities. The gardens have never looked better. When approached by the Crown for this Vale nonsense, the wizards balked. The Vale is a known hazard, corrupted by its haunted past. But, who more expendable than a mere gardener? With a passable knowledge of arcana, Anthuria made a perfect (and replaceable) candidate. Not that she suspects such machinations. Anthuria has depended on the College her whole life. For her, this is the opportunity of a lifetime--the chance to show everyone at the College that she has what it takes to become a serious student of the arcane. Background Detail
Despite their age, they raised her as a daughter, there in their cottage on the college grounds. She grew up surrounded by professors of the arcane, guest lecturers on demonology, and students of wizardry. She wished dearly to be among their number rather than a simple janitor's daughter. But fate handed her a different hand. Rather than spellbooks and scrolls, she wielded trowels and spades. Working in the garden came naturally to her, soothed her, and her absences at the dinner table became common-place as she lost herself for hours on end among the holly and the ivy. Despite a sheltered upbringing, Anthuria learned many hard truths about Korvosa. It's a city steeped in tradition and social stratification. Its stifling political climate is rivaled only by the corruption of its underbelly. Life was especially difficult for a half-human orphan being raised by a groundskeep. These harsh realities clashed with her bohemian sensibilities and degraded her nerves. She found solace in the arts. With access to the college library, she read ravenously--books on astronomy, arcana, and botany (of course). But she didn't limit herself to the hard sciences. She grew to love poetry, reciting with relish the love ballads of Lermeau and the opulent, ostentatious love tragedies of Trypormanexus. The heroine Octavania she loved best, for her rags-to-riches story incited Anthuria's imagination in amazing ways. And the theatre; oh, the theatre! She loved nothing more than escaping the confined quarters of the cottage, purchasing a back row seat, and taking in a performance at The Player's Parlor. Her favorites were Three Times a Wife and The Goatherder's Daughter, one of which usually repeated every season. This was how she came to know Serba, the handsome Varisian boy who manned the ticket booth for the theatre. Their courtship was slow and subtle. He would give her an extra copper (and a sly wink) when she purchased a ticket. Eventually he would pass her sweets. She in turn began to bring him a flower (always white, as she doubted a boy would be interested in colorful blooms). And always their hands would touch, their fingers lingering just a moment longer than needed. Anthuria was quite smitten. But then the fever came. A sickness began to spread throughout the city, and many died. The poorest of the city, especially the Shingles dwellers, began to protest, asserting that necessary medicines were being reserved for the wealthy. Protests had turned to riots, and so the Hellknights patrolled the streets, ensuring that only those with official business were out after dark. One day Anthuria, white rose in hand, approached the theatre to find its doors nailed shut, the ticket window completely dark. She fretted over Serba but she could not linger, as a curphew had been instituted. Life had become very tense for Anthuria and her family, especially when her father fell ill. Within days a violent cough had siezed him, his fever soared, and his body began to fail. The day he died the roses were in full bloom. Anthuria and her mother took great care to wreath his body in the flowers. Then, knowing he could not remain, alerted the cartmen. They arrived at dusk, with a cart half full of other victims. Anthuria watched in horror as they unceremoniously dropped her father into the cart, the roses falling to the wayside. She screamed and ran, trying to collect the flowers. The man merely laughed and pushed her to the ground. "Li'l Miss's drop'd 'er fla'ers, did she?" asked one, and the other began to snicker. Anthuria's mother screamed, and this drew the attention of a nearby Hellknight patrolling the grounds. Jetta Stahle, then unknown to Anthuria, approached with a singular resolve. Her halberd cut the wind as she lashed out, knocking the feet out from under both men. "Get back to work, and leave these people be," she growled. Then she lifted her visor and extended an armored hand out to the girl. Anthuria had always been terrified of the Hellknights, but she could swear she saw a look of tenderness pass over the woman's face. Disoriented by the ordeal and her grief, she simply stared. As the workers scrambled to their feet and bore Anthuria's father away, Jetta sighed and reached down, picked Anthuria up, and carried her to her mother. Anthuria did not think she would ever forget such a visible display of compassion from a hellknight. Following this ordeal Anthuria herself developed a fever. She became so sick she lapsed into unconciousness. For days her mother wept and fretted, certain that her daughter was doomed to die as well. But she did not. Miraculously, Anthuria awoke three days later. Her mother was so relieved she barely noticed that her daughter's dark eyes were now a bright shade of green. And this wasn't the only change. Anthuria began to develop strange abilities. In the garden she would hear indiscernible whispering, and more than once she swore the honeyblossom vines were crawling. The frequency and intensity of these events has only increased in recent months, and Anthuria's abilities continue to grow. As always, there burns a desire for something more. If there's one word that describes Anthuria it's ambitious. Yet the death of her father and the subsequent decline in her mother's mental health have kept her tied to the college. She has been granted the title of Mistress of the Grounds--perhaps only a token of sympathy from the College following the death of their janitor, but it carries an income needed to support herself and her mother. As depression began to set in, she received wonderful news. The Crown was sponsoring an expedition into the Bloodsworn Vale, and "ambassadors" were needed from the major schools. The tenured faculty were simply unable to tear themselves away from their research, and so they had nominated her, Anthuria, to represent the college on this trip! Ecstatic, she gushed to her mother, who merely smiled and congratulated her daughter. Anthuria did not notice the fleeting shadow of sorrow that passed over the old woman's face. |
