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Seraphina Bloodflame is an Agathion-Blooded aasimar woman in her middle twenties. She is a hair taller than most aasimar or human women with a lean, athletic build. Her fiery red-gold hair hangs to just above her shoulder blades, pulled back from a face etched with focus and maturity despite her relative youth. In her gauntleted right hand she holds her helmet, revealing a determined gaze, her right eye amber and the entirety of her left eye blood red. Looking only at her face, evidence of her divine heritage is largely missing and she appears Taldan. Her celestial blood is, however, impossible to miss.

A round halo of solid, almost tangible pure white light hangs perpetually over her head, casting a clean glow around her wherever she goes, but her most spectacular feature is the enormous pair of white wings that sprout from her upper back, made of large, soft, pure white feathers. When folded, the 'wrists' of the wing stand well above her head and the primary feathers just brush the ground, giving her the illusion of imposing height, and they are more than large enough to fully engulf her body should she choose to use them for such a purpose.

Her armor is made of interlocking plates of blackened steel. The plates of armor are cut to points in many places, and she wears a blood or wine red gambeson beneath them, a similar colored drape hangs from the faulds. The colors and shape of the armor and gambeson draw the eye and appear as if intentionally crafted for intimidation, in contrast to Seraphina's blatant holy heritage, but the choice of colors is made apparent in battle. When her bloodrage takes hold, the pristine white wings erupt into billowing blood-red plumes, her white halo exploding into a jagged crown of flame dripping boiling blood, and any weapon she wields bursts into flame that cuts through the armor of evil and severs outsiders connection to the material plane.

In spite of the trauma faced in her youth, Seraphina is an upbeat and charming roguish swashbuckler, the kind who leads from the front. She is assured and confident in her calling by Pharasma, and has an annoying tendency of implying anything she's doing that might annoy someone is only Pharasma's will. While oft appearing aloof, she does respect her calling. She does not hate nor fear undead, only wishing to put their souls to rest and make the world a little bit safer. In combat she is bold and decisive, never letting planning trip her up.

===History===

Sarah Rowan Swift was born to human parents, Elias, a carpenter and Lena, a herbalist, in the Taldan village of Oakhaven nestled at the base of the foothills where the green plains meet the World's End Mountains. Aside from her amber eyes, there was nothing indicating the girl was anything but normal. Her early life was unremarkable, normal, boring. School, helping her parents, helping around the village. She was brave and inquisitive, and there was plenty to explore is relative safety nearby. She was enamored with her sister, Calla, when she was born. Calla was patently aasimar despite her human heritage, with large feathered white wings and unusually smooth, featureless skin, and she doted over her sibling.

When Sarah was twelve and Calla eight, the pair wandered far too far into the foothills of the mountains looking for delicious berries. They were attacked by a group of Festrog, blood-drinking, plague-bearing undead shaped as if to mock humanity. Sara urged Calla to run while she ran in the opposite direction, hoping to distract the ghouls from chasing her sister. It worked, but being a child, Calla did not make it far.

She woke on the banks of the River of Souls. After some wandering, she was approached by a psychopomp of Pharasma that called itself 'Curio'. The bird was meant to guide her to the River lest she go astray, but, as these things tend to do, he found Sarah's body was not quite dead yet, and so she could not enter the river. They would have to wait a spell. Sarah's mind and body were both hazy, and while she knew there was something important she was forgetting, it wasn't until Curio told her it would let her wait for her sister before entering the water did she remember her sister, lost and alone in the mountains, chased by ghouls.

Sarah collapsed at Curio's feet, begging and pleading him to send her back so she could save Calla, swearing that she would return to the River once Calla was saved. Moved by her show of loyalty and love, and bird posited that, since her body was not actually dead yet, it could send her back to the mortal plane, but it demanded something in exchange: Sarah's shadow. Sarah gave her shadow gladly and it attached itself to the bird, though remained the shadow of a girl. Curio announced his satisfaction with the trade and flew away, returning with a gem of angelic blood from one of Seraphina's ancestors to replace the blood the Festrog's had taken from her, handing the gem over (well, jamming it into her left eye socket) once she agreed to answer when Pharasma called her.

Seraphina Bloodflame was born in blood and ash. The explosion incinerated the undead feasting on her life force and changed her physically. A permanent halo adorned her head, enormous feathered wings sprouting from her back. Her left eye was forever more blood red. Calla was terrified but unharmed and the pair were reunited with their village, the whole of which came into the mountains to investigate the bloody explosion seen from miles around.

Curio's gift had the effect of enhancing Seraphina's connection to her divine heritage. Beyond the halo and wings, she was gifted with magic and (some say) cursed with a burning rage to eliminate enemies of the natural cycle of life and death. When so enraged, her wings, halo, and even her sword and engulfed and replaced by bloody flames that drip boiling blood and burn away undead.

Life in Oakhaven was not the same after. Many developed a weariness of the girl and her newfound celestial blood. Some saw her as blessed, others as cursed or dangerous. Her parents tried their best, but she was hardly controllable before Pharasma gave her undead-slaying powers. She struggles to control her bloodrage, which flares up when she is scared, angry, or if Calla is in danger. Elder Maeve tried to guide her to control the magic spark within her, and the old sellsword Broin gave her a few lessons on the sword.

Her power came from her blood and her learning to control it was instinctual. Feeling adrift, she wanders away from Oakhaven as she grows older, eventually meeting Sister Elara, a young, charismatic, devout and cute priestess of Pharasma. Elara encourages Seraphina to join the temple and tells her that they will help her control and direct her rage. Seraphina tries, mostly out of a desire to stay with Elara. She learns basic rites, more about psychopomps, and gains rudimentary knowledge of undead identification, but she chafes under the structure of discipline and study, her instinctual use of her genetic powers clashing with structured clerical learning. Her romance with Elara complicates things and is intense but unsustainable. Eventually Seraphina leaves, amicably but with some sadness, valuing her connection with Elare but needing her freedom. knowing her role in Pharasma's plans is an active one.

She wanders about for years, listless, doing a little mercenary work dealing with low level undead threats around the inner sea region until Curio visits her in a dream. The nosoi is perched atop a spectral sarcophagus in a sea of sarcophagi, stretching as far and deep and high as the eye can see.

"Pharasma calls in her due, Seraphina Bloodflame. The tombs of Wati are opened. The cycle is disturbed. Go. Be Her sword against the tide of undeath. Keep the balance."

Sarah Rowan Swift was playing in the foothills above the village with her little sister, Calla. Children were always warned away from the World's Edge Mountains, but the rolling green hills dotted with moss covered boulders always called to the curious and adventurous. Parents tried to scare children by telling tales of strange animals seen roaming in the moonlight, but Calla had huge white wings which, while largely nonfunctional, would scare away any animal if suddenly opened. The pair were inseparable even though Sasha was four years Sarah's junior. Energetic, quick, perhaps a little reckless, both girls lived up to the name of "Swift", and Sarah was aggressively protective of her little sister.

They had spent countless hours wandering the foothills, always going just a little further from home than before in search of adventure and delicious berries. The Huckleberry bushes further up in the foothills always had the sweetest, juiciest fruit since most people from the village would hardly go out so far or climb so high just for some berries, and the fearless duo knew it. They had some close calls with angry goats and even once ran into a bear (definitely not a particularly fat house cat that was just wandering around) but they always escaped unscathed and no wiser than before, childhood perceptions of ones own invulnerability being what it is. One day they wandered too far. Too far from the village, too far into the gorge, too far away from the protection of the sun, which could not penetrate so far into the mountains. Distracted by the chain of berry bushes growing along the small river that snaked through the gorge, they did not notice the inherent danger, how anything coming from behind them would cut off their escape, forcing them even deeper into the mountains.

The pack of Festrogs were drawn by the life force of the children, specifically their blood. The hideously deformed, semi-quadrupedal corpses charged from their den, which was hidden at the base of one of the gorge walls beneath a petrified tree trunk, as soon as the sun dipped properly behind the mountain. Their ambush was heralded by their mindless screeching and scrambling over countless stones that had fallen into the gorge over countless eons, but their lack of subtly did not betray them. Their prey had nowhere to go, and feral as the Festrogs were, they knew that much.

The children ran as soon as they saw the Festrogs, as soon as they heard them. Calla's trick with her wings would not help them here. Deeper into the mountains they ran, following the shallow river, but the undead were far faster. Sarah pushed Calla ahead of her, screamed at her to keep running, to not look back, before she broke off and plunged into the river. She thought she could cross the river and run along the other side, back the way they came, the monsters getting bogged down in the water. They would chase her to the village where the strong blacksmith would slay them, then they would come find Calla. It was a plan. The river was shallow and narrow, only coming up to her waist. She could hear at least some of the monsters in the water behind her, but she couldn't turn to see if they were all following her, she could only hope. The river rapidly began to shallow, she was almost out. She would make it out of the water before the ghouls and gain on them.

It was a plan, but it was a child's plan. As she gained the far bank of the river, something huge and heavy slammed into her from behind, and she fell.

============

Sarah opened her eyes. She felt odd. She didn't feel anything. She knew she was laying on her back, but she could not feel the ground beneath her. She was neither hot nor cold, even though she was naked, but she didn't feel the shameful urge to cover up. She was looking up at the sky, but it was not the sky. Countless stars, far more than she had ever seen before, many far closer and larger than she had ever seen, wheeled overhead. They zoomed about, streaking across the sky leaving colorful cloudy trails behind them, but were also stationary. She had no strong feelings about the strange spectacle either way. She sits up and rubs her shoulder. She felt like her back should hurt for some reason, but it does not. She can barely feel her own hand on her skin. Looking about, she sees that she is more or less where she should be. There's the mountains - well, there's *A* mountain, and it seems to be floating over a purplish starey void. She's in the gorge next to the river, which is where she last remembers being, but the gorge is only a few inches deep and river is more like a trickle of water, hardly wider than her thumb.

Leaning back and propping herself up on her elbows, she looks around and finds it all rather unimpressive. She wants to lay back down and go to sleep, but there's something else. Something important she can't remember but hasn't quite forgotten. Annoyed that she hasn't quite remembered what she was supposed to have forgotten, she climbs to her feet. She would find whoever is in charge here and complain. She had no idea where to start, other than trying to reach the floating mountain seeming like a bad idea, but she was always told to follow water if she was lost, and that seems like as good an idea as any. She thinks about drinking from the little stream as best she can, but she's not really thirsty, even though she knows she's been hiking all day. The ground does not hurt her bare feet even though she walks carelessly, not trying to avoid any loose or sharp looking stones. Following the stream, she's quite sure it turns uphill at least once, but she is no expert.

The scenery remains strange. There is something large floating in the sky, kind of like the moon, but red, with a huge gash across its face, like the largest canyon one could imagine. There was a sun, a proper sun, not one of the weird big stars, but it seemed to do as it pleased. Sarah could not judge time because the silly sun bounced all about. Sometimes going this way, sometimes going that, sometimes sinking behind the floating mountain only to pop back up. She trudged along for at least six months, or perhaps only a few minutes, before entering a sparsely wooded land. Leaving the stream as it had proved rather an unreliable companion, she decided to head further into the woods, seeking denser foliage. Hoping she finds some berry bushes soon, she isn't actually hungry despite the years that have passed since she arrived. While things changed around her while staying the same, the only observable constant was the unobservable feeling that she is wasting time here, that she should not be here, that there is something important somewhere else. This forest could not go on forever, but even if it could, she would find the end eventually. She was just happy to have the strange sky hidden by the leaves for a time, though as soon as she thought this it seemed the trees intentionally bent their limbs enough to allow glimpses of the sky to pass through. Trees are always rude.

"You are going the wrong way."

Sarah jumps, startled, but not really, and she looks about placidly for the voice. The voice was decidedly strange. "Who said that." She asks in a tone so incurious that, were it written, it would not end with a question mark.

"I did. I said 'you are going the wrong way'." The voice sounded ancient, like grandfather Swift, but youthful and new, like a babbling baby, and also ageless like a stone. It sounded intelligent, but slow-witted. It was quick, but the words took ages to come out. It sounded like mother, like father, but also like ... Who was it? There was someone else. Mother. Father... Herself? No. Herself but smaller? That seemed closer. The voice was masculine, and feminine, and androgynous. There was one thing about the voice that stood out amongst the other sounds or not sounds: it was curious. Sarah hears a rustling behind and overhead and she turns slowly to look up at her mysterious stalker.

It was a bird of some kind. A four-winged raven wearing some kind of creepy pointed mask with glass covered eyeholes. It ruffles its many feathers, indignant. "You are never going to reach the River of Souls going that way." It chides her in its indescribable but also very plain voice. "The River of Souls is over there." Sarah look in the direction it points with one of its wings, which was back the way she came, and the trees seem to leap out of the way of her gaze, revealing, indeed, a large river.

"Huh. I always knew it was over here." Sarah lies as she starts walking towards the river. The birb follows her. It doesn't fly as it is a lazy bird, instead hopping from branch to branch, always overhead. At the bank of the river, Sarah stops and looks. It is a river all right. A normal river, though she thinks she can almost make out shapes within the water, vaporous, human-like shapes that form and dissolve all in an instant. "Soooo how does this work?"

The bird hops onto a branch hanging just over the placidly flowing water. "Well I'm no expert but I believe water generally flows downhill until it finds its level." It sounds annoyed and ruffles its feathers.

"But... what is it?"

"This, silly ex-mortal, is the River of Souls. You need only step into its warm embrace and it will whisk you away to Pharasma to be judged based on your deeds in life. Though..." It looks Sarah up and down, at least she thinks it does. She cannot see its eyes through the weird mask. "Given your age, you'll be off to see Pharasma's daughter, Atropos. You needn't be frightened, she's quite lovely."

"Do I have to go?" She feels she has unfinished business, but she is no expert.

"We all have to go some time, my dear. If you ask me, sooner is better than later. Life - the wretched place you've come from - is so terrible. So much suffering, and for what? To die anyways? No, I think not. It is difficult for those who are losing you to understand why you've been taken from them so soon, but this is better. Your real life begins in the afterlife. Here, you will undertake tasks that will have eternal effects."

The bird presents a compelling argument. Whatever she's not remembering to forget will have little consequences when compared to eternity. "What do I do? Do I just step into the water?"

The bird looks at her, then does a double take. It hops closer, the branch bending as if to facilitate the movement, and looks at Sarah again. It looks long and hard, undeniable curiosity in its nonexistent eyes. "You? No... No, not you. Not just yet. You are not quite dead." With a flap of its many wings, it launches off the branch only to land on Sarah's head. It somehow through its mask picks up a bit of her hair hanging limply on her head. "Heavenborn, are you? Your kind do cling ever so tightly to the mortal coil, though not so tightly as the Duskwalkers or the wretched Samsaran! Those blue-skinned monsters are impossible to get into the river!" He does sound quite tired. It must be hard when souls do not want to get into the River of Souls. The bird takes a deep, deep breath, and lets out a long, slow sigh.

"So I'm not dead?" Dead, not dead, dead, not dead. The afterlife is confusing and exhausting.

"You will be in a few moments. It's nothing to worry about. I could bundle you off into the river now, claim it was all a clerical error if anyone notices you went for a swim while you were still partly alive, but I am a professional." It nods its birdy head, satisfied with this statement, and seems to watch a particular soul drift down the river until it rounds the bend and disappears out of sight. "I like you, Sarah."

"I like you too, uhm..."

"Curio. Psychopomp extraordinaire!"

"I like you too, Curio." Its name fits its curious tone. Amazing how that works out.

"I really shouldn't do this..." It looks around conspiratorially. Seemingly satisfied that no one is watching, it continues. "I really shouldn't do this - keeping schedules is important after all, even in the afterlife - but I'll even let you wait for your sister."

"My... sister?" That does sound familiar, but then again one would be expected to know ones siblings.

"Ahh, yes. Terrible business, as all mortal business is. Those wretched 'U words' that haven't quite killed you will have killed you soon, and then they'll go after her. Her legs are tiny, she has no cha-"

A cataclysmic, deafening roar heard only by Sarah washes over her as she remembers her unfinished business - her beautiful baby sister she had abandoned with those monsters. With a retching scream that tears at her throat, Sarah collapses, grasping desperately for Curio, who gasps and flutters back, just out of reach. She feels her knees hit the ground. Her entire body aches. She feels the hot tears on her cheeks. "No no no no nononononon Curio PLEASE!" She wails, trying to crawl towards the bird, but her limbs feel like they're made of iron, and something else besides the weight. A gnawing sickness inside, rapidly growing. She realizes it was there before, but muted like everything else. No longer suppressed, she can feel it sapping her strength. She doesn't know what it is, but she knows her time is running out. "Curio, please, I have to get back to her! I left her alone, alone, she's all alone with those things! You have to send me back. You. Have. To send me back."

This was all her fault. Calla was in danger because of her. She was the big sister, it was her job to look out for Calla, to keep her from wandering too far into the mountains. Not only had she failed to protect her sister, she was the one who brought her into a dangerous situation in the first place. The agony of guilt and unrealized, unstoppable loss twists in her stomach and she fully collapses, unable to bear her own weight.

Curio is moved by her selflessness, though he does not understand it. Intrigued that, for whatever reason, she would rather suffer through mortality with her sister than both enter paradise now. Pharasma always says the trials mortals endure makes their souls stronger, so it is not an insane desire. Curio turns away, hopping towards the river, mumbling to himself. "I could send you back... You're not really dead, after all... Atropos will be cross but..." He turns back towards the sobbing girl and stares at her for a long, long time, his head tilted inquisitively. She does her best to meet his gaze, but she can't see much through the tears. "Are you quite certain?"

"Yes! I promise promise promise, just let me save her and I promise I'll come back."

"Such favors are not simple."

"Curio, I'll do anything you want. I'll come back. I swear. Let me save her and I'll come right back."

The bird looks her up and down. "Well you don't appear to have much to offer. Not even something as simple as a golden sword. Typical mortals." Sarah only stares in desperate hope. "I'll take... your shadow!"

"My shadow?"

"Mmhm. I've never had a shadow. Or maybe I lost mine so long ago I don't remember having one." Sarah had not noticed the bird was indeed shadowless.

"D-deal. You can have my shadow." Sarah sniffles, trying to put on a brave face. Curio hops past her, its wings spread wide. She's too tired to try and follow the bird as it hops behind her, but it circles around front quickly enough.

He prances around in front of her, an arrogant strut. "Eh, well? What do you think? Lookin' pretty good?" He does seem to have her shadow, though it's far too large for him and, while it generally seems to move with him as a shadow would, it is also the shadow of a naked girl despite being attached to a bird.

"I-it suits you, Curio. The other birds will be jealous." He perks up a bit at that. Apparently he likes that idea.

"Very well! A deal has been struck." With that, the bird flew away.

Sarah manages to pull herself into a sitting position, her back against a tree trunk, angling her face towards the sky to see if she can spot the bird. It was gone for ages, or so it seemed. Was it coming back? Had it stolen her shadow? Eventually it returns. The color was fading from Sarah's vision, but as the bird wings across the sun high in the sky, she catches a glimpse of something red and shiny, held somehow on the tip of its unmoving masked beak.

"Sorry." He huffs. "Had to travel quite a distance for this." Up close, the red gleam on his beak looks like a large, flawless ruby, with dark red liquid swirling inside.

"What's that?"

"You want to return to the land of the living, don't you? Those monsters munching on you as we speak drink blood, and you're going to need blood if you want to be alive! You're lucky. I took this from one of your long distant ancestors who came through here forever and a day ago. She bids you good luck." Curio hops up on a branch at eye level with the seated girl. It leans in close to her face, its tone fully and unmistakably serious. "Seraphina Bloodflame, when Pharasma calls you, will you answer?"

"I will."

"Then. Don't. Blink!" The bird lunges for the girls left eye.

============

Seraphina Bloodflame was born in blood and ash. Everything hurt, everything was on fire, but the pain in her left eye and across her back is almost incomprehensible. There's a massive wooshing sound, a painfully hot, wet wind, and inhuman screams.

When Seraphina's head stopped throbbing and she managed to open her eyes, she saw that she was back on the banks of the river in the gorge, this time surrounded by shouldering skeletal remains. Twisted, unnatural skeletons, and decidedly dead for good. She wastes no time as she stumbles to her feet, not even noticing the red light above her head, or the heavy something that feels like it's sitting on her shoulders. She stagger back a cross the river and stumbles off in the last direction she had seen Calla running. As she searches for her sister, the red light around her fades to a clean and comforting white.

She finds Calla quickly. While ages had seemed to pass on the banks of the River of Souls, only a few moments had gone by on the mortal plane. Calla is frightened by Seraphina's appearance, but in the end to two embrace, covered by two sets of protective white wings. That was how the villagers, attracted by the explosion of red light in the gorge, found them.

===Ancestry===
Agathion-Blooded Aasimar (Idyllkin) +2 Con, +2 Wis
Deathless Spirit Resistance 5 against negative energy. Do not lose hit points when they gain a negative level, +2 racial bonus on saving throws against death effects, energy drain, negative energy, and spells or spell-like abilities of the necromancy school. This racial trait replaces celestial resistance.
Halo Create light centered on her head at will as a spell-like ability. When using her halo, she gains a +2 circumstance bonus on Intimidate checks against evil creatures and on saving throws against becoming blinded or dazzled. This racial trait replaces the darkvision racial trait.
Heavenborn +2 bonus on Knowledge (planes) checks, cast spells with the good or light descriptor at +1 caster level. This racial trait replaces the skilled and spell-like ability racial traits.
Scion of humanity Counts as an outsider (native) and a humanoid (human) for any effect related to race. Pass for human without using the Disguise skill. This racial trait replaces the Celestial language and alters the native subtype.

===Bloodrager===
Archetype (Metamagic Rager) - Meta-Rage (5th level, Su): At 5th level, a metamagic rager can sacrifice additional rounds of bloodrage to apply a metamagic feat he knows to a bloodrager spell. This costs a number of rounds of bloodrage equal to twice what the spell's adjusted level would normally be with the metamagic feat applied (minimum 2 rounds). The metamagic rager does not have to be bloodraging to use this ability. The metamagic effect is applied without increasing the level of the spell slot expended, though the casting time is increased as normal. The metamagic rager can apply only one metamagic feat he knows in this manner with each casting. Additionally, when the metamagic rager takes a bloodline feat, he can choose to take a metamagic feat instead. This ability replaces improved uncanny dodge.
Archetype (Primalist) - Primal Choices (4th level): At 4th level and every 4 levels thereafter, a primalist can choose to take either his bloodline power or two barbarian rage powers. If the primalist chooses rage powers, those rage powers can be used in conjunction with his bloodrage, and his bloodrager level acts as his barbarian level when determining the effect of those bloodrage powers and any prerequisites. Any other prerequisites for a rage power must be met before a primalist can choose it. This ability does not count as the rage power class feature for determining feat prerequisites and other requirements. This ability alters the bloodline class feature.
Bloodline: Celestial By way of a celestial ancestor or divine intervention, the blood of angels fills your body with a holy potency, granting you a majestic visage and angelic powers when you enter your bloodrage.
Angelic Attacks: At 1st level, your melee attacks are considered good-aligned weapons for the purpose of bypassing damage reduction. Furthermore, when you deal damage with a melee attack to an evil outsider, you deal an additional 1d6 points of damage. This additional damage stacks with effects such as align weapon and those granted by a weapon with the holy weapon special ability.
Bloodrage (Unchained) (Su): The bloodrager’s source of internal power grants him the ability to bloodrage. At 1st level, a bloodrager can bloodrage for a number of rounds per day equal to 4 + his Constitution modifier. At each level after 1st, he can bloodrage for 2 additional rounds per day. Temporary increases to Constitution (such as those gained from bloodraging or spells like bear’s endurance) don’t increase the total number of rounds that a bloodrager can bloodrage per day. The total number of rounds of bloodrage per day is renewed after resting for 8 hours, although these hours need not be consecutive. A bloodrager can enter a bloodrage as a free action. While in a bloodrage, a bloodrager gains a +2 bonus on melee attack rolls, melee damage rolls, thrown weapon damage rolls, and Will saving throws. In addition, she takes a –2 penalty to Armor Class. She also gains 2 temporary hit points per Hit Die. These temporary hit points are lost first when a character takes damage, disappear when the rage ends, and are not replenished if the barbarian enters a rage again within 1 minute of her previous rage. While bloodraging, a bloodrager cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration. A bloodrager can end his bloodrage as a free action. When the bloodrage ends, he’s fatigued for a number of rounds equal to twice the number of rounds spent in the bloodrage. A bloodrager cannot enter a new bloodrage while fatigued or exhausted, but can otherwise enter bloodrage multiple times during a single encounter or combat. If a bloodrager falls unconscious, his bloodrage immediately ends, placing him in peril of death. Bloodrage counts as the barbarian’s rage class feature for the purpose of feat prerequisites, feat abilities, magic item abilities, and spell effects.
Fast Movement (+10) EX A barbarian’s base speed is faster than the norm for her race by 10 feet. This benefit applies only when she is wearing no armor, light armor, or medium armor, and not carrying a heavy load. Apply this bonus before modifying the barbarian’s speed because of any load carried or armor worn. This bonus stacks with any other bonuses to the barbarian’s base speed.

===Feats===
Extra Rage: +6 rnds/rage/day (Might trade for Improved Intiative)
Power Attack -1+2 (EitR): You can choose to take a –1 penalty on all melee attack rolls and combat maneuver checks to gain a +2 bonus on all melee damage rolls. This bonus to damage is increased by half (+50%) if you are making an attack with a two-handed weapon, a one handed weapon using two hands, or a primary natural weapon that adds 1-1/2 times your Strength modifier on damage rolls.

===Traits===
Friend in Every Town (Social) +1 Diplo, Diplo as class skill.
Magical Knack (Magic) +2 Bloodrager caster level.
Scholar of the Great Beyond (Faith) +1 KPlanes, KPlanes as Class Skill.
Undead Crusader (Campaign) +1 KReligion, KReligion as Class Skill. +1 Trait damage vs undead.
Umbral Unmasking (Drawback) You cast no shadow (DC 15 Perception to notice)

===Levels===
1: Bloodrager (Primalist/Metamagic Rager) 1: Feat: Extra Rage; FCB (Human): +1 rnd rage/day.

===Build Plan===
3: Take Arcane Strike at level 4
4: Replace Bloodline Power with Psychopomp, lesser psychopomp totem.
5: Quicken Metamagic Feat
7: Probably take 7 levels of Bloodrager so as not to delay second level spells, then into Mortal Usher

A bloodrager can enter a bloodrage as a free action. While in a bloodrage, a bloodrager gains a +4 morale bonus to his Strength and Constitution, as well as a +2 morale bonus on Will saves. In addition, he takes a –2 penalty to Armor Class. The increase to Constitution grants the bloodrager 2 hit points per Hit Die, but these disappear when the bloodrage ends and are not lost first like temporary hit points. While bloodraging, a bloodrager cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration.

A bloodrager can end his bloodrage as a free action. When the bloodrage ends, he’s fatigued for a number of rounds equal to twice the number of rounds spent in the bloodrage. A bloodrager cannot enter a new bloodrage while fatigued or exhausted, but can otherwise enter bloodrage multiple times during a single encounter or combat. If a bloodrager falls unconscious, his bloodrage immediately ends, placing him in peril of death.

Bloodrage counts as the barbarian’s rage class feature for the purpose of feat prerequisites, feat abilities, magic item abilities, and spell effects.

While in a rage, a barbarian gains a +2 bonus on melee attack rolls, melee damage rolls, thrown weapon damage rolls, and Will saving throws. In addition, she takes a –2 penalty to Armor Class. She also gains 2 temporary hit points per Hit Die. These temporary hit points are lost first when a character takes damage, disappear when the rage ends, and are not replenished if the barbarian enters a rage again within 1 minute of her previous rage. While in a rage, a barbarian cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skill (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration (such as spellcasting).

A barbarian can end her rage as a free action, and is fatigued for 1 minute after a rage ends. A barbarian can’t enter a new rage while fatigued or exhausted, but can otherwise enter a rage multiple times per day. If a barbarian falls unconscious, her rage immediately ends.

--------------
Paladin Code
--------------
The paladins of the Dawnflower are fierce warriors, like their goddess. They provide hope to the weak and support to the righteous. Their tenets include the following adages.
- I will protect my allies with my life. They are my light and my strength, as I am their light and their strength. We rise together.
- I will seek out and destroy the spawn of the Rough Beast. If I cannot defeat them, I will give my life trying. If my life would be wasted in the attempt, I will find allies. If any fall because of my inaction, their deaths lie upon my soul, and I will atone for each.
- I am fair to others. I expect nothing for myself but that which I need to survive.
- The best battle is a battle I win. If I die, I can no longer fight. I will fight fairly when the fight is fair, and I will strike quickly and without mercy when it is not.
- I will redeem the ignorant with my words and my actions. If they will not turn toward the light, I will redeem them by the sword.
- I will not abide evil, and will combat it with steel when words are not enough. I do not flinch from my faith, and do not fear embarrassment. My soul cannot be bought for all the stars in the sky.
- I will show the less fortunate the light of the Dawnflower. I will live my life as her mortal blade, shining with the light of truth.
- Each day is another step toward perfection. I will not turn back into the dark.

The paladins of Shelyn are peaceable promoters of art and beauty. They see the ugliness in evil, even when cloaked in the form of beauty, and their mission is to defend those who devote their lives to the creation of beauty, bring it forth themselves, and prevent the weak and foolish from being seduced by false promises. Their tenets include the following adages.
- I see beauty in others. As a rough stone hides a diamond, a drab face may hide the heart of a saint.
- I am peaceful. I come first with a rose rather than a weapon, and act to prevent conflict before it blossoms. I never strike first, unless it is the only way to protect the innocent.
- I accept surrender if my opponent can be redeemed—and I never assume that they cannot be. All things that live love beauty, and - I will show beauty’s answer to them.
- I live my life as art. I will choose an art and perfect it. When I have mastered it, I will choose another. The works I leave behind make life richer for those who follow.
- I will never destroy a work of art, nor allow one to come to harm, unless greater art arises from its loss. I will only sacrifice art if doing so allows me to save a life, for untold beauty can arise from an awakened soul.
- I lead by example, not with my blade. Where my blade passes, a life is cut short, and the world’s potential for beauty is lessened.

==========Description==========
Picture of Briar Rose
Height: 5'3" | Weight: 145 lbs. | Hair: Red | Eyes: Light Brown
Briar Rose is on the short side for a human, with an athletic build. Her eyes are dark brown and her red hair hangs nearly to her waist, her face heart-shaped with an angular jaw and small, pointed nose. Her complexion is tanned.
She usually dresses in loose-fitting brown or black cotton trousers and brightly colored, loose-fitting, sleeveless silk blouses. The sleeveless tops not only display her impressive musculature but also the tattoos – songbirds all colors of the rainbow are tattooed from the tips of both her fingers and running the lengths of her arms up to her shoulders. The birds turn to kaleidoscopic leaves near her shoulder blades, forming the canopy of an oak tree that covers most of her upper back. The trunk of the oak tree runs down the center of her back where it meets a pool of water at her lower back; Briar Rose's nymph mother lounges in the pool. The tree’s roots plunge below the surface of the water, down her buttocks and snaking down her legs, turning into multicolored ribbons, tapering off and ending at her toes. This large tattoo is not visible under her normal clothing, but she dresses to show it off when she can. She carries herself with confidence and moves in a way that suggests both grace and power.

==========Personality==========
Briar Rose is confident, patient, and kind. Outgoing and extroverted, she has a huge circle of friends and acquaintances. She quickly flits from one group of friends to the next, not favoring any groups or individuals over any others. She takes the tenets of her faith seriously, promoting ideals of peace, forgiveness, love, and acceptance to those she meets. She can often be found counseling quarreling couples or business partners. While she often comes off as naïve due to her insistence that all conflicts can be solved peacefully, she was raised in circles of duplicitous nobility and is more than capable of sussing out those with ulterior motives.
Briar Rose adores all forms of artistic expression. Very often she is late to appointments because she stops to enjoy any street performance she comes across. She spends a probably foolish amount of coin attending theater and the opera. Never one to take things too seriously, Briar Rose is quick to laugh. Free-spirited and bubbling with positivity, she always offers a bright spark of hope in dark times. She has a burning passion for all forms of art and loves to sing and dance, even if she is not very skilled at either.

==========Story==========
Dandelion Honeywood, nymph of the Sanos Forest in central Varisia, was used to the little gnomes of the forest bringing her petitions from outsiders. Most of the petitions implored her to save failing crops or relocate dangerous magical beasts. Lord Cornelis Lukas Applestar of Magnimar’s request was unique: sit for a year as a model for a marble sculpture. Magnimar was far further afield than she had ever been and the idea of leaving her secluded spring for a whole year frankly terrified her, but the flowery prose of lord Applestar’s petition and the rough sketch of the finished sculpture, as well as the adventure of traveling to and from the city, convinced her.

Lord Cornelis Lukas Applestar of Magnimar was the youngest son of lord and lady Applestar. With many older brothers and sisters to fulfil the families’ noble obligations, Cornelis was free to pursue his own desires in life. His passions turned out to be the arts, primarily painting and sculptures. In a vivid dream one night he was inspired to create a sculpture of a nymph standing in her pond. Cornelis decided to pursue the dream and create the statue. It was to be the largest sculpture he had ever produced and, in keeping with his dream, he sought out an appropriate nymph to be his muse, and a muse he found.

Dandelion Honeywood was the most beautiful being Cornelis had ever seen or could even imagine. It took him some time to acclimatize to working with such a stunning subject, but eventually work on the sculpture began in earnest. Despite having no other obligations to distract him from his work, the sculpture, made to be twice as large as Dandelion was, took over a year to complete. The artistic duo got to know and enjoy each other’s company over the months and were sorry to part ways as the project was finished. The pair were not romantically inclined towards each other but, perhaps with their passions fired by the long-awaited completion of the sculpture, they spent Dandelion’s last night in Magnimar together. Dandelion returned to her spring and Cornelis returned to smaller artistic projects.

Some months later, Dandelion surprised Cornelis at the family manor. She had not written that she would be visiting and, even more surprising, she carried an infant swaddled in oversized leaves in her arms. Their one night together had been more productive than they had planned. Dandelion, a flighty fey who lived in the woods and oft fought with owlbears and werewolves, had no desire to raise a child and she left their daughter with her father.

Briar Rose had a typical childhood for the daughter of a noble artist. Her education was focused more on the arts than practical knowledge and her father, who absolutely adored her, gave her free run of the manor and grounds. It was clear from early on that the girl was favored by the Radiant Prism; songbirds flocked to the half-nymph, announcing her presence wherever she went. Briar Rose spent much of her time traipsing through the expansive yards of the noble district of Magnimar, drawn to nature by her fey ancestry. Her skill with traditional arts surpassed most children her age, but there was one art she excelled at: martial arts. Her family was not entirely pleased that Briar Rose was traveling the path of a warrior, but it was obvious Sarenrae was calling her to something bigger than sculptures and paintings.

As an adolescent, Briar Rose was sent to the far side of the Inner Sea region to Oppara, the capital of Taldor, to be trained at the Golden Rose and House of Dawn's Redemption, the oldest and largest known temples to Shelyn and Sarenrae. Her father traveled with her to experience to art scene of the Taldane. It took much grooming and gentle but firm guidance from the priests, but Briar Rose learned to tame her wild, fey nature; she was molded into a warrior of strong morals, reflecting the virtues of the Radiant Prism. She was no stick in the mud, though, and enjoyed the city life.

Years passed and Briar Rose entered adulthood and completed her training. She was finally ready to set out on the missions Shelyn intended for her. Guided by her Muse and the scholars of Shelyn and Sarenrae's temples, Briar Rose was to delve in to forgotten crypts and temples and recover lost artworks to be catalogued and displayed as they were intended.

After many successful missions for Shelyn, Sarenrae called Briar Rose far to the north, to the haunted lands of Ustalav. Fragments of a powerful artifact, posited to be related to the Whispering Tyrant, had been uncovered deep in an old salt mine in the county of Barstoi, on the northeastern edge of Ustalav. The artifact was too powerful to be destroyed by the three temples of Pharasma the small county boasts, and needed to be transported to the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma in Korvosa to be properly disposed of. Many paladins and clerics of Sarenrae and Iomedae, led by a rather unpleasant paladin of Ragathiel, were drafted into the important move, and Briar Rose was included. The Sarenties were to meet the procession of Iomedaean in Caliphas to aid in moving the artifact through the treacherous Gravelands and then on through Varisia to Korvosa.

On her way to Caliphas, somewhere betwixt Grayce and the capital at a long forgotten and grown over cemetery, Briar Rose met professor Lorrimor, his scream through the fog drawing the young woman's attention. Using the haft of her glaive, she vaulted over the rotten wrought iron fence that bordered the lost collection of graves, sprinting over fallen headstones and cracked sarcophagi exposed by erosion or something more sinister. The sight of the two ghouls circling the scholar, hopelessly throwing various instruments of archeology and surveying at the undead, may have been enough to halt most people, but not Briar Rose. She had spent plenty of time in old necropoli searching for lost artwork and she was familiar with the monsters that haunt dark tombs and, being part fey, she was not threatened by the terrible diseases ghouls and their ilk carry. She quickly cut down one of the monsters, her polearm keeping her safe from its reaching claws, but lost her glaive when she struck an overhead tree branch. Quickly shifting to her shield and scimitar, she called upon the purifying holy flame of Sarenrae and cut down the second ghoul.

As it happened, professor Lorrimor was also headed to Caliphas once his research in the graveyard was finished. Briar Rose helped him, then the two made their way to Caliphas. the professor promised he would never forget what she had done for him. True to his word, months later, long after she had left Ustalav behind, a courier found her at a roadside chapel. He bore a letter sealed with wax—the crest of Petros Lorrimor. A summons from beyond the grave.

She usually dresses in loose-fitting brown or black cotton trousers and brightly colored, loose-fitting, sleeveless silk blouses. The sleeveless tops not only display her impressive musculature but also the tattoos – songbirds all colors of the rainbow are tattooed from the tips of both her fingers and running the lengths of her arms up to her shoulders. The birds turn to kaleidoscopic leaves near her shoulder blades, forming the canopy of an oak tree that covers most of her upper back. The trunk of the oak tree runs down the center of her back where it meets a pool of water at her lower back; Briar Rose's nymph mother lounges in the pool. The tree’s roots plunge below the surface of the water, down her buttocks and snaking down her legs, turning into multicolored ribbons, tapering off and ending at her toes. This large tattoo is not visible under her normal clothing, but she dresses to show it off when she can. She carries herself with confidence and moves in a way that suggests both grace and power.

==========Personality==========
Briar Rose is confident, patient, and kind. Outgoing and extroverted, she has a huge circle of friends and acquaintances. She quickly flits from one group of friends to the next, not favoring any groups or individuals over any others. She takes the tenets of her faith seriously, promoting ideals of peace, forgiveness, love, and acceptance to those she meets. She can often be found counseling quarreling couples or business partners. While she often comes off as naïve due to her insistence that all conflicts can be solved peacefully, she was raised in circles of duplicitous nobility and is more than capable of sussing out those with ulterior motives.
Briar Rose adores all forms of artistic expression. Very often she is late to appointments because she stops to enjoy any street performance she comes across. She spends a probably foolish amount of coin attending theater and the opera. Never one to take things too seriously, Briar Rose is quick to laugh. Free-spirited and bubbling with positivity, she always offers a bright spark of hope in dark times. She has a burning passion for all forms of art and loves to sing and dance, even if she is not very skilled at either.

==========Story==========
Dandelion Honeywood, nymph of the Sanos Forest in central Varisia, was used to the little gnomes of the forest bringing her petitions from outsiders. Most of the petitions implored her to save failing crops or relocate dangerous magical beasts. Lord Cornelis Lukas Applestar of Magnimar’s request was unique: sit for a year as a model for a marble sculpture. Magnimar was far further afield than she had ever been and the idea of leaving her secluded spring for a whole year frankly terrified her, but the flowery prose of lord Applestar’s petition and the rough sketch of the finished sculpture, as well as the adventure of traveling to and from the city, convinced her.

Lord Cornelis Lukas Applestar of Magnimar was the youngest son of lord and lady Applestar. With many older brothers and sisters to fulfil the families’ noble obligations, Cornelis was free to pursue his own desires in life. His passions turned out to be the arts, primarily painting and sculptures. In a vivid dream one night he was inspired to create a sculpture of a nymph standing in her pond. Cornelis decided to pursue the dream and create the statue. It was to be the largest sculpture he had ever produced and, in keeping with his dream, he sought out an appropriate nymph to be his muse, and a muse he found.

Dandelion Honeywood was the most beautiful being Cornelis had ever seen or could even imagine. It took him some time to acclimatize to working with such a stunning subject, but eventually work on the sculpture began in earnest. Despite having no other obligations to distract him from his work, the sculpture, made to be twice as large as Dandelion was, took over a year to complete. The artistic duo got to know and enjoy each other’s company over the months and were sorry to part ways as the project was finished. The pair were not romantically inclined towards each other but, perhaps with their passions fired by the long-awaited completion of the sculpture, they spent Dandelion’s last night in Magnimar together. Dandelion returned to her spring and Cornelis returned to smaller artistic projects.

Some months later, Dandelion surprised Cornelis at the family manor. She had not written that she would be visiting and, even more surprising, she carried an infant swaddled in oversized leaves in her arms. Their one night together had been more productive than they had planned. Dandelion, a flighty fey who lived in the woods and oft fought with owlbears and werewolves, had no desire to raise a child and she left their daughter with her father.

Briar Rose had a typical childhood for the daughter of a noble artist. Her education was focused more on the arts than practical knowledge and her father, who absolutely adored her, gave her free run of the manor and grounds. It was clear from early on that the girl was favored by the Radiant Prism; songbirds flocked to the half-nymph, announcing her presence wherever she went. Briar Rose spent much of her time traipsing through the expansive yards of the noble district of Magnimar, drawn to nature by her fey ancestry. Her skill with traditional arts surpassed most children her age, but there was one art she excelled at: martial arts. Her family was not entirely pleased that Briar Rose was traveling the path of a warrior, but it was obvious Sarenrae was calling her to something bigger than sculptures and paintings.

As an adolescent, Briar Rose was sent to the far side of the Inner Sea region to Oppara, the capital of Taldor, to be trained at the Golden Rose and House of Dawn's Redemption, the oldest and largest known temples to Shelyn and Sarenrae. Her father traveled with her to experience to art scene of the Taldane. It took much grooming and gentle but firm guidance from the priests, but Briar Rose learned to tame her wild, fey nature; she was molded into a warrior of strong morals, reflecting the virtues of the Radiant Prism. She was no stick in the mud, though, and enjoyed the city life.

Years passed and Briar Rose entered adulthood and completed her training. She was finally ready to set out on the missions Shelyn intended for her. Guided by her Muse and the scholars of Shelyn and Sarenrae's temples, Briar Rose was to delve in to forgotten crypts and temples and recover lost artworks to be catalogued and displayed as they were intended.

After many successful missions for Shelyn, Sarenrae called Briar Rose far to the north, to the haunted lands of Ustalav. Fragments of a powerful artifact, posited to be related to the Whispering Tyrant, had been uncovered deep in an old salt mine in the county of Barstoi, on the northeastern edge of Ustalav. The artifact was too powerful to be destroyed by the three temples of Pharasma the small county boasts, and needed to be transported to the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma in Korvosa to be properly disposed of. Many paladins and clerics of Sarenrae and Iomedae, led by a rather unpleasant paladin of Ragathiel, were drafted into the important move, and Briar Rose was included. The Sarenties were to meet the procession of Iomedaean in Caliphas to aid in moving the artifact through the treacherous Gravelands and then on through Varisia to Korvosa.

On her way to Caliphas, somewhere betwixt Grayce and the capital at a long forgotten and grown over cemetery, Briar Rose met professor Lorrimor, his scream through the fog drawing the young woman's attention. Using the haft of her glaive, she vaulted over the rotten wrought iron fence that bordered the lost collection of graves, sprinting over fallen headstones and cracked sarcophagi exposed by erosion or something more sinister. The sight of the two ghouls circling the scholar, hopelessly throwing various instruments of archeology and surveying at the undead, may have been enough to halt most people, but not Briar Rose. She had spent plenty of time in old necropoli searching for lost artwork and she was familiar with the monsters that haunt dark tombs and, being part fey, she was not threatened by the terrible diseases ghouls and their ilk carry. She quickly cut down one of the monsters, her polearm keeping her safe from its reaching claws, but lost her glaive when she struck an overhead tree branch. Quickly shifting to her shield and scimitar, she called upon the purifying holy flame of Sarenrae and cut down the second ghoul.

As it happened, professor Lorrimor was also headed to Caliphas once his research in the graveyard was finished. Briar Rose helped him, then the two made their way to Caliphas. the professor promised he would never forget what she had done for him. True to his word, months later, long after she had left Ustalav behind, a courier found her at a roadside chapel. He bore a letter sealed with wax—the crest of Petros Lorrimor. A summons from beyond the grave.

Trait: Sacred Conduit - +1 Channel DCs.
Trait: Chance Savior - +2 Init.

--------------
Paladin Code
--------------
The paladins of the Dawnflower are fierce warriors, like their goddess. They provide hope to the weak and support to the righteous. Their tenets include the following adages.
- I will protect my allies with my life. They are my light and my strength, as I am their light and their strength. We rise together.
- I will seek out and destroy the spawn of the Rough Beast. If I cannot defeat them, I will give my life trying. If my life would be wasted in the attempt, I will find allies. If any fall because of my inaction, their deaths lie upon my soul, and I will atone for each.
- I am fair to others. I expect nothing for myself but that which I need to survive.
- The best battle is a battle I win. If I die, I can no longer fight. I will fight fairly when the fight is fair, and I will strike quickly and without mercy when it is not.
- I will redeem the ignorant with my words and my actions. If they will not turn toward the light, I will redeem them by the sword.
- I will not abide evil, and will combat it with steel when words are not enough. I do not flinch from my faith, and do not fear embarrassment. My soul cannot be bought for all the stars in the sky.
- I will show the less fortunate the light of the Dawnflower. I will live my life as her mortal blade, shining with the light of truth.
- Each day is another step toward perfection. I will not turn back into the dark.

The paladins of Shelyn are peaceable promoters of art and beauty. They see the ugliness in evil, even when cloaked in the form of beauty, and their mission is to defend those who devote their lives to the creation of beauty, bring it forth themselves, and prevent the weak and foolish from being seduced by false promises. Their tenets include the following adages.
- I see beauty in others. As a rough stone hides a diamond, a drab face may hide the heart of a saint.
- I am peaceful. I come first with a rose rather than a weapon, and act to prevent conflict before it blossoms. I never strike first, unless it is the only way to protect the innocent.
- I accept surrender if my opponent can be redeemed—and I never assume that they cannot be. All things that live love beauty, and - I will show beauty’s answer to them.
- I live my life as art. I will choose an art and perfect it. When I have mastered it, I will choose another. The works I leave behind make life richer for those who follow.
- I will never destroy a work of art, nor allow one to come to harm, unless greater art arises from its loss. I will only sacrifice art if doing so allows me to save a life, for untold beauty can arise from an awakened soul.
- I lead by example, not with my blade. Where my blade passes, a life is cut short, and the world’s potential for beauty is lessened.

Height: 5'3" | Weight: 145 lbs. | Hair: Red | Eyes: Light Brown
Lizbit is on the short side for a human, with an athletic build. Her eyes are dark brown and her red hair hangs nearly to her waist, her face heart-shaped with an angular jaw and small, pointed nose. Her complexion is tanned.

She usually dresses in loose-fitting brown or black cotton trousers and brightly colored, loose-fitting, sleeveless silk blouses. The sleeveless tops not only display her impressive musculature but also the tattoos – songbirds all colors of the rainbow are tattooed from the tips of both her fingers and running the lengths of her arms up to her shoulders. The birds turn to kaleidoscopic leaves near her shoulder blades, forming the canopy of an oak tree that covers most of her upper back. The trunk of the oak tree runs down the center of her back where it meets a pool of water at her lower back; Lizbit’s nymph mother lounges in the pool. The tree’s roots plunge below the surface of the water, down her buttocks and snaking down her legs, turning into multicolored ribbons, tapering off and ending at her toes. This large tattoo is not visible under her normal clothing, but she dresses to show it off when she can. She carries herself with confidence and moves in a way that suggests both grace and power.

==========Personality==========
Lizbit is confident, patient, and kind. Outgoing and extroverted, she has a huge circle of friends and acquaintances. She quickly flits from one group of friends to the next, not favoring any groups or individuals over any others. She takes the tenets of her faith seriously, promoting ideals of peace, forgiveness, love, and acceptance to those she meets. She can often be found counseling quarreling couples or business partners. While she often comes off as naïve due to her insistence that all conflicts can be solved peacefully, she was raised in circles of duplicitous nobility and is more than capable of sussing out those with ulterior motives.
Lizbit adores all forms of artistic expression. Very often she is late to appointments because she stops to enjoy any street performance she comes across. She spends a probably foolish amount of coin attending theater and the opera. Never one to take things too seriously, Lizbit is quick to laugh. Free-spirited and bubbling with positivity, she always offers a bright spark of hope in dark times. She has a burning passion for all forms of art and loves to sing and dance, even if she is not very skilled at either.

==========Story==========
Dandelion Honeywood, nymph of the Sanos Forest in central Varisia, was used to the little gnomes of the forest bringing her petitions from outsiders. Most of the petitions implored her to save failing crops or relocate dangerous magical beasts. Lord Cornelis Lukas Applestar of Magnimar’s request was unique: sit for a year as a model for a marble sculpture. Magnimar was far further afield than she had ever been and the idea of leaving her secluded spring for a whole year frankly terrified her, but the flowery prose of lord Applestar’s petition and the rough sketch of the finished sculpture, as well as the adventure of traveling to and from the city, convinced her.

Lord Cornelis Lukas Applestar of Magnimar was the youngest son of lord and lady Applestar. With many older brothers and sisters to fulfil the families’ noble obligations, Cornelis was free to pursue his own desires in life. His passions turned out to be the arts, primarily painting and sculptures. In a vivid dream one night he was inspired to create a sculpture of a nymph standing in her pond. Cornelis decided to pursue the dream and create the statue. It was to be the largest sculpture he had ever produced and, in keeping with his dream, he sought out an appropriate nymph to be his muse, and a muse he found.

Dandelion Honeywood was the most beautiful being Cornelis had ever seen or could even imagine. It took him some time to acclimatize to working with such a stunning subject, but eventually work on the sculpture began in earnest. Despite having no other obligations to distract him from his work, the sculpture, made to be twice as large as Dandelion was, took over a year to complete. The artistic duo got to know and enjoy each other’s company over the months and were sorry to part ways as the project was finished. The pair were not romantically inclined towards each other but, perhaps with their passions fired by the long-awaited completion of the sculpture, they spent Dandelion’s last night in Magnimar together. Dandelion returned to her spring and Cornelis returned to smaller artistic projects.

Some months later, Dandelion surprised Cornelis at the family manor. She had not written that she would be visiting and, even more surprising, she carried an infant swaddled in oversized leaves in her arms. Their one night together had been more productive than they had planned. Dandelion, a flighty fey who lived in the woods and oft fought with owlbears and werewolves, had no desire to raise a child and she left their daughter with her father.

Elizabeth, who went by Lizbit, had a typical childhood for the daughter of a noble artist. Her education was focused more on the arts than practical knowledge and her father, who absolutely adored her, gave her free run of the manor and grounds. It was clear from early on that the girl was favored by the Radiant Prism; songbirds flocked to the half-nymph, announcing her presence wherever she went. Lizbit spent much of her time traipsing through the expansive yards of the noble district of Magnimar, drawn to nature by her fey ancestry. Her skill with traditional arts surpassed most children her age, but there was one art she excelled at: martial arts. Her family was not entirely pleased that Lizbit was traveling the path of a warrior, but it was obvious Sarenrae was calling her to something bigger than sculptures and paintings.

As an adolescent, Lizbit was sent to the far side of the Inner Sea region to Oppara, the capital of Taldor, to be trained at the Golden Rose and House of Dawn's Redemption, the oldest and largest known temples to Shelyn and Sarenrae. Her father traveled with her to experience to art scene of the Taldane. It took much grooming and gentle but firm guidance from the priests, but Lizbit learned to tame her wild, fey nature; she was molded into a warrior of strong morals, reflecting the virtues of the Radiant Prism. She was no stick in the mud, though, and enjoyed the city life.

Years passed and Lizbit entered adulthood and completed her training. She was finally ready to set out on the missions Shelyn intended for her. Guided by her Muse and the scholars of Shelyn and Sarenrae's temples, Lizbit was to delve in to forgotten crypts and temples and recover lost artworks to be catalogued and displayed as they were intended. Before leaving on her first mission, Lizbit took the name “Freewind” to represent her free-spirited nature.

After many successful missions for Shelyn, Sarenrae called Lizbit far to the north, to the haunted lands of Ustalav. Fragments of a powerful artifact, posited to be related to the Whispering Tyrant, had been uncovered deep in an old salt mine in the county of Barstoi, on the northeastern edge of Ustalav. The artifact was too powerful to be destroyed by the three temples of Pharasma the small county boasts, and needed to be transported to the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma in Korvosa to be properly disposed of. Many paladins and clerics of Sarenrae and Iomedae, led by a rather unpleasant paladin of Ragathiel were drafted into the important move, and Lizbit was included. The Sarenties were to meet the procession of Iomedaean in Caliphas to aid in moving the artifact through the treacherous Gravelands and then on through Varisia to Korvosa.

On her way to Caliphas, somewhere betwixt Grayce and the capital at a long forgotten and grown over cemetery, Lizbit met professor Lorrimor, his scream through the fog drawing the young woman's attention. Using the haft of her glaive, she vaulted over the rotten wrought iron fence that bordered the lost collection of graves, sprinting over fallen headstones and cracked sarcophagi exposed by erosion or something more sinister. The sight of the two ghouls circling the scholar, hopelessly throwing various instruments of archeology and surveying at the undead, may have been enough to halt most people, but not Lizbit. She had spent plenty of time in old necropoli searching for lost artwork and she was familiar with the monsters that haunt dark tombs and, being part fey, she was not threatened by the terrible diseases ghouls and their ilk carry. She quickly cut down one of the monsters, her polearm keeping her safe from its reaching claws, but lost her glaive when she struck an overhead tree branch. Quickly shifting to her shield and scimitar, she called upon the purifying holy flame of Sarenrae and cut down the second ghoul.

As it happened, professor Lorrimor was also headed to Caliphas once his research in the graveyard was finished. Lizbit helped him, then the two made their way to Caliphas. the professor promised he would never forget what she had done for him. True to his word, months later, long after she had left Ustalav behind, a courier found her at a roadside chapel. He bore a letter sealed with wax—the crest of Petros Lorrimor. A summons from beyond the grave.