Lotte Highmark's page

About Lotte Highmark

(I am intentionally dumping Wisdom - it's quite in character.)

When Lotte was born, the strange, dark birthmark covering half her face made everyone gasp in wonder. Such a marking, on a child with mixed ancestry, born to two priests of Nethys - certainly this was an auspicious sign, the god bestowing his own countenance upon the girl destined to become his most powerful follower!

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“Tell me the story of the angel again, Papa!”

“You want that story every night, sweet.”

“Because it’s the best!”

The old gnome sighs with a small smile on his face. “Of course, child.” And he begins the fairy tale Lotte knows so well.

“Nethys, overseer of all magic in the world, desired to share his gift. So he sent his servitors, spirits of prodigious wizards of ages past, into the world to search out mortals deserving of the inspiration of the god. One by one, his servants came back, reporting that no one could be found who was worthy of the gift - all were too stubborn, too limited in their views of the world. But then, one spirit returned in triumph.

“He succeeded where all others had failed, because he did not seek among the learned and powerful, among the wizarding academies and the lofty sanctums of the arcane arts. Instead, he appeared to a little girl, a descendant of his, and began to whisper to her as she lay in her bed at night, weaving together dreams for her of grand power and magical discoveries such as the world had never seen.

“And the little girl, trusting in the wisdom of her angel of magic, began to perform wondrous acts. She did not cling to the old, dusty arcane ways - she blazed her own trail of learning, guided by the spirit who whispered words of power in her head as she lay in her bed. And she became Nethys’s most powerful servitor, a sorceress grand and terrible to behold in the height of her power. Never be afraid to learn and discover your own path, child, for this way lies the blessing of the All-Seeing Eye.”

Lotte smiled. “Will I have an angel someday, Papa?”

“Perhaps when I meet Nethys, I’ll tell him to send an angel just for you.” He affectionately taps her nose. “But the spirit didn’t give her something new - he helped her unlock the power and greatness she already possessed. You have that power within you, too; you’ve been born to greatness, with the mark of the All-Seeing Eye.

“Now, go to sleep, my angel.”

Lotte’s grandfather kisses her forehead and walks out as Lotte drifts off to sleep, with visions of wondrous evocations and illusions dancing through her dreams, guided by a figure noble and grand in arcane splendor, with her grandfather’s face.

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“But I don’t understand!”

“You aren’t focusing properly,” her arcane master chided her. “Conjuration is a subtle magic, connecting to the fabric of reality and shaping it as you will. Now, again.”

Lotte stares down at her hands, performing the compex set of gestures and the low verbal incantation that should create a cloud of mist from her open palms. But no matter how she tries, the spell simply won’t come. She was told her entire childhood that she was marked for magical greatness - but after being sent to the Arcanist's Circle to study as a wizard, her grand power has yet to make even the slightest of appearances.

Suddenly, as the other students focus on their invocations and an older acolyte comes in with a note for the teacher, she bolts upward from her desk and throws down her spellbook with a loud thump. “This is stupid! I don’t need these silly books - “

In the midst of her tirade, she sees the look of pity that suddenly crosses the old master’s face, and she stops mid-sentence. “What? What is it?”

“Lotte...come with me out into the hall…”

“What is it? Tell me!”

“Your grandfather’s sick.”

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The night after the funeral, Lotte lies in bed, weeping bitterly. “Papa…why...why did you leave me? The Academy is...they just don’t understand that I’m the chosen of the god! They keep teaching me wrong…”

“Then let me help.”

She opens her eyes and sees a shadowy, vaguely human figure standing next to her bed. Wings are folded behind its back, and across its face is a glowing mark the same shape as the birthmark on her own visage.

“Wait, did he...he remembered! He sent you!” She throws herself from the bed and into the figure’s arms, and as she caresses it, she does not see the birthmark on her own face light up as well. “My angel!”

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In the years since her grandfather’s passing, Lotte has bloomed and grown in her arcane skill. She stays with her angel into the wee hours of the night, and the figure has taught her several tricks - whispering messages across great distances, causing objects to glow with an unearthly light, causing beings to grow to great size.

But for its guidance, the angel has demands. Lotte, while charming and enjoyable to be around, has no close relationships besides with her angel; it requires her complete devotion, and is utterly dedicated to her in return. She is not often seen without her angel by her side - even as she lies in bed each night, her angel is there, curled around her protectively until it disappears as she falls asleep.

Her arcane skill has led to a rise in fame, and she has won several magic ability competitions. That so many contenders lost critical foci just before presenting or missed their opportunity due to miscommunicated schedules may seem odd, but Lotte’s grace and ability have won her many friends.

She makes her living as a singer in Oriat, the star of her troupe after the sudden illness of the previous diva. Her performances entrance audiences, with her magic serving to enhance her stage presence, allowing her to throw her voice around the stage or change lighting at a whim.