Nathara's page

Zaira Darkblade, NG (previously CE) female elf (redeemed) cleric of Socothbenoth, Nathara's mother
Talrir Darkblade, CE male elf warpriest of Nocticula, Nathara's father (deceased)
Celindril Whitefang, CG male elf bard, Nathara's betrothed
Calwen Snowpaw, NG female elf cavalier (Order of the White Rose - Order of the Dragon in rule terms), the woman who had tracked and brought Nathara's parents to justice
Arnial Swiftstep, CG male elf spelldancer, Nathara's mentor and teacher

Nathara Darkblade's was a tiefling and she knew exactly why. Not because of some demonic ancestor, but because her parents, both elves, had deliberately embraced the darkness. They had once been followers of Calistria, as many elves. But the ways of Calistria, in balance with the very nature of elves, was at some point not enough for them any more, they challenged each other to explore more, to explore deeper and to drive it further.

Over the curse of decades the couple slowly succumbed to evil and worshipped demon lords. When Nathara was conceived it was on a blood soaked altar in the center of an orgy, witnessed by a succubus, slaves which were meant to be sacrificed and a handful naked worshippers who had been selected for their good looks and were themselves coated in blood.

When Zaira, Nathara's mother, was pregnant their excesses scaled a little down, even though they continued to make bloody sacrifices in order to appease their demon lords as well as the fey of the unseelie court, who tolerated them in a fraction of the forest which they controlled. When Nathara was born things changed for her parents, they wanted out of what they had done and give their daughter a home where she might experience love, but they had to realize that they were in too deep.

A group of elven cavaliers of the Order of the White Rose, allied with fey of the seelie court, found them. Nathara's father was slain, but Zaira surrendered to them, confessed and repented her sins and bowed to their judgement. Normally, given the depth of her sins, she would have been executed anyway, but there was still the little tiefling girl which needed a mother, and elven tieflings are generally hard to broker to a foster family. Thus, she was allowed to live, but taken to the Kodar Mountains, to the Twilight Rose Keep, a place of learning, a set apart from the race of mankind and to Zaira an inescapable prison, a strangely beautiful prison, filled with the wonders, art of music of elvenkind in all shapes and colours, but a prison in one of the most hostile to life environments there are on Avistan.

Zaira would never be allowed to leave it again, but managed to abandon her dark ways altogether and earned the trust of her wardens over the course of the decades; she did not even want to rebel, for she wanted a different life for her daughter than the one she had lead herself. Nathara grew up in that fortress of magic between two worlds. She became herself a teacher, teaching about the temptations of darkness and reminding those that listened that everyone can fall, and that pride is the most dangerous of sins.

While Nathara had some unnatural, demonic drives, she was completely innocent herself. And so, as she grew up and showed talent and interest in what was around her, the council of the fortress in the mists allowed her to be trained as a spelldancer in order to give her a purpose and a valve for her demonic drives, but would kept under close surveillance and not allowed out of the fortress without observation until she had proven herself. And the world she saw beyond the Twilight Rose Keep was a freezing cold one, bordering the land of the witches which had made that religion and means of terror alike.

Nathara could not deny the rage within her, but was raised, if secluded, by a loving mother and compassionate wardens who actually cared about her well-being and considered it their duty to give Nathara a fair chance, despite the circumstances and the lingering temptation whith which she would be confronted.

In consequence Nathara grew up a friendly, if unworldly, innocent girl with an undercurrent of rage. Most elven men were not appealed by the tiefling, but she fell in love with a fellow student of hers. Celindril Whitefang was already an accomplished world traveler, a bard who wished to deepen his theoretical knowledge on magic in a secluded environment, and there was no way she could possibly resist his charm. He visited the enclave every now and then and every time he did their relationship became deeper over the years. The more time she spend with him, the more she realized that she could not keep up with his knewledge of the world and his experience.

At the very day her training was concluded and she was permitted to call herself a magus he proposed marriage to her and Nathara accepted. But Nathara asked to be given the freedom to explore the world on her own for a decade, so she could meet him on eyelevel.

And thus she left the Twilight Rose Keep. Her feet brought her inevitably closer to the large cities at the Inner Sea, driven by the desire to see the fabled city of Absalom and the Cathedral of the Ascendant Court, where the star stone now rests.

On the road she came through Taldor - the old culture whose language is now known is common and once made Avistan their realm after the elves had retreated to Sovyrean, Azlant was destroyed and Thassilon had fallen. While commonly described as old fashioned and a decadent shadow of former glory, Nathara was intrigued by the Taldan take on chivalry, swordplay, knightly tournaments, feudalism and their grand balls. She decided to spend more time exploring the facets of the once glorious empire and seek adventures in the service of its ladies and lords. After Oppara she turned towards the Gate to the east, to find out where the current human society had come from.

Leaving the Twilight

Frozen wind blew over the highest mountain top and ice was drifting along with snow in the sharp wind. The two women, both elves in the farthest sense, stood opposed to each other, their blades ready. Both of them had white hair which was drifting in the wind, the one had thin strains with a hint of blonde and a strange snow-like sparkle to it, the other an unforgiving white like the thickest of ice shelves.

Calwen Snowpaw was an adventurer beyond her prime but still a force to be reckoned with. She was don in the most beautiful mithral armor, like woven from strands of hazel leaves, and snow leopard cloak shielded her from the cold. She held a long elegant bastard sword against her oponent and defended herself with a silvery shield.

Nathara knew her well. Calwen was the woman who once killed her father in battle when Nathara herself had been but a little girl of twenty-five years. Nathara wore simpler and darker cloak of red and crimson, edges and prongs stood out from the framing of her chainmail armor, emphasizing both feminity and aggression. Her skin was grey as ash, and claws sprung out of her both armored right and the plain, empty left and two little horns sprung from her forhead. She was clearly an elf, but it was plain to see that there was a demon inside her.

Motionless they stood for minutes luring for the first mistake of the other. Nathara wondered how Calwen could hold out that long, the cold touched the pure elf a lot more than the tainted one. Eventually Nathara rushed forward. A ruse, a thrust towards the other's leg, retreat and a daze spell. Calwen shrugged everything off with minimal motion of her blade.

"What's wrong with you?" The pure white elf goaded Nathara, the tiefling. "You can do better than that..."

But before she had finished talking, Calwen started a counter attack. Nathara had her trouble fending it off, but managed to jump clear of her. The rage of the demon inside her was boiling, a feeling not of anger but rather a kind of lust and joy filled her. Nathara was experienced enough to not succumb to it, but she used it and with the swift elegance of a dancer she continued the motion, twirled around and let her blade sink towards her enemy's back.

"You're beaten, old woman!" she proclaimed and held the blade to Calwen's neck.

"Am I?" returned the killer of her Nathara's father and glanced roguishly down, indicating another blade in her shield hand.

When Nathara made the mistake to follow her gaze the Calwen managed to overcome her. She circumvented Nathara's defense and planted a cold-lipped yet, hearty kiss on the tiefling's cheek.

Nathara was completely flabbergasted for the moment, but was infected with Calwen's laughter and fell into it.

"You still get the better of me" she whispered. "Let's go somewhere warm, you must be freezing your ass off."

"There are things you can only learn out there in the field, not in training. Don't worry about it. You're as good as a recruit spelldancer can get. But let's stay a while before we get down to the ceremony; a bit cold wind does not scare me."

"Hmmmm?" made Nathara a bit insecure and tried her best to shield her friend from the cold.

"Did you love your father? We have never talked about what happened that day..."

Nathara sighed, sat down on the smooth rock plates covering the mountain top which was really a concealed tower. "Yes I loved him. I know a lot of bad things about him. I know that I am a tiefling because of what he an mom did. I know that their perversion knew no limits, that celebrated orgies, fraternized with demons, and killed countless of slaves in the process of sating their dark desires. I know I was conceaved in one of the wildest of their orgies in the presence of a succubus, half a dozen monsterous humanoids in chains on all kinds of drugs, slaves of all humanoid races to be raped and murdered and sacrificed for their pleasure. But in the end, he my father had one weak spot, one thing that was good in him, and that was his untainted love for me.

I realize that he had to die and my parents had to be stopped. If you had not I... I dare not think what I may have become. You saved my sould when you killed my father. But he loved me, and I love him in turn. In one of my... well, rather embarressing heroic fantasies, I climb down into the Abyss, free all those who my parents have either deceived or simply torn into the abyss against there will. And once they're all free I shall save my father."

Calwen bend her head slightly to the side as she watched Nathara with her deep ocean eyes. "Do you feel responsible for their sins?"

Nathara had to think about how to put it. "No, not quite, but they are part of what defines me. I don't have to carry them, but I want to. My father has no chance of earning redemption anymore, but I might, in his name and for the love with which he bestowed me."

"Don't burden yourself too much, 'Thara. Not all evils can be undone and if so, it takes time. You're one of the most talented spelldancers I've seen, it's perfectly alright to take pride in that and think about yourself every once in a while." She wrapped her cloak tigher around her self and switched the topic. "You heard that Celindril has will arrive any moment? He has been spotted at the southern tower."

Nathara nodded and kept her head a bit lowered in embarrassment. "I have a new outfit ready to surprise him, but I will need your help with the body paint. And the oil... and... well, you know. It's a tradition between us."

"You mean one of the little bits of nothing you wear to rob him of his sanity? But of course I will!" she leaned consiprationally closer to Nathara and they discussed a few details.

....

The ceremony was not a particular big one, but in the central court, down in the misty valley between the tower mountains, Nathara's training was officially declared complete - she was a fully fledged spelldancer now - and the afternoon was one of celebration and dancing to her and her closest friends. When day became night Calwen and Nathara retreated for quite a while, letting Celindril wait.

Finally Calwen he went to meet her. Of course he knew that she would think of something to taunt him but still he was speechless when he found her, like a living, elven succubus, dressed in oil, a little black colour and thin bronce chains. She stepped towards and it did not wait for him to take the initiative, but kissed him in all her demonic desire.

"I... wait! I need ..."

She let him a little space but did not stop to tease him.

He fumbled a sheet of parchment out of his jacket, there seemed to be a poem written on it. She did not hinder him, but Nathara's sharp tiefling claws were running oh, so gently along the reflex zones along his arms, nonchalantly slicing his jacket apart, and her black teeth were snarling at him.

Celindril discarded the letter in order to cut this short and kneeled down. From the another pocket he produced a little box. "Lady Nathara Darkblade, will you marry me?"

That got her indeed speechless and she blinked several times, with a tear in the corner of her eyes. "Yes." she whispered and kneeled down to him to kiss him.

They kissed for a while longer. The thought of being promised to a man entirely fulfilled Nathara and the prospect of having a life and a family with him filled a glowing warmth she had not known until then. "But..." she carefully started: "You have to give me some time... I feel... I am not up to you yet, you see. I have spend almost my entire life here and now I am free for the first time in my life. I want you like nothing else; but I don't know anything about the world yet, nor about my abilities in real test. I have not achieved anything yet, nothing to justify the faith my teachers put in me.

You... you have seen the whole world, had many a woman and man. Explored ancient ruins, fought evils, made discoveries. I believe we were meant to be with each other, but I hardly know anything but you. My love will always be with you, but I need to..."

He put a finger on her lips. "You need time. Rub off your horns. I understand."

She did not get the image: "Why, what's wrong with my... oh..."

...

It would still be a while until dawn when Nathara slipped out of Celindrils arms and stood up, dressed in nothing but her engagement ring. Her conflicting thoughts were leaving her restless. If she would return to his arms now she would never have the strength to leave and explore the world on her own before she married him.

She picked up the parchment with the poem he wrote for her and read it - she did not need light to do that. Warmth was filling her furious heart and for a while she honestly considered to just forget about her plans.

She caressed him gently and woke him up. "I must leave, my love. I already long for the day we shall be re-united, but I must leave."

"Don't you... don't you want me to join you?"

"It would not be the same, I cannot be yours until I truly understand who I am and have proven it."

He sighed, obviously unhappy with, but knew he had to give her that freedom. He gave him a long and loving goodbye kiss. Then she put on her clothes and left to explore the world and find herself in it.

Nathara is a deeply compassionate, though unworldly elven tiefling. She has very naive ideas about adventuring and the way the world works, and she knows it. However, she feels that making up for that disadvantage is absolutely required, if her relationship with her betrothed is to last over centuries. She loves him and is absolutely faithful to him, even though she does not really expect the same of him - there is too much of both artist and elf in him.

She is fascinated by magic and everything that deals with art. Her way with the sword is an important way for her to focus, maintain physical discipline and be one with herself, including her demonic heritage, motion and magic are invevitably intertwined for her. She is less interested in gathering knowledge, but in understanding magic and combat as a form of artful expression and perfectioning it, but she will fight for her ideals whenever she can, following the image heroes from epics.

Age: 134 ((using elf ageing tables, not tiefling))
Weight: 138 lbs.
Height: 5' 10"
Eyes: all red, orange glowing iris, black feline pupils
Hair: white
Skin: ash grey
Hallmark: small forehead horns, claws, patches with black oily scales, sharp black predator teeth

Reference image: Sorceress by YamaOrce on Deviantart.com
((Note: She is an elven tiefling, not a drow, see below))

The image actually displays Nathara. It was painted by her then-boyfriend-now-betrothed on their very first anniversary in the outfit in which she surprised him. She was a bit upset back then when he actually started to paint her instead of doing what she had intended to, but by now she is glad he did. No one other than Celindril ever saw her in person wearing that outfit, but the painting as such is commonly known in the Twilight Rose Keep, as are several nude paintings of her.

At first she was embarrassed, but by now she likes them and will be damned if she ever feels ashamed for her looks again. This first painting is her favourite, even though he took some artistic freedom and left her tiefling hallmarks out. Her eyes have slit pupils, her hands are clawed, hands, lower arms and her spine are covered with black, oily, gleaming scales and she has tiny horns on her forehead, which gleam similarly to the scales. Her hair is white, because she grew up in world half ethereal, half in snow clad mountains. In that regard she is more elf than anything else, her hair adapts to her environment and the demonic trait only adds additional polarization. And thus it is a deadly, cold and unforgiving white.

She does not try to hide her demonic trait, but rather plays on it. She usually wears a long dark crimson cloak, a simple black cloth with crimson frames as tunic, elven chain shirt beneath it, which is framed and supported with particularly edgy plates, black leather pants and lightly armoured and decorated leather boots. The longsword she carries is shorter and more massive than a typical elven sword, with unusually swung edges to raise a "demonic" impression without sacrificing usability. On her weapon hand she wears a lightly armoured glove which lets her claw tips peek out. The off hand, which she uses for spells, is unarmoured.

3. Where is your character from? Golarion’s history and geography is very detailed. Make good use of that.
She is was born in a Varisian forest, close to the borders to Belzken, but has grown up in the Twilight Rose Keep, high up in the Kondar Mountains. The Twilight Rose Keep can only be reached on arcane paths by casters who know the secret or those in their company. It's a center of the most delicate arcane studies of elves, a keep where their secrets are held and a reserve and academy for times of war.

Her mother is held a prisoner there for the atrocities she commited - she is a redeemed demon priestess and even if she was allowed to leave she prefers to live her live in the seclusion of the keep.

4. Why does your character have the class, feats, weapon, etc. that they do? Where and how did they learn to fight? What made them take up this path?
All from the Twilight Rose Keep. She proved talent and the young girl which was born tainted and in need of guidance but herself as innocent as it gets. Many teachers took interest in her particular case. To channel her inborn rage, to give her a means to express herself through art, motion and magic alike, the path of a spelldancer came natural to her. It's more art than a combat form to her, a form of art that allows her to use her demon rage without surrendering to it.

5. Is your character religious? If so, who do they worship and why?
Her whole life story is about the redemption of her mother, being born in the deepest and dark of sins, and urges and temptations with which that leaves her. And yet she was raised to be a compassionate, loving woman who cares about others more than herself. She reveres Sarenrae and prays to reflect on her actions almost daily before she goes to sleep.

6. What is your character’s reason to get involved with Irrisen? It can be something as simple as hating tyranny, but something more detailed will certainly help your chances.
Nathara's reason to explore the world is that she realizes how little she knows about it, since she grew up in a secluded fortress, particularly in comparison to her betrothed. On the other hand her art as a spelldancer makes her a capable warrior when it needs be. She must prove her ability, prove that she is above the temptations of evil, perfection her own art and earn her place in the world and amongst the elves as a spelldancer, to make up for the sins of her parents.

She will jump at the chance to do all that. Apart from that she has an unhealthy lack of fear and naive, romantic ideas about heroism, due to her sheltered and secluded upbringing.

Additionally she grew up in a hidden fortress in the Kodar Mountains from where many scouting missions of the Order of the White Rose to Irrisen started and watching over Irrisen was an important facet of every day life.

Teeth
Nathara's teeth are sharp and pointy. While her jaw and the position of her teeth make them useless as a weapon, she is unable to effectively chew foot, but very adapt in tearing flesh. She likes raw meat and needs it from time to time. Raw vegetables hardly sustain her.

Ring
Nathara always wears her engagement ring and often plays with. Usually she stares dreamily into the void doing so. It's a silver ring with a tiny, polished obsidian and a quartz crystal set into it.

Looks
From the distance she might be taken for a drow, but close up her tiefling heritage can hardly be mistaken. She is way too tall for a drow and while her facial features are elven, she is relatively powerful, curvy and voluptuous for even a normal elf, whereas drow are usually more graceful, delicate and wiry.

Language
Despite her teeth and her somewhat longer tongue she has a pleasant voice and speaks elven as elegant as any elf of 138 years. When she speaks Taldan she does so with a slight melodic accent, she could suppress it, but she does not want to. As most elves she is fond of double meanings in her statements.

Relationships
Nathara is engaged and not interesting in any other relation. Atypical for an elf is that that even includes one night stands, which don't really count as infidelity by elven standards. Even if it weren't so she would only consider elves as mates and is repulsed by approaches from non-elves, whereas sexual advances from elves (regardless of man or woman) are usually taken as compliment and kindly declined. However, she likes compliments regarding her appearance, even crude ones, and usually takes them as just that, not as an advance towards her.

Dancing
She likes to dance, and she likes it a lot. She will hardly ever decline an invitation to dance and her daily training and spell studies includes a workout, which begins reminding of artistic gymnastics but transforms into a passionate dance. Her abyssal rage often becomes apparent in her performance. She does not only interested elven dances, she is a also interested in formal Taldan court dances and Chelish ballet.

Money
She is notoriously unable to tell what market value an item might have. That has because of her secluded upbringing. She didn't have to trade throughout her life until she reached her one-hundred-thirties.

High up in the Kodar Mountains, between the east and the west Chavali River, near the Varisian border to Irrisen, are four steep white mountains which for a strange symmetry. Between them is a valley, deep and steep between the smooth mountain flanks. That valley is a valley of mist, clouds get caught between and it is eternally filled with mist. Water seems to have a way out of this valley, for its bottom is completely empty and non of the brave Ulffen who ever explored it found anything inside it; if he did indeed find out of the mist that is.

But some elves know the secret of the valley and the spell of the White Rose, for the knightly order of watchers, the White Rose has its fortress there, where Ethereal Plane and Material Plane overlap. There, in the Ethereal, Twilight Rose Keep spreads out, and the four unscalable mountains are indeed its highest towers which reach into the material world. The fabled white horses of the order graze half ethereal grass there that only exists because the deadly cold of the mountains does not reach through the spells. While the light of the twilight plane itself is pale colours like focused northern lights travel between the towers and let the ethereal snow in the air glitter .

Apart from the members of the order, the most powerful wizards and magi of the elves meet there to study and teach in the company of their but apart from those take advantage of their power or hasten them to abandon their art and force them into the life rhythm of men. From there expeditions of the Order reach out into the eternal cold of Irrisen, watching, recording the witches moves, trying to anticipate their steps.

((For more information on the order of the White Rose see the background of Calwen Snowpaw - PDF.))