About Xenarchy MalzashXenarchy Malzash is a character, perhaps even an archetype (in the classic sense, not the Pathfinder mechanic) that I favour and have used several times in different settings and systems. The concept evolves with each iteration, and while no continuity persists between instances of Xenarchy, the complexity of her baseline personality at the start of each incarnation is more developed each time. The first was actually an Unknown Armies character! We've come a long way. Things about this incarnation of Xenarchy: CHARACTER SHEET:
Human sorcerer 2 CN Medium humanoid Init +1; Senses Perception +0 DEFENSE AC 11, touch 11, flat-footed 10 (+1 Dex)
OFFENSE Speed 30 ft.
Bloodline fey STATISTICS Str 8, Dex 12, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 19
EQUIPMENT:
Light Load 26 lbs.; Medium Load 27-53 lbs.; Heavy Load 54-80 lbs.; Lift 160 lbs.; Push/Drag 400 lbs. WORN
Equipped Weight 14 lbs. OTHER GEAR
COINS
Total Weight 24.9 lbs. Total Wealth 170 gp DESCRIPTION:
This woman is 5'8" tall and quite remarkable in appearance. She is very pleasingly curved, definitely quite fit although not very strong. She has pale skin, clearly well looked after and fine, delicate features. Were this all to be said of her, she could be a wondrous beauty by common human standards. However, things are far from right and well with this woman. She bears a pair of horrific scars, slashing down the left side of her face in parallel. One falls directly above her eye and ends near the corner of her mouth. The second lies an inch further left. Her large eyes are rimmed in deep darkness, a disconcerting blend of an overuse of makeup and the shadows of sleeplessness. Weirdly, her irises are either a brilliant violet or emerald green depending on the angle of the light; clearly something is amiss. Her hair is strikingly unusual, pristinely platinum in hue with the very faintest of blue undertone. It is very long, falling unkemptly over her shoulders and down to mid-thigh when she is standing. When her teeth can be seen, it's hard to miss that her canines are sharper than usual for a human. Her clothing is an exquisitely crafted ensemble of form-fitting black leather and lace. It appears to be designed to simultaneously accentuate her dramatic figure and yet keep her entirely concealed. The thing is cut expertly, shaped and combined with flowing cloth to form some bizarre manner of dress that leaves nothing below the neck bare. It ends with a long, lacy skirt banded with leather reaching her light traveling boots. The entirety is brought together with delicate silver embroidery that does nothing to dispel the darkness of the piece and glints like tiny stars against a backdrop of blackest night. A wicked-looking dagger of foreign design sits hooked at her belt.
BACKGROUND:
A girl was born to Rajul parents, a family of decent wealth as her father was a skilled master mason. She was a flighty and troublesome youth, too clever and conniving for her own good yet lacking the sense not to get into trouble. Acknowledging the budding intellect and natural knack for minor magics, her's mother attempted to guide the young girl into pursuit of a career in wizardry. The family could certainly afford the schooling. None of this took very well. While she grasped the concepts of magical theory quickly, she was not a patient youth and frequently skipped her lessons to go and play with friends. The girl was often the centre of attention, a troublemaker and prankster whose particular talents for verbal beguilement easily misdirected blame. Over the years the girl blossomed, growing into a young woman of unearthly beauty. She was the prize all the eligible men of her neighbourhood sought yet she rebuffed them one and all. Even in her developing maturity, she remained a manipulator at heart. At times she was not pleasant and sometimes downright cruel, toying with the emotions of others as she pleased with no thought to the consequences. She knew she was beautiful and intelligent and she used these tools to become a veritable demon, her name cursed in hushed breaths. It was this that became her downfall. It may have been karma or perhaps nothing more than purposeful malevolence, but one more cunning than the girl and more learned in arcane ways noticed her and observed the growing signs of a fey sorcerous heritage. One day she headed to the marketplace to ply her usual trade of self-serving beguilement and deception amongst the locals. She was not seen again. A few days later a white-haired woman stumbled into a nearby town, dressed in naught but bloodstained rags and clutching a crooked dagger. The terror on her face and vicious wounds marring every inch of bare skin kept the fearful onlookers from approaching her. Indeed, those that did approach were driven back when she flashed sparks of magic. Dragging a trail of blood behind her, the woman finally reached the steps of the local temple of Dazhbog and collapsed. The old priest came out and intoned a simple prayer to soothe her wounds. Yet, when he knelt to look at her, he saw something that turned his blood to ice. The priest sputtered curses and wards in equal parts fear and fury. The woman was confused by this outrage and simply fled. Stealing clothing from a line, the woman wrapped herself to hide the scars and set out for another town in search of refuge. She was able to persuade travellers to part with food and water to sustain her on the way with little difficulty. Even so, this lifestyle of begging could not last. She had to find some means of income. As destitute as she was, she still had her ego. Upon reaching Varsov, the next settlement, her desperate need for coin to support herself brought her to present herself as a travelling witch, a mysterious outsider selling folk wisdom and fanciful remedies. Mostly, she sold little more than hopeful lies with a touch of prestidigitation and a healthy dose of placebo. The coin of the easily fooled soon made its way into her purse, and over time her humble appearance was transformed. She remade herself as Xenarchy Malzash, the Witch of Varsov, a dark and mysterious stranger of unknown origin and unknown power. Her new manner of dress covered her from head to toe save her face, always as black as stormclouds at midnight and styled as elaborately as that of the boyars. Breaking free from the timidity weighed upon her by her traumatic past, her deceptions became more bold. Her ego and vanity pushed her to seek greater and greater glory amongst the people of Varsov. She revelled in the fruits of her meddling. As in her youth, she went too far and set loose rumours of supposed power and majesty far in excess of what she truly possessed. This came to an abrupt end when her sorcerous heritage spontaneously became more overt. Whatever ancestry empowered her must have still retained some malevolent whimsy, as the powerful fey blood gifted her with pronounced fangs and an unearthly pallor. While her knowledge of the arcane could easily say these traits reflected the divine pale flesh of the nymph and the sharp teeth of the river naiad, she knew there was only one thing the people of Varsov would think: Vampire. Cunning and conniving, Xenarchy could be called, but she was never wise. She became a recluse, fearful of what the people would think if they saw her. This plan was anything but helpful. Darker rumours about her spread, the rumours growing ever more sinister with each day that she did not show her face. Finally, some foolhardy teenage boys snuck into her house to find out what had become of her, and in her utter folly she faced them with a furious screech and deathly glare. Xenarchy knew what she had done immediately. The boys fled before she could stop and explain. In mere moments the town was in alarm, the priests gathering the people to come with fire and steel. In her vainglory she had built up more reputation than she could manage and now that very reputation told the town she was a dangerous monster. She knew they would descend upon her with terrible force. No words from her lips would dissuade them. Gathering a few important belongings and a satchel of food, the Witch of Varsov left in secrecy and silence. She sought a new life, perhaps somewhere where she had not already stained the populace with her deceptions.
PERSONALITY:
Xenarchy is a sorcerer with great skill in the arts of enchantment and illusion. She is a strong believer in self-determination and self-reliance and while she rarely speaks of it except in trusted company, she despises the hold the gods have over mortality. She is prone to letting her vanity and ego get the better of her at times and sometimes forgets to consider the consequences of her self-aggrandisement. Xenarchy does not consider herself a 'common sorcerer'. She'll more often refer to herself as a witch and despite her spontaneous method of spellcasting, considers the art of magic something that can only be appreciated if it is understood in detail. Even so, she both loves and hates her fey heritage. It is the source of her power and something that makes her feel greater than common folk, yet at the same time it mocks her with its flighty urges and the manifestations it presents upon her form. Her motivation for adventure is made up of many parts. She enjoys being the centre of attention and will soak up praise like a sponge. She also has something of a grudge against divinity and will take eagerly to opportunities to oust evil priests and - hypocritically - others who would raise cults for their own glory. When pushed, she may even admit that she does not like to see people suffer and knows she may have the ability to help.
NOTES:
Xenarchy's self-styled title of 'witch' is in reference to the traditional meaning of the word, of a mysterious and dangerous female spellcaster, rather than the Pathfinder term for the witch class. |
