About Yelena StanescuStatistics:
Female Varisian Witch (Cartomancer) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (Human) Init +2; Senses Perception +1 ------------------------------ DEFENSE ------------------------------ AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+1 armor, +2 dex, +0 shield) HP 7 Fort +1, Ref +2, Will +2 (+1 vs enchantment) (-5 vs emotion effects) ------------------------------ OFFENSE ------------------------------ Speed 30 ft. Melee
Ranged
Traits
Feats
Skills 9/level (2 class, 4 INT, 1 human, 2 background) + 1 FCB
ACP -0 *ACP applies to these skills Languages Common, Draconic, Infernal, Shoanti, Sylvan, Varisian Special Abilities:
------------------------------ SPECIAL ABILITIES ------------------------------ Witch Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Witches are proficient with all simple weapons. They are not proficient with any type of armor or shield. Spells: A witch casts arcane spells drawn from the witch spell list. A witch must choose and prepare her spells ahead of time. Cantrips: Witches can prepare a number of cantrips, or 0-level spells, each day, as noted on Table 2–10 under “Spells per Day.” These spells are cast like any other spell, but they are not expended when cast and may be used again. Hex: Witches learn a number of magic tricks, called hexes, that grant them powers or weaken foes. At 1st level, a witch gains one hex of her choice. She gains an additional hex at 2nd level and for every 2 levels attained after 2nd level, as noted on Table 2–10. A witch cannot select an individual hex more than once. Unless otherwise noted, using a hex is a standard action that does not provoke an attack of opportunity. The save to resist a hex is equal to 10 + 1/2 the witch’s level + the witch’s Intelligence modifier. Available Hexes: Evil Eye, Tongues Patron Spells: At 1st level, when a witch gains her familiar, she must also select a patron. This patron is a vague and mysterious force, granting the witch power for reasons that she might not entirely understand. While these forces need not be named, they typically hold influence over one of the following forces. At 2nd level, and every two levels thereafter, a witch’s patron adds new spells to a witch’s list of spells known. Chosen Patron: Empath - Spirits. You gain the tongues hex at 1st level, but you cannot help but feel the despair, pain, and other negative emotions in those around you, taking a –5 penalty on saving throws against emotion effects. Spell Deck: Each cartomancer carries a special harrow deck that allows her to communicate with her patron. Its ability to hold spells functions identically to the way a witch’s spells are granted by her familiar. Spells:
------------------------------ Spells Prepared ------------------------------ 0th (3/day) Dancing Lights: Creates torches or other lights. Daze: Humanoid creature of 4 HD or less loses next action. Detect Magic: Detects spells and magic items within 60 ft. 1st (2/day)
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Arcane Mark: Inscribes a personal rune on an object or creature (visible or invisible).
1st
Equipment:
Combat Gear: Haramaki: 3gp
Other Gear: Explorer's Outfit - Free
Money 5 GP 3 SP 8 CP
Short Background:
Yelena Stanescu was born on the open road. Her parents, Adrian and Olivia Stanescu, both worked on a Varisian caravan as a carpenter and driver, (respectively). With her parents often busy, Yelena spent most of her time with her grandmother Tereza. Tereza was the caravan’s fortune-teller, and together they spent hours practicing readings and studying the many mysteries of the Harrow.
When Olivia died in an unfortunate accident, Adrian decided to settle down in Korvosa rather than stay with the caravan that reminded him of his loss. At first Yelena chose to continue traveling with her grandmother. However when Tereza also died, Yelena decided it was time to settle down and cling to the family she had left. Her father, new stepmother Titia, and half-brother Victor all welcomed her with open arms. For years she lived a simple but comfortable life, helping her parents run their small shop during the day while performing readings in the local tavern at night. Then Victor disappeared. At ten years old he’d been trusted to run a quick errand down to the market. He never came back. The guard shrugged their shoulders and said people vanished every day in Korvosa; with no leads there was nothing they could do. As the weeks passed Yelena frantically performed reading after reading in the hopes of learning where her brother had gone. While she received no concrete answers, the cards reassured her that Victor was still alive. The latest rumors on the street have led her to Gaedren Lamm. A despicable man known for kidnapping children, there’s a chance Victor is now one of “Lamm’s Lambs.” Unfortunately he’s a difficult man to pin down. Still, Yelena refuses to give up hope. She will find Lamm, and by extension Victor. She’s read it in the cards. Longer Background:
The cards whisper to me. They always have, ever since I was a little girl sitting on my grandmother’s knee. Watching her perform the Choosing and the Spread, precisely laying out every card onto her old harrow mat. There was an art form to it, and I found it beautiful.
My father did not hear the whispers. Oh, he respected the power of the Harrow, as every good Varisian man should. (Particularly when one’s own mother is the fortune-teller.) But the cards never spoke to him. Nor did they speak to my mother, a stern-faced woman with a will of steel. Only my grandmother truly understood, and did her best to help me interpret the whispers. To see them as a gift, rather than a curse. (”What’s this card mean?” “The Mountain Man. A force you cannot control, cannot stop. Be careful, child. When giants walk through the world, those of us who are smaller must move out of the way...or be crushed.”) I remember the cards warning me of my mother’s death. But, as is common with such a delicate form of divination, they did not do so clearly enough for me to properly interpret the signs. Or perhaps I am reading too much into a childhood memory, and they never spoke to me on the matter at all. I do not know. That is one of many mysteries the cards have never answered. (”Ooh, I know this one! It’s the Big Sky. Right?” “Right you are, my darling. A time of momentous change. A symbol of casting off old shackles and being reborn into a new way of life.”) My father was never the same after that. He tried, do not get me wrong, but my mother’s death broke him. There is something in us Varisians that craves the horizon, the clear night sky that city folk can never properly see. After she died that part of him was lost. He began to dream of settling down, making steadfast friends, having a home that did not move. No one was surprised when he announced his decision to leave the caravan. Why Korvosa? I doubt even he knows. Perhaps it was simply the closest city at the time he decided he could take no more. At the venerable age of ten I was allowed to make my choice. To stay with him, or to leave with my grandmother. I love my father. But he never heard the whispers. He could not explain to me what they meant. So I gave him a hug goodbye and set out again for the open road. (”That man looks funny!” “Perhaps, but you should not laugh. The Hidden Truth is a good omen when properly aligned. However, see how he points at the book? You will never find your truth unless you seek it.”) I missed my parents. Of course I did. My mother, taken from me too young by an accident. My father, lost to me amid the hustle and bustle of city life. (As well as, eventually, a new wife. A new family.) Nevertheless I was happy, for my grandmother also heard the whispers. She understood them. She taught me how to look inside myself for the answers the Harrow offered. When I was wrong, (and I often was), it was not the fault of the cards. They did their best. It was simply that my fragile human mind could not always understand them properly. But as I grew, I learned how to open myself to the Truths they represented. (”I don’t like this card Bună…” “Understandably. The Empty Throne is not a card to be liked. A card of grief, that one. But there is hope nonetheless. See how the ghost reaches for him? Those who leave us are never truly gone, not as long as we still remember them. We must honor their memories. If we reach out to them, they can reach us in return.”) My grandmother’s death was even harder on me than my mother’s had been. No freak accident, this. No sudden snatching. Only months and months of slowly declining health. Pneumonia, the caravan’s doctor said. Something a younger woman might have overcome, but deadly for the old. My grandmother’s coughing increased in frequency and severity with every passing day, until she could do little more than lay on her cot and gasp for breath. One day she reached out with what seemed to be a herculean effort and gently tapped my chest. ”Trust the cards,” she said, “but trust this more.” The next day she was gone. (”Ugh, is she eating that eye?!” “That would be wasteful, and the Mute Hag is never wasteful. She holds her secrets close to her chest, or to her mouth in this case, but she does not destroy them. That does not mean she is to be trusted, particularly when properly aligned. Her secrets are treacherous. They can destroy the unwary. Be very careful child, when the Hag comes calling.”) I returned to Korvosa after my grandmother’s death. My father deserved to know, of course, and selfishly I also wished to cling to the only family I had left. He welcomed me into his new home. My stepmother was kind. I had heard stories of wicked stepmothers, those who hated the reminders that their husband had once had a life before them, but she was not one of those. She felt for my sorrow and wished to ease it in whatever manner she could. She may not have been my mother, but she loved me as if I were her daughter in truth. My little half-brother welcomed me also. He adored having a big sister to show him around, and I adored him in turn. Until he disappeared. The guard were no help. Too many problems those days for them to care about one child lost in the Midland. We searched tirelessly for him, but Korvosa was far larger than a caravan. So many small nooks and crannies where one even smaller boy could disappear. No one had seen anything. No one had heard anything. Victor had simply vanished, and no one could tell us where. As the days passed, then the weeks, I could see my father and stepmother losing hope. They came to accept his death, as much as one could ever accept losing a child. I did not. (”What about this one, Bună?” “The Survivor, child. See how it fits into the spread? It represents finding something or someone thought lost forever. There he sits, battered and wounded but still alive. A hopeful card, when properly aligned.”) Over and over I performed the readings, and over and over the Survivor stared back at me. My father’s heart was too broken to trust the Harrow while my stepmother had never believed in the cards to begin with, but I knew the truth. Victor still lived. As I continued searching the streets I began to hear rumors of "Lamm's Lambs". Apparently a local crime lord was known for abducting children and using them as disposable agents. Whether Victor was among them I did not know, but it was the closest thing to a lead I had. I trusted the cards. But above all else I trusted my heart, and my heart told me that wherever I found Gaedren Lamm I would find Victor too. (”Is it time to leave?” ”Soon, child. Soon.”) |
