Zlatomíra Havranová's page

Albína is a cruel and vicious old hag even by Irriseni standards. She is also the head of her household—a position from which she suffers no challenge or insult. When Queen Elvanna's machinations began to lead the country down a course that strayed from the path Baba Yaga had set before them, Zlatomíra's parents balked, expressing concern for the outlook of their family's future. Albína responded by attempting to destroy their family to the last man, woman, or child. She was largely successful. She robbed Zlatomíra of her two sisters, brother, and mother; robbed Dalibor (her father) of his wife and all but one of his children.

Dalibor managed only to flee Whitethrone with Zlatomíra in his care, and the road to safety was not weathered easily. It proved to be not only Albína that sought their blood. Those loyal to Elvanna were called to task, and pursued the father and daughter with ruthless vigor. That they managed to make it out of Irrisen at all stands as a worthwhile testament to the formidable powers at Dalibor's command. Though the agents of Whitethrone caught up to he and his daughter on several occasions, each time he visited wintry ruin upon their advance, repelling each attempt at their lives or capture with a furious display of magic that left them reeling or decimated. This lifestyle continued for months, even as they passed through the Realm of the Mammoth Lords.

Providence did not abandon them entirely, however. The more distance they put between themselves and Irrisen, the less frequent and less worthwhile their pursuers became. Eventually, the brigands and mercenaries hired to track them down were little more than common thugs; a far cry from the terrible winter witches Dalibor had bested on their retreat from Irrisen proper. It was not until Brevoy that the attacks ceased entirely. Whether by way of losing interest or lacking the resources to fund such an endeavor so far from their holdings, Dalibor and Zlatomíra could not say. All they know is that they had found some measure of respite from their crazed aunt and the minions that danced to her tune. East of the Icerime Peaks, where the Nomen Hills meet the Finadar Forest, Dalibor began to eke out a simple life for he and his daughter, bringing her up in the traditions that he himself had been raised.

Several tribes of centaur called the region their home, and their notice of Dalibor's intrusion did not go unnoticed. Nor did their taking offense at said intrusion go unpunished. For several years, the creatures sought to forcefully remove the witch and fledgling witch from their lands, but the aged man proved far too formidable, laying waste to the centaurs' numbers with an ease that unnerved them. Eventually, the attacks desisted and the centaurs began suing for peace. Though far from a friendly agreement, the centaurs at least finally acknowledged the need to stop wasting their ranks on an opponent who bore them no real interest. Dalibor and his daughter would finally be left to their own devices.

Unfortunately, and in spite of his great power, Dalibor proved not to be a match for the wasting illness that spilled out from some unknown source in the Finadar Forest. By this time, Zlatomíra was nearly a grown woman, but still too uninitiated to survive on her own. Were he to pass, the centaurs would no doubt renege on their arrangement and visit unspeakable torments on his daughter in retribution. Mastering what remained of his fragile body, he gathered up his daughter and began the trek westward towards Brevoy. While he disliked the notion of exposing her to such walks of civilization where eyes hired by old grudges might be watching, it was the only option available to him besides condemning her to death alone in the wilderness of Iobaria.

Dalibor did not survive the descent from the mountain passes. Zlatomíra was forced to bury him beneath a cairn in a tranquil glade therein before continuing on her own way to Brevoy. By sheer luck and providence, she managed to finally make her way to Restov, her father's intended destination. Heeding his advice to surround herself with allies and protectors, she was inexorably drawn to the flyers announcing the intent to hire expeditions for stabs into The Stolen Lands. Thinking herself a consummate frontierswoman, Zlatomíra signed her way into one of the charters posted in the Swordlord city. With any luck, she will find enough common ground with fellow expedition members to keep Albína's vengeance at bay—that is, if the old crone hadn't lost interest entirely.

Pale blonde curls curls spill down to Zlatomíra's shoulders, narrow braids framing her anxious face, interwoven with azure bands of ribbon. Her eyes are the color of a clear morning sky, and seem perpetually nervous—shifty and wary of her surroundings, whatever they might be. Pale and snow-kissed skin mark her beginnings as a northerner; likely Ulfen given the color of her hair and eyes. Zlatomíra's frame is scrawny and long. The young woman's full height makes her a rival for most men, and a giant to most women. She is cloaked and garbed in a manner that belies her upbringing in a remote wilderness; patchworks of fur and overly stitched clothing that form a poor mockery of a noblewoman's dress. Despite such a presentation, she manages a haughty look, as full of self-importance as any woman of worthwhile title would be famous for.

Zlatomíra's voice is even and frigid, though the intent behind her words are often lacking in restraint or considered words. A dark raven maintains a nearly permanent perch atop her left shoulder—Bohumil, her familiar. With a drab and monotonous voice (think Alan Rickman) full of derision to match that of the witch he is bonded to, the creature often serves to exacerbate social situations. This is doubly so when the bird's capacity for speech unnerves someone.
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Ht: 5'11"
Wt: 120 lbs.
Eyes: Vibrant blue
Hair: Pale blonde, long and loose with several braids
Skin: Pale white
Age: 17 years.

WARY: Though her time spent on the run began when she was but a toddler, Zlatomíra's father Dalibor instilled in the young witch a profound fear of her aunt's retribution in every corner. As a result, she tends to be overly cautious and distressed. This paranoia grows in urgency the more crowded her environs.

COUNTRY BUMPKIN: She seems blissfully unaware of this fact, but she wears very plainly the fact that she was effectively raised by a hermit (even a once-affluent one such as Dalibor was). Her clothing and strange dialect coupled with a predilection towards folkish remedies and superstitions (true or otherwise) mark her apart from those persons at home in more civilized areas.

BARBED TONGUE: Many people are graced with the presence of a mental filter between thought and tongue, knowing when to speak one's mind and when to keep quips or harsh remarks to themselves. Zlatomíra is not one of these people. Her opinion is generally an open book, for good or ill.

ARROGANT She has been trained in what she believes (thanks to her father's tutelage) the most superior art and form of magic to be found in the whole of the world: winter witchcraft. Having been raised by a mostly amoral man under such conditions, Dalibor did almost nothing to instill any sense of humility in his daughter. She has a hard time finding herself wrong in most situations, which grates on the nerves of others quickly.