Nelianne Sundrose
Once a mage of ancient Amastacia, Nel gambled all she had in defense of her home and people.
Now, she wanders Arethil, belonging to no place or time.
Appearance
To most people, Nel is a pale woman of average height, lightly muscled as if from regular physical activity, with black hair that she leaves either hanging at her shoulders or pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes are brown with flecks of dark crimson. She dons the robes of a traveler. She has no weapons or armor visible, but carries the gentle, unspoken confidence of someone accustomed to defending herself with magic.
Such is the glamour she weaves around herself to hide her true nature from others.
Her real appearance is that of a corpse--skin stretched too tight over her skinny frame, bits of bone peeking through where her flesh has broken. Her glowing crimson eyes give away her state of undeath. Nel is missing her lower jaw and tongue, and were she to draw back her robes, one would find a gaping hole below her ribs, where some weapon or spell punched into her stomach and exited through her back, narrowly missing her spine.
Beneath her robes, Nel wears a necklace of rubies and glass orbs threaded through a silver chain, strangely untarnished by the passage of time. This magical relic once brimmed with the collected vitality of a thousand lives, but over the centuries this power has faded to nearly nothing. These days it might be able to house the soul of one or two people at most, a reserve of magical energy should the bearer need it.
Such is the glamour she weaves around herself to hide her true nature from others.
Her real appearance is that of a corpse--skin stretched too tight over her skinny frame, bits of bone peeking through where her flesh has broken. Her glowing crimson eyes give away her state of undeath. Nel is missing her lower jaw and tongue, and were she to draw back her robes, one would find a gaping hole below her ribs, where some weapon or spell punched into her stomach and exited through her back, narrowly missing her spine.
Beneath her robes, Nel wears a necklace of rubies and glass orbs threaded through a silver chain, strangely untarnished by the passage of time. This magical relic once brimmed with the collected vitality of a thousand lives, but over the centuries this power has faded to nearly nothing. These days it might be able to house the soul of one or two people at most, a reserve of magical energy should the bearer need it.
Skills and Abilities
Nel trained as a battlemage of Amastacia and is highly knowledgeable in the spell schools her old kingdom was famed for.
Fleshcraft & Boneweaving
Manipulation of the physical body. Nel mainly uses the former to repair herself after injury. As an undead, she is unable to heal naturally and requires ‘material’ to stitch herself back together. She tries to limit her sources to proven criminals or wild beasts, preferably freshly defeated. Old bodies are too poor quality for this magic. Her missing jaw and stomach are ancient wounds from before her awakening and do not respond to attempts to attach new flesh.
She can also wield these talents to heal others, should they be receptive to their gruesome nature.
Boneweaving enables the forging of tools and weapons from bone, as well as the creation of bone golems, again using material obtained from any available creature, and again the fresher the better.
Bonewoven implements have the expected sturdiness of the type of bone they were wrought from, but can be further magically enhanced to improve their durability.
Bone golems obey simple commands and serve multiple purposes, from surveillance to mundane chores to combat. Nel can send these golems afield, though their effectiveness is diminished the further they stray from her, with a few hundred feet the maximum range.
Fleshcraft and boneweaving combined make for a terrifying combination in battle, allowing the practitioner to literally tear a foe’s limb from their body, though their effective range is extremely short, requiring one to be within 1-2 inches of their target. Cloth and armor do not protect from this magic, though it can be stopped by wards or other magical protections.
Psionics
Nel weaves her glamour through subtle deceit, implanting the image of her human self into the minds of others. Lacking her lower jaw and tongue, Nel communicates through telepathy, utilizing further trickery to project into others’ minds the appearance of her speaking normally.
Telekinesis allows her to lift and throw objects as large and heavy as an adult human male. The swing of a blade can be shoved to the side; projectiles can be forced off course.
Decay
Nel can fling bolts and conjure blasts of a dark, writhing energy that quickly decays whatever it touches. Vegetation rots and crumbles; flesh suffers a swift necrosis; even buildings of stone and brick weaken as if eroded over centuries.
Fleshcraft & Boneweaving
Manipulation of the physical body. Nel mainly uses the former to repair herself after injury. As an undead, she is unable to heal naturally and requires ‘material’ to stitch herself back together. She tries to limit her sources to proven criminals or wild beasts, preferably freshly defeated. Old bodies are too poor quality for this magic. Her missing jaw and stomach are ancient wounds from before her awakening and do not respond to attempts to attach new flesh.
She can also wield these talents to heal others, should they be receptive to their gruesome nature.
Boneweaving enables the forging of tools and weapons from bone, as well as the creation of bone golems, again using material obtained from any available creature, and again the fresher the better.
Bonewoven implements have the expected sturdiness of the type of bone they were wrought from, but can be further magically enhanced to improve their durability.
Bone golems obey simple commands and serve multiple purposes, from surveillance to mundane chores to combat. Nel can send these golems afield, though their effectiveness is diminished the further they stray from her, with a few hundred feet the maximum range.
Fleshcraft and boneweaving combined make for a terrifying combination in battle, allowing the practitioner to literally tear a foe’s limb from their body, though their effective range is extremely short, requiring one to be within 1-2 inches of their target. Cloth and armor do not protect from this magic, though it can be stopped by wards or other magical protections.
Psionics
Nel weaves her glamour through subtle deceit, implanting the image of her human self into the minds of others. Lacking her lower jaw and tongue, Nel communicates through telepathy, utilizing further trickery to project into others’ minds the appearance of her speaking normally.
Telekinesis allows her to lift and throw objects as large and heavy as an adult human male. The swing of a blade can be shoved to the side; projectiles can be forced off course.
Decay
Nel can fling bolts and conjure blasts of a dark, writhing energy that quickly decays whatever it touches. Vegetation rots and crumbles; flesh suffers a swift necrosis; even buildings of stone and brick weaken as if eroded over centuries.
Personality
Nel was once a soldier, and a soldier she remains. She takes pride in doing what’s right and honorable. She would rather protect than harm the weak, and has no interest in acts of terror or cruelty. She will use intimidation or force to resolve a situation if challenged, however, and if attacked will hold nothing back in the course of defending herself.
Even in undeath, a part of her still derives satisfaction from aiding the common folk. Nel sometimes takes on jobs to clear a road of highwaymen or mend the broken leg of a farmer’s horse. Good, honest work to help those who need it the most. She receives others’ gratitude awkwardly; they thank her for her deeds, but only she knows the worst of what she’s done.
She misses the camaraderie of her long-gone fellow soldiers, but wonders if she still deserves companionship in her current state.
Even in undeath, a part of her still derives satisfaction from aiding the common folk. Nel sometimes takes on jobs to clear a road of highwaymen or mend the broken leg of a farmer’s horse. Good, honest work to help those who need it the most. She receives others’ gratitude awkwardly; they thank her for her deeds, but only she knows the worst of what she’s done.
She misses the camaraderie of her long-gone fellow soldiers, but wonders if she still deserves companionship in her current state.
Biography & Lore
Thousands of years ago, the Seret Mountains of west Liadain were home to the city-state of Amastacia. This ancient civilization was famed for their mastery over soulcraft, boneweaving, and fleshshaping, arcane arts that were ghastly to behold on the battlefield but greatly appreciated by the populace for their applications in the realms of science and health.
Nelianne was born to an ordinary family. Rather than join the medical field as her parents had, she enlisted in Amastacia’s army as a battlemage, sworn to protect her home from all threats. It was a time of peace and prosperity for Amastacia; never did she think she would have to bring her talents to bear against more than bandits and beasts.
Then the neighboring kingdom of Lindelwin declared war, citing Amastacia’s practices as abhorrent and unholy. The two nations fought bitterly. In time, Lindelwin proved their might and tactics to be superior, and pushed Amastacia’s forces back to their inner borders.
Nelianne, stationed at a fort guarding a key mountain pass into the heart of Amastacia, approached her commanding officer with a proposal. In their vault they kept a powerful relic, capable of incredible feats, but at the cost of human life. It was meant to be utilized in a time of great emergency. This was now a worthy emergency. Her commander did not agree, either believing their soldiers capable of yet holding the line, or unwilling to sacrifice his precious subordinates for such a gamble.
When the Lindelese army arrived at their fort and began to break through, Nelianne went against her commander’s orders. She stole into the vault, retrieved the relic, and initiated the ritual to feed its hunger. The vitality of her fellow soldiers drained out of them and flowed into her. By this power, she shattered the limits of her human shell. Thus transformed into a being beyond mortals, a being fueled by the lifeblood of a thousand mortals, Nelianne threw herself at the Lindelese.
She would not remember how the battle ended.
When she next awoke, it was to the curious faces of a group of strangers, peering down into the coffin in which she lay. Around her rose the stone walls of a mausoleum. Whether those who had awakened her were explorers or tomb robbers, she knew not, and cared not. She captured and interrogated them.
This is what she learned: It had been close to two millennia since the walls of Amastacia and Lindelwin stood. These days, those two city-states, like so many others, existed only in stories and scholarly texts. From time to time, academics debated what had caused the downfall of those kingdoms, but would fail to reach a conclusion.
Nel should have died with her people, her comrades, her family, but she survived. A cursed survival, by her own doing. Her own choices.
Bereft of purpose or home, she now wanders the land as an (un)living ghost.
Nelianne was born to an ordinary family. Rather than join the medical field as her parents had, she enlisted in Amastacia’s army as a battlemage, sworn to protect her home from all threats. It was a time of peace and prosperity for Amastacia; never did she think she would have to bring her talents to bear against more than bandits and beasts.
Then the neighboring kingdom of Lindelwin declared war, citing Amastacia’s practices as abhorrent and unholy. The two nations fought bitterly. In time, Lindelwin proved their might and tactics to be superior, and pushed Amastacia’s forces back to their inner borders.
Nelianne, stationed at a fort guarding a key mountain pass into the heart of Amastacia, approached her commanding officer with a proposal. In their vault they kept a powerful relic, capable of incredible feats, but at the cost of human life. It was meant to be utilized in a time of great emergency. This was now a worthy emergency. Her commander did not agree, either believing their soldiers capable of yet holding the line, or unwilling to sacrifice his precious subordinates for such a gamble.
When the Lindelese army arrived at their fort and began to break through, Nelianne went against her commander’s orders. She stole into the vault, retrieved the relic, and initiated the ritual to feed its hunger. The vitality of her fellow soldiers drained out of them and flowed into her. By this power, she shattered the limits of her human shell. Thus transformed into a being beyond mortals, a being fueled by the lifeblood of a thousand mortals, Nelianne threw herself at the Lindelese.
She would not remember how the battle ended.
When she next awoke, it was to the curious faces of a group of strangers, peering down into the coffin in which she lay. Around her rose the stone walls of a mausoleum. Whether those who had awakened her were explorers or tomb robbers, she knew not, and cared not. She captured and interrogated them.
This is what she learned: It had been close to two millennia since the walls of Amastacia and Lindelwin stood. These days, those two city-states, like so many others, existed only in stories and scholarly texts. From time to time, academics debated what had caused the downfall of those kingdoms, but would fail to reach a conclusion.
Nel should have died with her people, her comrades, her family, but she survived. A cursed survival, by her own doing. Her own choices.
Bereft of purpose or home, she now wanders the land as an (un)living ghost.
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