Siv :: (Read-Only) - Myth-Weavers

Character Name		Player		Alignment	Current XP	Next Level XP	XP Change
Class		Race		Campaign		Deity	XP Speed(S/M/F)
Level	Size	Age	Gender	Height	Weight	Eyes	Hair

Ability	Score	Mod	Temp Score	Temp Mod
STR
DEX
CON
INT
WIS
CHA

Hero Points

Caster Level

Touch			Flat-footed
CMD			FCMD

	Total		Dex		Misc
INIT		=		+


Speed	Armor Type

	Light Load
	Med Load
	Max Load
	Over Head
	Off Ground
	Push/ Drag

FORTITUDE

REFLEX

WILL

	Total Attack Bonus		Base Attack Bonus		Str Mod		Size Mod		Misc Mod		Temp Mod
MELEE		=		+		+		+		+
CMB		=		+		+		+		+
RANGED		=		+		+		+		+
	Total Attack Bonus		Base Attack Bonus		Dex Mod		Size Mod		Misc Mod		Temp Mod

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Armor/Protective Item	Worn	Type	AC Bonus	Check Pen	Max Dex

Special Properties			Weight	Spell Fail	Speed

Shield/Protective Item	Worn	Type	AC Bonus	Check Pen	Max Dex

Special Properties			Weight	Spell Fail	Speed

Spell Saves
Save DC	LEVEL	Spells /Day	Bonus Spells
	0		0
	1st
	2nd
	3rd
	4th
	5th
	6th
	7th
	8th
	9th

Spells & Powers

Number of Spells/Powers Known (Bards, Sorcerers, Psions & Psi Warriors)
0	1st	2nd	3rd	4th
5th	6th	7th	8th	9th

Spell/Power Name	# Cast /Mem

Spell/Power Name	# Cast /Mem

Psionics
Manifester Level			Key Ability

Base	Bonus	Max	Current

Currency

3sh
18d

Languages

Description

Tangled raven hair dominates Siv's appearance, bone beads, dyed leather strips, and feathers accentuate the dark tresses and serve, somewhat, to contain their disarray. Tattered and threadbare clothing along with dirty smudges on her face, soot or dirt, indicate a distinct apathy toward fashion or appearance. Her dark linen skirt is tattered along the hem and her bleached muslin camise seems to be a couple sizes too large. Dyed leather strips serve as sleeve garters, holding the stained and dyed cuffs off of her hands and a dark bodice confines the additional material and gives form to an otherwise shapeless garment. Bone beads and feathers decorate the leather strips and laces of the outfit. A similarly decorated staff is often close at hand, it's dark wood worn from years of use. Bright, almost feverish dark brown eyes take in the world around her, and Siv always wears a smile, almost a maniacal grin.

Personality

Mildly put, eccentric would be the most appropriate description of Siv. Prone to arguments with herself, forgetfulness, a near complete lack of regard for social convention, and a habit of speaking in meter and rhyme, Siv is definitely eccentric.

Character Traits

Reactionary - +2 initiative
Carefully Hidden - +1 will, +2 vs divination

Character Flaws

Contacts / Friends

Stoja (Green Hag Witch 10)
Thea (Green Hag Oracle 10)
Veca (Green Hag Cleric of Lamashtu 10)
Saul, Weasel Familiar

Enemies

Statistic Block
[URL=http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=336024][B][SIZE=+1]Siv[/SIZE][/B][/URL] Female CN Human Witch, [B]Level[/B] 3, [B]Init[/B] +4, [B]HP[/B] / , [B]Speed[/B] [B]AC[/B] 12, [B]Touch[/B] 12, [B]Flat-footed[/B] 10, [B]Fort[/B] +2, [B]Ref[/B] +5, [B]Will[/B] +4, [B]Base Attack Bonus[/B] 1 [B] Dagger [/B] +1 (1d4, 19-20/x2) [B] Quarterstaff [/B] +1 (1d6, x2) [B] Sling [/B] +3 (1d4, x2) (+2 Dex) [B]Abilities[/B] Str 10, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 18, Wis 13, Cha 10 [B]Condition[/B] None
Condition and Effects	Additional Information

Lvl 1: Bonus SP
Lvl 1: Hex - Misfortune
Lvl 1: Feat - Extra Hex - Cackle
Lvl 1: Bonus Feat - Extra Hex - Cauldron
Lvl 2: Bonus SP
Lvl 2: Hex - Healing 
Lvl 3: Feat - Extra Hex - Slumber


Siv's patron is one of Lamashtu's emissaries, the Yethazmari
Appearing as an enormous jackal, standing 14 foot tall at the shoulder, with smoking eye sockets, black leathery wings and a snake for a tail, the herald of Lamashtu brings terror and bloodshed. In its wake, spawn of horrific and brutal trysts rise up to cause madness anew

Saul is possessed by one of Yethazmari's minions as part of the bonding ritual. While Siv is neutral, Saul is Neutral/Evil. Siv can't really grasp the concepts of good and evil.

Born to poor dyers in a small village, Siv's parents died to plague when she was but 2 years old. Her older sister, Melody, cared for young Siv though she herself was only 8 at the time. Subsisting on whatever they could find the pair survived, living in their parent's plague-ridden house for months.

Once the horror of the plague had past, the village council decided to remove the afflicted buildings, including the dyer's shop. That night flames consumed a dozen of the wood-frame structures in the small village, a grim reminder of all the lives that had been lost to the plague. Melody and Siv fled the burning structure, shunned by all that saw them for Melody carried on her the mark of the plague. They wandered from shelter to shelter, only to be driven away by people who feared having an afflicted individual nearby.

Melody began wearing a shawl and veil to cover the boils and black web-like lines caused by the plague, but the two moved constantly, afraid to remain anywhere too long. Melody grew weaker by the day, but more determined to care for her small sister.

A wandering bard discovered the pair huddled in his rented stable one evening and, enamored with Melody, took the young girls with him. Alas, it was not to last. Melody succumbed to the plague one night not long after leaving the village. Although he cared not for Siv, the bard, fevered by the plague he unwittingly contracted from Melody, permitted the child to remain nearby. Too weak to move from his roadside camp, too week to even remove Melody's corpse from the tent, the bard sickened and died.

Siv remained in the camp, sleeping in her tent, drinking from the small stream nearby, keeping the small fire fed as she had been taught, and eating the bard's trail rations when hunger encroached. The bard had warned her to not bother him while he slept, and she knew that her sister was tired as well.

A group of Sarenrae pilgrims discovered the toddler on the side of the road, alone, near the camp. Siv was playing building house for her doll, a ratty affair stuffed with sedge and with a face drawn in charcoal. Meticulously stacking the stones of the house, she did not hear the pilgrims approach.

"What are you doing out here by yourself, little girl?" asked one of the pilgrims, a kind-faced matron.

"Building a house that won't burn for Edith" answered the now 3-year old Siv.

"Where is your mommy?" asked the matron, "Is she in your camp?"

"No, Melody and he are in camp. They are sleeping."

The matron looked at the little girl, confused. It was well into the afternoon, it would be scorching inside a tent.

"Kyle, go see if you can wake up who ever is in the tent," ordered the matron. A skinny half-elf ran back to the camp. Even from a distance you could see him blanch and he ran back as quickly as his legs could carry him.

"Two people in the tent, a man and a girl. They are dead, and have been for a while now," he reported, panting, "It was the plague."

The matron paled and looked down at Siv. Crouching down beside Siv, the matron put a hand on her shoulder.

"They aren't waking up, are they," Siv said, more statement than question.

"No, dear, they aren't. Come with me, I'll take you someplace you will be safe."

"Ok," Siv responded, climbing to her feet, leaving her doll in the stone house, more cairn than structure. "Bye, Melody."

The small group burnt the camp before continuing on their way. Siv was delivered to an orphanage operated by followers of Sarenrae by the pilgrims. There she stayed for 9 years, her hyperactivity and short attention span hindering her ability to learn much of the doctrine that the priests and followers of Sarenrae attempted to instill in their charges.

The only things that would grab Siv's attention were music and poetry. These topics she latched onto with a vengeance, driving the poor bard to distraction with her unending questions.

As she became a young woman, Siv began to experience visions and nightmares. She became terrified of sleeping, remaining awake for days on end before exhaustion took it's toll and sent her crashing into unconsciousness. The nightmares were always there, waiting, whispering in the dark. Unable to cope completely, Siv's mind fractured. She began speaking to herself and others in rhyme and was rarely able to carry any sort of coherent conversation with most people. Her attention span was gone completely and she would bounce between activities randomly. She would speak to non-existent individuals in strange languages and took to 'carrying' around a pet frog on her shoulder. Of course the frog was invisible to everyone else and liked to run off. The problems all came to a head one winter morning.

It had snowed the night before, laying a pristine blanket of white on the ground. Unable to sleep, Siv ventured out early and began building a Snow Beast. Two boys, about her age, followed 'Crazy Siv' out into the yard and watched her. As she finished putting the finishing touches on the Snow Beast, one of the boys, a sandy-haired bully named Stil, grabbed a piece of wood from the woodpile and dashed out into the yard. With one mighty swing he broke the head off the Snow Beast. Siv shrieked in agony and collapsed on the beast, sobbing.
"You killed him, you killed him, you monstrous beast!"
Stil laughed at her, nearly doubling up with mirth. Siv turned to stare at him, her gaze shifting from him and fixating on the club that had fallen from his grasp. She stood up and Stil started back toward his friend, chuckling as he pushed roughly past her.

Recovering from the push, Siv walks over and picks up the club, her fingers tracing the compressed snow on the point of impact. She trudges back toward the entrance, engrossed by the makeshift weapon. Stil and his companion enter the orphanage, laughing together as they walk down the hall towards the commissary. It was there, waiting in the growing line for breakfast, that Siv found him, his back to her. Without a word Siv strode up to him and hit him in the back of the head with all her might. Taken completely by surprise, Still dropped like a sack of potatoes. Siv struck him, again and again, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"You killed him, you killed him, vile tyrant!", Siv's strikes accent her litany. As suddenly as her attack started, it stops. She looks down on her victim, club falling from numb fingers.
"Now is your time to lie Stil, silent." she completes quietly. She backs against the cold, damp stone and slides down, hugging her knees and staring at Stil's corpse.

The priests, summoned by one of the more quick and level-headed of the children, found her there moments later. The headmaster took her to the top room in the orphanage, usually used for storage, and locked her in there until they could decide what to do with her. Unable to handle 'Crazy Siv' and afraid of the impact keeping her around would have on the other children, the Headmaster contacted the head of the D'Taura Asylum and committed Siv to their care.

In the asylum Siv suffered greatly at the hands of her caretakers. Viewing their charges a little more than targets for their arcane experiments, the mentalists operating the academy had less compassion for their sentient prisoners than for the stray animals that wandered the streets. Torture, mental and physical, was the norm as the mentalists probed ever deeper into the limits of both their craft and their subjects.

Years passed as Siv endured, unable to comprehend fully the situation. Then the dreams began. Visions of freedom, control, and dominance over her captors filtered into Siv's mind, finding cracks in the wall her subconscious had built itself. Slowly she became more aware of her situation, and that awareness fueled a desire to escape.

The years of perceived acquiescence paid off. The wing containing Siv's cell was the least secure, used to hold the broken and pliable subjects. Her cell was secured by a string holding the door shut. The voice from her dreams filled her mind one night as the rain beat down outside. Escape, it prompted. Not the first time this had happened, but now Siv was ready, and she was willing. Escaping her cell was no problem, and once out the voice in her head directed her to a large east-facing window. The only guard on the level was sound asleep in his chair, so working quietly Siv opened the large window to find an ivy-covered trellis. Though she wore only a shift, Siv quickly climbed down the trellis, ignoring the cuts and scrapes the ivy gave.

A flash of lightning illuminated the immediate area. There, near the edge of the forest, stood a figure, beckoning.

"Come" whispered the voice in her head, and Siv found herself obeying automatically.

As Siv drew closer, the figure gained more detail. An old crone, the epitome of the classical harridan cackled in the driving rain.

"Come" she commanded aloud. Soaked and shivering, Siv complied, following the hag as she headed into the woods.

The hag did not live alone. She was part of a coven, and it was with the aid of her sisters that she was able to discern the source of Siv's mental state, the disruption that attracted them to the tortured girl. A devil, summoned nearby while Siv was in the orphanage, had found a partial escape from it's bonds on the material plane and formed a link with her young mind. Once banished back to the hells, this devil maintained it's tenuous link with Siv, Together the hags devised a solution for the tortured girl. By teaching her some of their secrets, the hags enabled Siv, through a ritual, to transfer the link within her mind to a creature bonded to her. They neglected to tell Siv of the nature of her mental intruder, only that by forming a special bond with a creature her mind would be freed and opened to new power.

Siv underwent the ceremony, bonding to her a weasel named Saul. The coven taught Siv how to utilize the power of her new link over the course of the next two years. Though her mind was still fractured, Siv learned how to function mostly normally around people. On Siv's 18th birthday, though she was unaware of exactly what the day was, the hags informed her that she must leave them and find her own path with the skills they had taught her. After gifting her some necessary equipment, the trio of hags completed a powerful and unusual spell and they and their camp vanished without a trace.