Post by pastels on Jan 14, 2019 9:05:26 GMT
Biography
Character Name:
Proserpina "Pippa" Fellsong
Proserpina "Pippa" Fellsong
Character Level:
1
1
Race:
Tiefling [Variant: Devil’s Tongue]
Tiefling [Variant: Devil’s Tongue]
Gender:
Female
Female
Alignment:
Chaotic Good
Chaotic Good
Deities:
Milil and Sune. Sometimes Lliira.
Milil and Sune. Sometimes Lliira.
Size:
Medium
Medium
Hair:
Burgundy
Burgundy
Eyes:
All-gold
All-gold
Height:
5’7”
5’7”
Weight:
140 lbs.
140 lbs.
Age:
28
28
Appearance:
Beauty, grace, skill.
These words perfectly encapsulate Proserpina. Even when standing still, she bears the fine profile of a marble statue—a work of art rendered with meticulous detail from head to toe. The tiefling may as well have been sculpted, too; her classic features and hourglass figure fit the ideal of beauty in Chessenta.
That is where the resemblance ends.
A statue, lovingly created as it may be by some passionate artist, is cold, unmoving stone. Devoid of life. Yes, the sun may grace its form with the brightest rays until it is unbearably hot to the touch... Come night the heat escapes like a thief in the shadows, leaving behind the chill of the grave. Proserpina, on the other hand, exudes life in both attitude and appearance. She refined her good looks and creative talent as though it were an art—or a weapon—and dressed in nothing but the latest fashions and the most elegant jewelry. A constant fixture in the open chambers of House Argyros, she was matron, ward, and courtier all in one—and her clothes had to reflect this prestige.
In the past, any and all individuals received by the Lord Argyros were greeted by his “jewel;” a tiefling with luminous magenta skin, whose eyes blazed in bright, churning strips of golden brilliance like the sun at its apex. Gold trinkets linked in alexandrite-flecked chains adorned her curved horns, and her toga shifted and whispered like a dream as she strode with open arms towards the visitors. Her curly hair, as rich and deep as aged wine, swayed in the sea-salt breeze coming in from the white-cliffed bay of Erebos.
When she smiled, resplendent and assured, the light coming in from the open hallways nearly dimmed in comparison.
That was how she started the Game.
HISTORY
Everyone in Erebos knew that Basileus Argyros had three children.
The youngest, Eustakhios, was borne by his wife—a minor noblewoman from Luthcheq, whose ambitions for her son was only matched by her love for the many-headed dragon Tiamat. The boy seemed destined for accomplishment and accolades; even from a young age he possessed the strength of a giant, easily overpowering those in his age group first at the playground, then at the coliseum. Fierce, aggressive, and brutal. He was a warrior through and through. Any father would consider him as their pride and joy—were his father, a seasoned fighter and a soldier widely-considered a terror in the battlefield during his prime, not one of Shala Karanok’s staunchest supporters.
The middle child was Alkandros, whose mother was a wench with whom Basileus carried a brief affair with for a time. He was brought into the fold upon his mother’s death. The polar opposite of his brother, Alkandros was introspective and gentle with his fellows. A favorite pastime of his was stealing away from the manor and spending time with the common folk. It was here that he retained a sense of humility and grounded knowledge of the world—traits that were indispensable to those in privileged positions.
The eldest was an urchin Basileus found in the bowels of Mordulkin, as he was returning home from a border skirmish with Threskel. He gave her the name Proserpina.
Despite their differences, the three grew up in relative peace. Eustakhios was either out of the house or pestering his indulgent mother, Alkandros was holed up with books in rooms where his brother would not think to enter, and Proserpina… Well. She was busy keeping the peace. She had no claim to the bloodline’s riches, unlike the two brothers, so she was unconcerned with matters of inheritance and favoritism. Courtly life fascinated her. Here, the players traded in whispers and smiles. A secret held more weight than a knife. It became a normal sight for visiting courtiers to see her at her adoptive father’s side, scandalous as it may have been. Since she was the only one who seemed to tolerate the rigors of bureaucracy, Basileus began to take her along with him on trips to other cities.
The Game: that was what it was called. In time, the motions became second nature.
This peace would have continued, had Basileus not taken to bed with a mysterious disease. In the span of weeks, his health rapidly declined; the grizzled warrior was whittled down to a frail man, bones poking out from under paper-thin, mottled skin. The healers had no clue on the cause. Some went so far as to say it was the natural passage of time.
Proserpina stayed by his side the entire time. As his sickness matured, he handed over more and more of his courtly duties to her. Her worry over her father’s condition was challenged by a growing frustration with Lady Argyros—she maintained her control over the House and its minute proceedings, but she could feel the woman chipping at her influence, watching for cracks. The Lady’s increasing number of visits to the Temple of Tiamat and her growing dissent against Proserpina’s presence was starting to alarm, too.
It all came to a head when the patriarch, after holding on for far longer than expected, exhaled his last breath. It was a quiet occasion, without fanfare or tears. It happened exactly when none of the siblings were by his side; the room was dark and sullen after a day of constant visitation. Alkandros was busy relighting the candles around the bed, and Proserpina was untying the curtains to keep out the cold night wind. Eustakhios, despite his dogged persistence in hovering around their father during the past few days, had left to escort the last well-wishers out.
Without Alkandros, Proserpina would have stayed there, rooted in shock. She would have overseen their father’s funeral. She would have seen his last wishes and his will carried out.
If she did any of those, she would have been dead.
Ironically, despite being the one who spent the most time among liars and backstabbers, she had been blind to a conspiracy that was happening right under their noses. It was Alkandros who pieced together the clues while she was busy running the House and tending to their father. Her brother, always the quiet one, surprised her with a flurry of information and action. Within minutes, he had convinced her of the plot their stepmother carried out—a plot to gain control of the House Argyros, to add to Tchazzar’s supporters and further cement his hold on Erebos. He spoke of cults, and a final reckoning amongst the followers of Tiamat… and that they were to be scapegoats for what happened to Basileus, if they did not make haste. Eustakhios must be involved; the boy had always followed his mother’s orders. It was too much confusion for her grief-addled heart.
In the end, they stole away into the night like thieves, leaving behind all that they had ever known for a chance to survive.
The youngest, Eustakhios, was borne by his wife—a minor noblewoman from Luthcheq, whose ambitions for her son was only matched by her love for the many-headed dragon Tiamat. The boy seemed destined for accomplishment and accolades; even from a young age he possessed the strength of a giant, easily overpowering those in his age group first at the playground, then at the coliseum. Fierce, aggressive, and brutal. He was a warrior through and through. Any father would consider him as their pride and joy—were his father, a seasoned fighter and a soldier widely-considered a terror in the battlefield during his prime, not one of Shala Karanok’s staunchest supporters.
The middle child was Alkandros, whose mother was a wench with whom Basileus carried a brief affair with for a time. He was brought into the fold upon his mother’s death. The polar opposite of his brother, Alkandros was introspective and gentle with his fellows. A favorite pastime of his was stealing away from the manor and spending time with the common folk. It was here that he retained a sense of humility and grounded knowledge of the world—traits that were indispensable to those in privileged positions.
The eldest was an urchin Basileus found in the bowels of Mordulkin, as he was returning home from a border skirmish with Threskel. He gave her the name Proserpina.
Despite their differences, the three grew up in relative peace. Eustakhios was either out of the house or pestering his indulgent mother, Alkandros was holed up with books in rooms where his brother would not think to enter, and Proserpina… Well. She was busy keeping the peace. She had no claim to the bloodline’s riches, unlike the two brothers, so she was unconcerned with matters of inheritance and favoritism. Courtly life fascinated her. Here, the players traded in whispers and smiles. A secret held more weight than a knife. It became a normal sight for visiting courtiers to see her at her adoptive father’s side, scandalous as it may have been. Since she was the only one who seemed to tolerate the rigors of bureaucracy, Basileus began to take her along with him on trips to other cities.
The Game: that was what it was called. In time, the motions became second nature.
This peace would have continued, had Basileus not taken to bed with a mysterious disease. In the span of weeks, his health rapidly declined; the grizzled warrior was whittled down to a frail man, bones poking out from under paper-thin, mottled skin. The healers had no clue on the cause. Some went so far as to say it was the natural passage of time.
Proserpina stayed by his side the entire time. As his sickness matured, he handed over more and more of his courtly duties to her. Her worry over her father’s condition was challenged by a growing frustration with Lady Argyros—she maintained her control over the House and its minute proceedings, but she could feel the woman chipping at her influence, watching for cracks. The Lady’s increasing number of visits to the Temple of Tiamat and her growing dissent against Proserpina’s presence was starting to alarm, too.
It all came to a head when the patriarch, after holding on for far longer than expected, exhaled his last breath. It was a quiet occasion, without fanfare or tears. It happened exactly when none of the siblings were by his side; the room was dark and sullen after a day of constant visitation. Alkandros was busy relighting the candles around the bed, and Proserpina was untying the curtains to keep out the cold night wind. Eustakhios, despite his dogged persistence in hovering around their father during the past few days, had left to escort the last well-wishers out.
Without Alkandros, Proserpina would have stayed there, rooted in shock. She would have overseen their father’s funeral. She would have seen his last wishes and his will carried out.
If she did any of those, she would have been dead.
Ironically, despite being the one who spent the most time among liars and backstabbers, she had been blind to a conspiracy that was happening right under their noses. It was Alkandros who pieced together the clues while she was busy running the House and tending to their father. Her brother, always the quiet one, surprised her with a flurry of information and action. Within minutes, he had convinced her of the plot their stepmother carried out—a plot to gain control of the House Argyros, to add to Tchazzar’s supporters and further cement his hold on Erebos. He spoke of cults, and a final reckoning amongst the followers of Tiamat… and that they were to be scapegoats for what happened to Basileus, if they did not make haste. Eustakhios must be involved; the boy had always followed his mother’s orders. It was too much confusion for her grief-addled heart.
In the end, they stole away into the night like thieves, leaving behind all that they had ever known for a chance to survive.
PERSONALITY
True to what one would expect from a court functionary, Proserpina has a ready smile and an engaging demeanor. Although courtiers are not well-known for making the most moral decisions, they strive to follow the rules of the ever-changing Game. Proserpina is no exception; she can and will make some pretty threats or underhanded schemes, but actions veering close to actual villainy are viewed as bad form.
Her origins may have made her compassionate towards the less fortunate, but it has also led her to deeply value material wealth. She prefers the finer things in life, and can come off as hedonistic or superficial to people more used to simple living. In truth, the thought of returning to squalor and poverty—and therefore lacking the means with which to avenge her father—drives her into a panic.
Although Proserpina can be a bit manipulative and is rather guilty of switching personalities to fit current company, as a whole one can expect a great deal of diplomacy and friendliness from her. One might even say that Proserpina shows too much affection towards others. Is it a cloying act brought by her years in court? Who knows. She had ever been the peacemaker between her brothers, and is capable of great love and enduring loyalty to the point of ignoring or tolerating glaring faults... for a chosen few. Recent events, however, have caused something very dark and angry to take root in her heart.
Her origins may have made her compassionate towards the less fortunate, but it has also led her to deeply value material wealth. She prefers the finer things in life, and can come off as hedonistic or superficial to people more used to simple living. In truth, the thought of returning to squalor and poverty—and therefore lacking the means with which to avenge her father—drives her into a panic.
Although Proserpina can be a bit manipulative and is rather guilty of switching personalities to fit current company, as a whole one can expect a great deal of diplomacy and friendliness from her. One might even say that Proserpina shows too much affection towards others. Is it a cloying act brought by her years in court? Who knows. She had ever been the peacemaker between her brothers, and is capable of great love and enduring loyalty to the point of ignoring or tolerating glaring faults... for a chosen few. Recent events, however, have caused something very dark and angry to take root in her heart.
Stats
Ability Scores
[Point Buy]
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 12
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 12
Charisma: 17
Class
Bard
Spells Known:
Tiefling [Variant: Devil’s Tongue]: Vicious Mockery (C), Charm Person (2), Enthrall (5)
Cantrips: Minor Illusion, Prestidigitation
First-level: Faerie Fire, Sleep, Feather Fall, Cure Wounds
Skills
STR: Athletics (-1)
DEX: Acrobatics (+2), Sleight of Hand (+2), Stealth (+2)
INT: Arcana (+1), History (+3), Investigation (+1), Nature (+1), Religion (+1)
WIS: Animal Handling (+1), Insight (+3), Medicine (+1), Perception (+1), Survival (+1)
CHA: Deception (+5), Intimidation (+3), Performance (+5), Persuasion (+5)
Race:
Darkvision, Hellish Resistance, Infernal Legacy [Variant: Devil’s Tongue]
Darkvision, Hellish Resistance, Infernal Legacy [Variant: Devil’s Tongue]
Class:
Bardic Inspiration
Proficiencies & Languages
Armor - Light Armor
Weapons - Simple Weapons, Hand Crossbows, Longswords, Shortswords, Rapier
Tools - Three Musical Instruments: Voice, Lyre, Harp
Languages Known: Common, Infernal, Halfling, Dwarvish
Background
Courtier
Feats
None
Gear
- Leather Armor
- A Set of Fine Clothes
- Odd Xiphos (Flavored Rapier)
- Dagger
- Diplomat’s Pouch (chest, map or scroll case (2), fine clothes, ink, ink pen, lamp, oil (2), paper (5), perfume, sealing wax, soap)
- Lyre
- 5 gp