Name: Karista Leto
Age: 24
Appearance:
The hood of her dusky red cloak is sometimes all that keeps it from flying astray like an untied kite on the winds. Its ends have been gnawed at by the elements and countless footsteps, becoming tattered and tapered towards the middle, somewhat mimicking the fish-tail hem of her dress. The raised front reveals her knees, which are the only bare expanse of skin spared by her coal-coloured boots, and drops loosely behind the ankles. It appears as if her figure was poured into a mold; conforming to every curve like a second skin.
Race: Human/Draconic (descendant)
Class: Sorceress
Weapons:
If the need arises, she will lash out with
this small yet effective blade. (And then squeeze lemon juice into your wounds)
Gear:
A tawny satchel, comprised of a chain and two straps plaited to a quad-shaped wallet measuring a quarter of her height. Noteworthy items include: a book, a few scrolls, a pair of sandals, sticks of charcoal, a water skin, five wooden orbs (the size of an avocado seed), a pull-string sack of seed, and a disc-like, metal, drinking can.
Bio:
For the duration of her childhood, she was raised in a home for orphaned and unwanted children, believing her young, incompetent mother had entrusted her to their resident Clerics. In reality, she was a victim of an elaborate kidnapping ring, conducted by a reclusive sect of dark wizards intending to harvest the arcane energies of young magic-users for their own purposes. Years passed, the captured wards progressed through their days and lessons, aloof to the operations underlying their routinely existence; every new ‘arrival’ was accepted as a new sibling. In anticipation of their powers’ first manifestation, the captors came masqueraded as Temple Clerics to collect young Karista and a handful of her foster brothers and sisters, as per custom for those in their thirteenth year. To her horror, the promised graduation into an institute for higher learning was a ruse concealing an uglier truth.
If it weren’t for the brave rescuers brigade foiling their schemes, achieving what the province’s army could not, she would not know freedom. Every moment thereafter painted her fledgling perceptions with opportunity and promise, and hopes for a new life. At sixteen, her curiosity expanded beyond the migratory route of her adoptive family, not that living with a band of Gypsies was ever boring, but the more she saw, the greater her ambitions became. There was a yearning within her that could not be quelled, as if several souls battled against each other, struggling to emerge and exude their strong influence over her. From the township of Middleton, she was linked up with a Merchant Caravan bound for the lands north of the Kron Mountains and her travels began from there.
Admittedly, many of her pursuits were frivolous and selfish, she discovered a lot about herself and, more often, how much of her persona others could take. On one such trip, she encountered a small group from her gypsy kin and was alerted to the news of her ailing foster father. She joined them on a quest for a special type of healing tonic now considered a rarity, trekking through unmapped terrain, faring against many obstacles in the forms of foes, problematic puzzles and diplomacy. The return to Haven was a joyous occasion marked by success, but even so, Karista did not lay anchor. After a brief reunion, she journeyed east, seeking the coastal regions hiding behind the Dragonspine Mountains.
This latest excursion brings her to a bustling settlement mantled at the foot of the crag-toothed mountains - to Vallenwood.
