DECIMA AVARIS, MAGE

[attr="class","qty"]"yes, i'm told that hurts."

[attr="class","bxy"][attr="class","bb"]


There is no redemption story to be found here, and if all goes well there never will be.

Little known is the fact that Decima was born a lowly servant’s daughter. Nothing worth batting an eye over, really; she was always just another sack of blood. Better to make profit off of her in some form or another of than to waste. When her magic made itself known, well, that only boosted her worth. It was when she made sure she was useful that she found she could at least aim her master’s plans for her, subtly fight for a scrap of control over her fate.

It wasn’t easy, starting out in slaver’s caverns at fifteen. When pressed about it, however, Decima will fondly regale those who pry with stories that focus far too much on just what was done to others (often by her own hand) and little to nothing on, well, herself. Whether or not the fondness is genuine is up for debate, really. After all, slaves were beneath her to begin with; she was not them. She was certainly not an elf, of which so many of the slaves were. Those amber eyes of hers might be big but they aren’t that big, after all. Any assumption of elf-blood would be a tactless slight against both her and her parents, wherever her father might be.

She is grateful to the work, how couldn’t she be? If she hadn’t been given the opportunity to gradually rise in the ranks, she never would have caught the eye of Leonara Vitus. Leonara had been … so very sweet, for the only daughter of a magister Autilius. So very tragic that she had never shown any signs of her father’s gift, really.
It took some time, as Decima ascended the ranks, for their bond to grow, but it did. And as Leonara’s interest in the slaver grew, so did her father’s. As had been calculated, Decima might claim in certain company.

Autilius had always put up a hard veneer, and he was a difficult teacher, but Decima had expected nothing less from an apprenticeship. There were tests outside of magic, of course, and had she not passed them she would not be here today. For all of his chilly front, the magister cared deeply for his daughter. Decima had relied on this, but one could argue whether or not she had counted on it playing a part in his downfall.

There was no reason left with the note, simply a, “Don’t follow me.” Perhaps she had grown tired of watching her lover or father’s business progress, softer than she had presented herself to be. Perhaps someone had threatened her. Perhaps she had noticed the way the air around Decima could grow thick or thin based on her stature more than any flick of the wrist, the way the woman could somehow manage to make herself small or tower based on what suited her without any kind of shape shifting or magic.

Perhaps she had simply wished for adventure. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long before Leonara’s father sent men and resources after his daughter. The search went on for two years, Autilius’ focus divided. To be fair, it was a wonder such distraction hadn’t cost him his life so much sooner than it had. Decima had been there. When she felt the man’s heart stop beating, she used his blood to fuel her counter attack.

The search for Leonara ceased two days later. If the girl had not been found, she either truly didn’t want to be, or was dead. There was little point in hunting the dead. A few complications had to be smoothed over, no small favors granted before Decima’s right as heir was acknowledged. After all, she was only taking the place that Autilius’ only child never could have.

She did not allow herself grow stagnant there, of course. She would not have reached so unbelievably high only to plateau and be cut down. She continued to cultivate her connections and resources, especially within the business of slavery.

Atilius had taught Decima many things she hadn't known; how to reach in through the blood and make it boil until the brain was mush, how to rain down electricity, how to draw from the fade itself. His affinity for fire, however, did not pass on to her quite so easily. No, as pretty and flashy as all of that was, Decima had grown to rather enjoy practicality. Why not use what's right in front of you. The mind, for instance, of your enemy is right there, with many far more pliable than they'd even imagine. Not to ever forget, of course, that there's always blood to turn or burn or drain. But, the bodies around her have also always contained water. Why not start with blood, and follow that only to freeze it from within, compact the ice until icicles jut of skin or into bone (perhaps even a knee). After all, the look on her enemy's face tends to be far more entertaining that way.

Speaking of such things, if one were to, oh, seek out buying Decima a gift, a good motto to go by would be, “pretty and practical.” Anything from people to weapons might be considered suitable. And while the occasional ornate dagger is pretty, better yet is a stave. With such weapons, Decima is drawn to the practicality of a bladed staff, with all of the touches of gold filigree, jewels ... some extravagant touch or other.


LIST OF TALENTS
Blood Mage (DA:O): Blood Magic, Sacrifice, Blood Wound, Blood Control
Entropy (DA:O): Disorient, Horror, Sleep
Spirit (DA2): Dispel Magic
Elemental (either): Winter's Grasp (Site opening bonus, position bonus.)


LIST OF SKILLS
Improved Combat Training
Improved Vitality


SPECIALIZATION:
Blood Mage