A Lowly Wretch

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

I've always been ready. My blood is purely a conduit to bring Nettle into this reality. It's also a tasty sports drink.

Legacy of Heroes: The New Age

January 1st, 2020, Central City Hospital.

---

The sound of cars driving. Vehicles moving all around. People in boxes. Waves, waves everywhere. Music, words, all hissed from the scratchy metal hums of their radios. Even the clearest signals came with some distortions, however inaudible. She could hear them all.

Then came the hospital. A vast stone box which housed an orchestra of noise. The sounds of ambulances coming in and out of the garages, their engines churning with burning fuel whilst their humans press down the pedals. Doors, so many doors opening and closing, sometimes sliding with a pneumatic hiss. Footsteps, footsteps! Shoes on so many different feet clapping like thunder loud enough to sunder mountains. Beds, stretchers, wheelchairs and trolleys all squeaked along on their wheels as they rolled on and on.

The voices, oh the voices. So many voices she couldn't make out what they were saying. Like trying to eavesdrop on a conversation in a stadium but the stadium is the width and height of the moon and the sounds just keep echoing around as they build upon one another like raindrops cast into a monsoon. Each sound was loud enough on it's own but the sum was a perfect storm so much more than any could imagine. Just as the scope of the sun's vastness could rarely ever be truly imagined, only expressed in a mathematical understanding, so too was the sum of the hospital's noise so vast when viewed through the unconscious periscope that was her still listening mind.

What was not lost on her was the terrible nature of these voices. How sickly, how miserable they all were struck her unlit mind with their wrongness. For a place of healing and birth there was no shortage of misery or death about. Amidst the sea of beeping monitors were coughing and groaning, wheezing and crying. All those who suffered found themselves here and it was in these people that this building found it's true voice. The gasping voice of someone who's life is slowly leaving them, the pained groan of someone who seeks relief but finds none, the shrill cries of one who's arrived in a last ditch grasp at life and the sorrowful sobs of someone who's lost something they cannot replace.

This was the hospital's voice.

_
She might of been unconscious but somewhere deep in that region that could not tune out the sound she dreamt in a dreamless slumber. Like watching the world through smoked lenses that were only the slightest bit transparent she was aware of the fact that she was being moved into this well of suffering. Time however was no object. Seconds could have been minutes, hours, days or even years. There were no thoughts, no emotions, no sensations. Just sound.

But it all came flooding back that awful moment she finally regained consciousness. The mind opened up like a piggy bank shattered with a hammer, the senses spilling forth like so much loose change. She twitched and thrashed as the pain hit her all over again, the overwhelming force of it's magnitude robbing her of all control beyond that of a bundle of nerves hooked up to a car battery and left to jump and flail without aim or purpose.

She tried to scream but all that came from her throat was a raw wheezing rasp, her vocal cords devastated by the unholy wail she had let loose earlier. Her bloodshot eyes shot open and the sight was much too much to take in all at once. It was one thing to not only hear but feel the very sounds around you. It was another thing to see those very sounds in lieu of the proper electromagnetic radiation everyone has come to know as light. It was a barrage of colors as dull resonances that constantly thrummed through the air and surfaces were bombarded with bright neon flashes of sudden sounds like beeps and voices which ripped through the air, ricocheting off of things in rapid blurs. Everything looked just a bit slower as she was processing sound at the speed of sound. It wasn't dissimilar to an adrenaline rush, moments crawling by as though they were full minutes, constantly stuck in a state of having too much time and nowhere near enough.

She was only tangentially aware of the nurses who were pinning her arms down, preventing her from thrashing hard enough to eject herself from the bed. More than that were their voices as they shouted instructions back and forth between each other. She wanted so badly to ask them to be quiet but her throat was so raw and the sound coming from herself would only bring her greater pain. Even the very attempt at trying to lessen the weight upon her mind would only break her down harder.

They inserted a few IV's into her veins, keeping her arms and consequently torso restrained all the while. It was only when the morphine started to hit her system did clarity start to bleed back into her mind. It was slow to be sure but there was little else she could do but lay as still as her organic processes would allow and grit her teeth until she was able to start riding the minor abatement of her suffering like a life raft on a planet who's entire surface is wholly underwater.

_
No longer wholly paralyzed by the full force of her newfound power she was able to start taking in the effects this change of hers had on her senses. It was really quite strange how she could feel everything moving in the sound all around. It was like someone being keenly aware of every cell in their own body. Every change and every motion in this sort of 'Soundscape' felt as though it were all occurring within herself. Sound generated by physical friction was like skin brushing across her own. The sound of hands grasping onto another in a handshake were like if she were shaking her own hands. Then there were the sounds of harsher notes. Wheels squeaking, metal rubbing on metal, were akin to the feeling of her own teeth grinding. It was an abrasive and harsh feeling.

It was overwhelming to even try and grasp just how much was happening that fed back into all of her senses and more. Her focus turned to closer matters a deep dark violet wave kept washing across her. The beeping of the heart-rate monitor in her room. It was painful both due to it's volume and proximity even through the haze of painkilling drugs that were running their course through her bloodstream.

Not really in her best senses she felt it was in her best interest to move away from the violet sound closest to her vicinity. There was no getting away from the sound naturally, it was all throughout the hospital and sounds were bouncing off her constantly, many transmitting through the physical medium of her flesh and weaving in with the organic orchestra that played within. All the low burbling and gurgling noises flooded her form with a light red color, sharp like a cherry but with only a dim radiance, a quiet glow. Deeper shades of red resonated from the creaking groans of her mediocre muscles and tense tendons. The sources which shined the brightest were the stomach and the heart, Two organs ripe with noise. The heart pounded heavy like a drum with bright red waves rolling off it with each beat. The stomach held a more steady yet fluid pattern, it's glow like that of anemic glow-stick fluid but red.

In a way it was truly disconcerting, perhaps less so than the trauma that's been brought upon her but still disquieting. She could feel everything moving both around and inside her. She could feel her blood pumping in more ways than one. Her eyes could see through her rather translucent form like she was an anatomy class dummy, a class of dummy only slightly smarter than one of her variety.

_
THUD!

The very sound of her waifish form colliding with the smooth hospital floor sent shakes all throughout her, the pain of the sounds from her struggle out of bed greater than the impact from the fall. Even through the morphine it was enough to bring her to coil into the fetal position as her body shook uncontrollably. It was only then, so close to herself, that she noticed gross sliminess of her shirt. It was not so long ago when she first arrived at this hospital that the nurses had the opportunity to swap her clothes out into a proper patient's gown yet. There were many patients after all and with no clear visible symptoms or injuries the nurses hadn't had placed her low in their tier of concerns.

While very low in her list of actual concerns the vomit that clung to her shirt was one of the few issues she had power over. Alas, between the cloudy soft numbness that had taken hold of her body & limbs and the strain all this pain has put her body through she was barely able to muster up the strength to crawl. Despite not being able to read the sign on the door she was able to identify the bathroom by it's interior shapes painted in the echoes which flowed through the walls.

As she was about to reach it however something caught her, tugging from behind. The IV stand they had her hooked to was caught on the bed, unable to be pulled along by her IV tubes any longer. Not exactly in the most right of minds she found this impediment to her current fixation, regardless of it's intended benefits, a nuisance. Not really thinking she pulled her arm away from the stand like a belligerent mule against it's tether. The morphine buried the pain of the tubes being yanked free from her veins, blood starting to run from the apertures born from her poor logic.

_
After fumbling at the handle she dragged herself into the bathroom on her hands and knees. The room was starch white, old stains remaining despite the efforts to maintain this facility's cleanliness. It was a very bare design, only a shower head and a low toilet with a railing leading up to it. The room was obviously designed to give wide berth and offer support to whoever uses it, regardless of their condition.

The echo of her ragged breathing carried easily in this room, it's deep indigo hue bouncing about with a low rate of absorption from the tiles. It was quite awful really, this room trapping sound so well. Alas, it was still beneath her pain tolerance whilst she was still aboard the S S Morphine.

She grasped the knob and gave it a twist, unable to tell how to control the temperature precisely. In an instant the room was flooded with more than just water as the shower head hissed to life. A cascade of sound darker than any she'd heard, felt or seen so far washed over her, shortly followed by a cascade of ice cold water.

It was strange that many often referred to the sound of rain as 'White Noise'. This sound which flooded her was the darkest sound by far. It was so black it felt as though it were swallowing up the light inside her. She was drowned within this sound of water steadily raining upon her. It left her submerged in the deep darkness of the blackest rain.

It was curious though. With intense sounds being so painful to endure it was strange to find peace in this continuous blast of sensory stimuli. Perhaps it was the fact that it dulled the sounds of this sickly beast she dwelt within with it's consistent, undiluted tone. Perhaps it was because the pain was distributed in an even fashion, pressure spread equally across her mind creating a mild equilibrium, at least within this diminutive chamber.

Or perhaps it was a result of the morphine's numbness mingling with the cold water further dulling her physical sensations with it's frigid embrace. Needless to say the nurse who arrived at her room when her silent alarm went off was certainly taken aback by this unique sight. He looked into the doorway to the bathroom to find a young girl with blood leaking from her wrist knelt in a puddle of ice cold water, looking up at the shower head with a vacant stare. A more gothically poetic soul might of ruminated on the nature of the scene before him. This nurse however was less concerned with artistry and more concerned with doing his quite literally bloody job.

The black rains were suddenly silenced, only to be followed with what she could deduce to be curse words flowing freely from the nurse's mouth as he hoisted her up from below her armpits and dragged her meager form back into her bed. Consumed with the sudden barrage of stimuli her only reaction was to tense up, her teeth painfully grit as she kept from crying out. Her vocal chords were pushed well beyond their limits back when this all started, leaving her voice as little more than a raspy gasp. Not only was the act of screaming agonizing to her but at this point it wasn't even an option anymore. All she could do was rest as still as possible as she ushered pained gasps.

The nurses reattached the IV to her arm and had security apply arm restraints so she couldn't go on any more 'exciting adventures'.

But hey, at least her shirt was clean. Well, cleaner.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Lurking in the bushes, eyeing the IC like some predatory animal like a ferret or a squid.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

I saw the opening and struck.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Waits in the rafters, ready to swoop down and catch the delicious firefly of introduction when the moment is right like the veritable bat I am.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

I, of course, am waiting for the city escape scene to draw to a close so that I might lurk in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

@Xaltwind I have Nettle posted up in the CS tab. I'll lurk until a viable introduction point presents itself. Having some random child wonder up to a group of adventurers without purpose might not promote invitation to go murder things.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Nettle

Name: Nettle.
Age: 12.
Gender: Female.
Race: Human (Changed).

Appearance:

Her skin is pale unto the point of looking almost undead due to just how little sun one sees when living in Stranglesun Swamp. Despite the vaguely deathly looking state of her skin it is without blemish, smooth and clear with nary a fault. Though she always tends to keep her head down and wear a mild-mannered expression her slim face tends to bring out her eyes that possess a deep dark nephrite green colour. Her hair which hangs down to the middle of her back curves with a modest wave and is a rich yet dark moss green colour.

She is a rather thinly built person. Her physique would make a quail seem buff in comparison. She is not as wholly feeble as she appears but she is no physical powerhouse by any means.

For attire she typically dons long dark brown robes, the darker color being ideal for concealing the many stains it has accrued both in the swamp and throughout her crafts. It has a big hood which is handy in rough weather. Her long abundance of hair is mostly tucked into the back though her front bangs hang out the front of the hood, covering her face for the most part when she has her hood up. For footwear she wears big hide boots that look several sizes too large on her feet. They were a gift from one of her fellow orphans, sewn together from the hide of a giant dead rat that was strangled to death by Stranglebriar Vines. Hanging from her shoulder by a hide strap is a large bag crafted from a portion of the stomach of a massive boar. She typically carries a long crook with her wherever she goes, this wooden tool having been treated with a special resin to keep it from decaying.

Height: 120 cm.

Personality.

Having grown up as an orphan in Stranglesun Swamp she was bound to be a strange sort. With thanks to the Caregiver she along with eight others survived in a wild region where close to everything was poisonous and somewhat on the larger scale when compared to species found in tamer wilderness. The Caregiver however was not a being with a terrifying lot in common with more... Common societies. She's been raised with a great knowledge of plants, the swamp and other less tangible presences but in exchange she's learned nearly nothing in regards to civilized society.

What some see as being distant and spaced out others might see as simply being a rather reserved individual. Both would probably be correct to some extent as far as that's concerned. She is quite mild tempered and takes most problems in similar stride. She prefers to think her way through situations rather than power through things. Nettle is not very outspoken either and she tends to remain distant in most matters. This attitude is not out of a fear of confrontation but rather her tendency to get absorbed in her own thoughts, often preferring to dwell on matters that pertain to her pursuits rather than on tangential matters. Some might accuse her of being antisocial but her lack of socialization with others is not out of an aversion to social interaction but rather an unfamiliarity with societal norms.

With having spent pretty close to her whole life in the Stranglesun Swamp she's most at home in the natural world. She's somewhat distrustful of the civilized world given what she's been taught of man by The Caregiver. Even still she's willing to brave any danger should it lead her closer to The Caregiver.

The Caregiver gave her and the fellow orphans care. She will do nearly anything to bring it back.

History:

Abandoned as an infant she was found and taken in by a strange entity known only as the Caregiver. She along with eight other orphans were taken and given shelter from the swamp by this being. For most of the day the Caregiver would be absent leaving the children to their own devices. From time to time throughout the day the Caregiver would descend into their reality where it would brew strange stews or tell it's stories to them. It taught them pretty much everything they knew and it's stews bestowed subtle changes upon them. Whenever one of the orphans was hurt or ailing a taste of the brew would heal them right up in short time, leaving them good as new.

After many years on a diet of such stew they found themselves less susceptible to the hazards of the swamp. The new organs that had grown within them mixed their blood with a strange milky yellow sap-like substance that would eat away any unwelcome poisons and diseases that found their way into their bodies. In addition their irides had developed strange properties which made their sight more sensitive to the presence of the spiritual life surrounding them. Evanescent wisps, drifting shadows and ripples on the fabric of reality before them were all hints to a deeper layer of the world that laid before them.

Each of the orphans learned to survive in the swamps, each taking their own path in adapting to the struggles such life offered. In tree houses and home stumps they dwelt, living off the land and practicing their strange magic.
_
The children might not have had an easy life but thanks to the Caregiver they had made the most of what the land had to offer. In truth the children were quite happy with what they had, strange as they might have been. Just as with any tale however change was in the wind. When the orphans were capable of living on their own the Caregiver ceased to appear within it's hut. They were greatly confused and concerned by this.

After all no more Caregiver meant no more of it's tasty stew and no more of it's bizarre but captivating stories but most depressingly of all it meant there'd be no more of it's words of loving care. It was as much of a mother and father to them as they had ever known and now it was gone, nowhere to be found.

After a period of mourning in their respective ways some of the orphans simply returned to living as they did before, albeit with an air of melancholy stealing the spring from their step. Others, Nettle included, did not take the loss of the Caregiver laying down. Each one of them was determined to find a way to bring the Caregiver back so their family could be whole again. Each one of them went about the challenge in their own way. Nettle's way was to set out into the world and seek her answer beyond the swamp's borders.

-----
Level: 20.
Class: Witch.
Profession: Herbalist.

Stats:
Strength (STR): E.
Vitality (VIT): F.
Dexterity (DEX): C.
Intellect (iNT): S.
Wisdom (WIS): B.
Charisma (CHA): F.

List of immunities:
- Diseases.
- Poisons.
- Parasites.

Weaknesses:
- -20% Max HP.

Equipment:
- A wide variety of herbs for many uses.
- A skin of combustible salamander spit made from it's stomach.
- Magical mushrooms that can cause the one who ingests it to grow large and tall for a time.
- A thin needle-like thorn with a hooked end that's paired with some vine fibers spooled around a wooden rod.
- A blowpipe and twenty wooden blow darts.
- A stone dagger with a sinew-wrapped handle.
- Several wards, charms and dream catchers she's enchanted to ward off malevolent spirits.
- Candles & incense.
- A breathing reed for traveling beneath the water's surface.
- A bladder full of leftover stew from The Caregiver. The stew bestows remarkable healing qualities, even in small doses.
The rest is just basic traveling supplies.

Skills & Spells:

|Lancing Thistle| - When cast a jagged dark purple light jets forth from her fingertips. Upon contacting a solid surface a thistle flower will germinate beneath it's surface. Spurred to grow by the magic that bore it the thistle will erupt forth, tearing through said surface and spreading it's roots into it as though it were soil. The process is excruciatingly painful for living creatures afflicted as it's thorns tear through the skin and it's roots dig a shallow distance beneath it. Worse still is the pain and damage incurred trying to remove the thistle once it's taken root.

|Mark of The Serpent| - With this spell Nettle summons forth a snake spirit. At her command it will envenom it's target before returning to it's home. The venom causes damaging necrosis in the living, killing cells as it courses through the victim's body. This will continue until either the venom runs it's course, the curse is broken or the victim dies.

|Rising Briars| - This spell summons forth Stranglebriar Vines when cast. These tough sinewy vines coated with wicked thorns erupt from the earth, winding about until they settle in a large patch of deadly briars. These plants respond to objects moving through them by lashing about violently until their thorns can find purchase in the intrusion's form. Once it's found purchase on it's victim it's lashing quickly turns to constriction as it's tough fibrous length winds about until it's victim is immobilized in it's thorny grasp. It will continue to squeeze, digging it's thorns in to bleed it's victim dry, until whatever it is remains motionless for a long enough period of time before it relaxes.

|Concealing Mists| - This spell conjures a dense white mist which fades into existence, obfuscating a large area within it until the wind eventually disperses it. The more still the air in it's area is the longer the mist remains.

|Prayer Unto Htzhasohs Rains| - This is a ritual taught to her to bring about a miracle from the rain spirit Htzhasohs. When cast the skies will start to darken as grey clouds gather overhead. Over many kilometres a downpour will begin, raining heavily in a great storm which will last for hours. This ritual takes about thirty minutes to cast, complete with chanting and a dance.

|Nature's Tongue| - This spell when cast allows Nettle to bypass the need for physical speech, allowing her to communicate directly to the spirit of any beast or plant in her presence. These wild life forms are not required to heed her words but can choose to do so if they are so inclined.

|Ward vs Spirits| - Nettle is able to make special sigils which are imbued with a magical ward against spirits. These wards protect an area within a reasonably wide diameter, barring entry from any spirit, ghost or other variety of spectral entity which fits such classification. She is able to craft charms featuring these sigils and she can also draw them when necessary. Naturally the wards are only as strong as the caster who made them so spirits stronger than her would still be able to break through.

|Wild Life| (Passive) - Nettle has spent most of her whole life in the wilderness. While she is most at home in swamplands she is rarely out of her element in the woods. While traveling through unpaved & untrodden forests she is virtually unimpeded by all but the most untraversable of obstacles like a cliff or a lake. She also has little difficulty in basic day-to-day survival such as finding food or shelter. Having avoided civilization for so long has had it's drawbacks such as a minimal understanding of her own race's culture and illiteracy. What she lacks in civil education she possesses in worldly experience and the teachings of a strange mentor.

|Low Profile| (Passive) - Life in Stranglesun Swamp has taught Nettle that going unnoticed is a key component to survival. She has practiced stealth for a long while, learning how to get around while avoiding detection from a variety of methods. Tracking her in the wild would be a great effort for even experienced trackers. She's less familiar with going unseen in cities but her small stature and light frame still help her evade detection when necessary.

|Gift of The Caregiver| (Passive) - The stews that The Caregiver had fed her and her kin possessed strange properties, bestowing upon those who fed upon it long enough physical changes which, though subtle, alter their biology in unusual yet fairly beneficial ways. Within her body a new gland has grown which secretes large amounts of strange milky yellow sap, pumping the goop all throughout her blood stream. This strange yellow sap binds with harmful substances and organisms, breaking them down so her body's immune system can properly identify and dispose of them. This protects her from all varieties of diseases, viruses, poisons and parasites. In addition her eye's lenses have been altered, allowing her to see spirits & ghosts. While she can perceive them when they'd ordinarily be invisible to anyone else everything else that applies for a spirit or ghost still functions normally.

Custom Class Overview: The Witch class is sort of like a druid but with more focus on spirits and curses.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

@Xaltwind - I guess asides from the fact that she's a kid and also uneducated in her own race's culture, leaving her illiterate, I've included a negative to her max health as a trade-off. A bit of fragility in exchange for good health. I've also scrubbed away |Choking Spores|, leaving it as a higher level spell for later, and included an extended portion on the skill |Wild Life| to better elaborate on her lack of formal education. Hopefully this should suffice.

Nettle

Name: Nettle.
Age: 12.
Gender: Female.
Race: Human (Changed).

Appearance:

Her skin is pale unto the point of looking almost undead due to just how little sun one sees when living in Stranglesun Swamp. Despite the vaguely deathly looking state of her skin it is without blemish, smooth and clear with nary a fault. Though she always tends to keep her head down and wear a mild-mannered expression her slim face tends to bring out her eyes that possess a deep dark nephrite green colour. Her hair which hangs down to the middle of her back curves with a modest wave and is a rich yet dark moss green colour.

She is a rather thinly built person. Her physique would make a quail seem buff in comparison. She is not as wholly feeble as she appears but she is no physical powerhouse by any means.

For attire she typically dons long dark brown robes, the darker color being ideal for concealing the many stains it has accrued both in the swamp and throughout her crafts. It has a big hood which is handy in rough weather. Her long abundance of hair is mostly tucked into the back though her front bangs hang out the front of the hood, covering her face for the most part when she has her hood up. For footwear she wears big hide boots that look several sizes too large on her feet. They were a gift from one of her fellow orphans, sewn together from the hide of a giant dead rat that was strangled to death by Stranglebriar Vines. Hanging from her shoulder by a hide strap is a large bag crafted from a portion of the stomach of a massive boar. She typically carries a long crook with her wherever she goes, this wooden tool having been treated with a special resin to keep it from decaying.

Height: 120 cm.

Personality.

Having grown up as an orphan in Stranglesun Swamp she was bound to be a strange sort. With thanks to the Caregiver she along with eight others survived in a wild region where close to everything was poisonous and somewhat on the larger scale when compared to species found in tamer wilderness. The Caregiver however was not a being with a terrifying lot in common with more... Common societies. She's been raised with a great knowledge of plants, the swamp and other less tangible presences but in exchange she's learned nearly nothing in regards to civilized society.

What some see as being distant and spaced out others might see as simply being a rather reserved individual. Both would probably be correct to some extent as far as that's concerned. She is quite mild tempered and takes most problems in similar stride. She prefers to think her way through situations rather than power through things. Nettle is not very outspoken either and she tends to remain distant in most matters. This attitude is not out of a fear of confrontation but rather her tendency to get absorbed in her own thoughts, often preferring to dwell on matters that pertain to her pursuits rather than on tangential matters. Some might accuse her of being antisocial but her lack of socialization with others is not out of an aversion to social interaction but rather an unfamiliarity with societal norms.

With having spent pretty close to her whole life in the Stranglesun Swamp she's most at home in the natural world. She's somewhat distrustful of the civilized world given what she's been taught of man by The Caregiver. Even still she's willing to brave any danger should it lead her closer to The Caregiver.

The Caregiver gave her and the fellow orphans care. She will do nearly anything to bring it back.

History:

Abandoned as an infant she was found and taken in by a strange entity known only as the Caregiver. She along with eight other orphans were taken and given shelter from the swamp by this being. For most of the day the Caregiver would be absent leaving the children to their own devices. From time to time throughout the day the Caregiver would descend into their reality where it would brew strange stews or tell it's stories to them. It taught them pretty much everything they knew and it's stews bestowed subtle changes upon them. Whenever one of the orphans was hurt or ailing a taste of the brew would heal them right up in short time, leaving them good as new.

After many years on a diet of such stew they found themselves less susceptible to the hazards of the swamp. The new organs that had grown within them mixed their blood with a strange milky yellow sap-like substance that would eat away any unwelcome poisons and diseases that found their way into their bodies. In addition their irides had developed strange properties which made their sight more sensitive to the presence of the spiritual life surrounding them. Evanescent wisps, drifting shadows and ripples on the fabric of reality before them were all hints to a deeper layer of the world that laid before them.

Each of the orphans learned to survive in the swamps, each taking their own path in adapting to the struggles such life offered. In tree houses and home stumps they dwelt, living off the land and practicing their strange magic.
_
The children might not have had an easy life but thanks to the Caregiver they had made the most of what the land had to offer. In truth the children were quite happy with what they had, strange as they might have been. Just as with any tale however change was in the wind. When the orphans were capable of living on their own the Caregiver ceased to appear within it's hut. They were greatly confused and concerned by this.

After all no more Caregiver meant no more of it's tasty stew and no more of it's bizarre but captivating stories but most depressingly of all it meant there'd be no more of it's words of loving care. It was as much of a mother and father to them as they had ever known and now it was gone, nowhere to be found.

After a period of mourning in their respective ways some of the orphans simply returned to living as they did before, albeit with an air of melancholy stealing the spring from their step. Others, Nettle included, did not take the loss of the Caregiver laying down. Each one of them was determined to find a way to bring the Caregiver back so their family could be whole again. Each one of them went about the challenge in their own way. Nettle's way was to set out into the world and seek her answer beyond the swamp's borders.

-----
Level: 20.
Class: Witch.
Profession: Herbalist.

Stats:
Strength (STR): E.
Vitality (VIT): F.
Dexterity (DEX): C.
Intellect (iNT): S.
Wisdom (WIS): B.
Charisma (CHA): F.

List of immunities:
- Diseases.
- Poisons.
- Parasites.

Weaknesses:
- -20% Max HP.

Equipment:
- A wide variety of herbs for many uses.
- A skin of combustible salamander spit made from it's stomach.
- Magical mushrooms that can cause the one who ingests it to grow large and tall for a time.
- A thin needle-like thorn with a hooked end that's paired with some vine fibers spooled around a wooden rod.
- A blowpipe and twenty wooden blow darts.
- A stone dagger with a sinew-wrapped handle.
- Several wards, charms and dream catchers she's enchanted to ward off malevolent spirits.
- Candles & incense.
- A breathing reed for traveling beneath the water's surface.
- A bladder full of leftover stew from The Caregiver. The stew bestows remarkable healing qualities, even in small doses.
The rest is just basic traveling supplies.

Skills & Spells:

|Lancing Thistle| - When cast a jagged dark purple light jets forth from her fingertips. Upon contacting a solid surface a thistle flower will germinate beneath it's surface. Spurred to grow by the magic that bore it the thistle will erupt forth, tearing through said surface and spreading it's roots into it as though it were soil. The process is excruciatingly painful for living creatures afflicted as it's thorns tear through the skin and it's roots dig a shallow distance beneath it. Worse still is the pain and damage incurred trying to remove the thistle once it's taken root.

|Mark of The Serpent| - With this spell Nettle summons forth a snake spirit. At her command it will envenom it's target before returning to it's home. The venom causes damaging necrosis in the living, killing cells as it courses through the victim's body. This will continue until either the venom runs it's course, the curse is broken or the victim dies.

|Rising Briars| - This spell summons forth Stranglebriar Vines when cast. These tough sinewy vines coated with wicked thorns erupt from the earth, winding about until they settle in a large patch of deadly briars. These plants respond to objects moving through them by lashing about violently until their thorns can find purchase in the intrusion's form. Once it's found purchase on it's victim it's lashing quickly turns to constriction as it's tough fibrous length winds about until it's victim is immobilized in it's thorny grasp. It will continue to squeeze, digging it's thorns in to bleed it's victim dry, until whatever it is remains motionless for a long enough period of time before it relaxes.

|Concealing Mists| - This spell conjures a dense white mist which fades into existence, obfuscating a large area within it until the wind eventually disperses it. The more still the air in it's area is the longer the mist remains.

|Prayer Unto Htzhasohs Rains| - This is a ritual taught to her to bring about a miracle from the rain spirit Htzhasohs. When cast the skies will start to darken as grey clouds gather overhead. Over many kilometres a downpour will begin, raining heavily in a great storm which will last for hours. This ritual takes about thirty minutes to cast, complete with chanting and a dance.

|Nature's Tongue| - This spell when cast allows Nettle to bypass the need for physical speech, allowing her to communicate directly to the spirit of any beast or plant in her presence. These wild life forms are not required to heed her words but can choose to do so if they are so inclined.

|Ward vs Spirits| - Nettle is able to make special sigils which are imbued with a magical ward against spirits. These wards protect an area within a reasonably wide diameter, barring entry from any spirit, ghost or other variety of spectral entity which fits such classification. She is able to craft charms featuring these sigils and she can also draw them when necessary. Naturally the wards are only as strong as the caster who made them so spirits stronger than her would still be able to break through.

|Wild Life| (Passive) - Nettle has spent most of her whole life in the wilderness. While she is most at home in swamplands she is rarely out of her element in the woods. While traveling through unpaved & untrodden forests she is virtually unimpeded by all but the most untraversable of obstacles like a cliff or a lake. She also has little difficulty in basic day-to-day survival such as finding food or shelter. Having avoided civilization for so long has had it's drawbacks such as a minimal understanding of her own race's culture and illiteracy. What she lacks in civil education she possesses in worldly experience and the teachings of a strange mentor.

|Low Profile| (Passive) - Life in Stranglesun Swamp has taught Nettle that going unnoticed is a key component to survival. She has practiced stealth for a long while, learning how to get around while avoiding detection from a variety of methods. Tracking her in the wild would be a great effort for even experienced trackers. She's less familiar with going unseen in cities but her small stature and light frame still help her evade detection when necessary.

|Gift of The Caregiver| (Passive) - The stews that The Caregiver had fed her and her kin possessed strange properties, bestowing upon those who fed upon it long enough physical changes which, though subtle, alter their biology in unusual yet fairly beneficial ways. Within her body a new gland has grown which secretes large amounts of strange milky yellow sap, pumping the goop all throughout her blood stream. This strange yellow sap binds with harmful substances and organisms, breaking them down so her body's immune system can properly identify and dispose of them. This protects her from all varieties of diseases, viruses, poisons and parasites. In addition her eye's lenses have been altered, allowing her to see spirits & ghosts. While she can perceive them when they'd ordinarily be invisible to anyone else everything else that applies for a spirit or ghost still functions normally.

Custom Class Overview: The Witch class is sort of like a druid but with more focus on spirits and curses.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Here is another character submission, my swamp witch concept.

Nettle

Name: Nettle.
Age: 12.
Gender: Female.
Race: Human (Changed).

Appearance:

Her skin is pale unto the point of looking almost undead due to just how little sun one sees when living in Stranglesun Swamp. Despite the vaguely deathly looking state of her skin it is without blemish, smooth and clear with nary a fault. Though she always tends to keep her head down and wear a mild-mannered expression her slim face tends to bring out her eyes that possess a deep dark nephrite green colour. Her hair which hangs down to the middle of her back curves with a modest wave and is a rich yet dark moss green colour.

She is a rather thinly built person. Her physique would make a quail seem buff in comparison. She is not as wholly feeble as she appears but she is no physical powerhouse by any means.

For attire she typically dons long dark brown robes, the darker color being ideal for concealing the many stains it has accrued both in the swamp and throughout her crafts. It has a big hood which is handy in rough weather. Her long abundance of hair is mostly tucked into the back though her front bangs hang out the front of the hood, covering her face for the most part when she has her hood up. For footwear she wears big hide boots that look several sizes too large on her feet. They were a gift from one of her fellow orphans, sewn together from the hide of a giant dead rat that was strangled to death by Stranglebriar Vines. Hanging from her shoulder by a hide strap is a large bag crafted from a portion of the stomach of a massive boar. She typically carries a long crook with her wherever she goes, this wooden tool having been treated with a special resin to keep it from decaying.

Height: 120 cm.

Personality.

Having grown up as an orphan in Stranglesun Swamp she was bound to be a strange sort. With thanks to the Caregiver she along with eight others survived in a wild region where close to everything was poisonous and somewhat on the larger scale when compared to species found in tamer wilderness. The Caregiver however was not a being with a terrifying lot in common with more... Common societies. She's been raised with a great knowledge of plants, the swamp and other less tangible presences but in exchange she's learned nearly nothing in regards to civilized society.

What some see as being distant and spaced out others might see as simply being a rather reserved individual. Both would probably be correct to some extent as far as that's concerned. She is quite mild tempered and takes most problems in similar stride. She prefers to think her way through situations rather than power through things. Nettle is not very outspoken either and she tends to remain distant in most matters. This attitude is not out of a fear of confrontation but rather her tendency to get absorbed in her own thoughts, often preferring to dwell on matters that pertain to her pursuits rather than on tangential matters. Some might accuse her of being antisocial but her lack of socialization with others is not out of an aversion to social interaction but rather an unfamiliarity with societal norms.

With having spent pretty close to her whole life in the Stranglesun Swamp she's most at home in the natural world. She's somewhat distrustful of the civilized world given what she's been taught of man by The Caregiver. Even still she's willing to brave any danger should it lead her closer to The Caregiver.

The Caregiver gave her and the fellow orphans care. She will do nearly anything to bring it back.

History:

Abandoned as an infant she was found and taken in by a strange entity known only as the Caregiver. She along with eight other orphans were taken and given shelter from the swamp by this being. For most of the day the Caregiver would be absent leaving the children to their own devices. From time to time throughout the day the Caregiver would descend into their reality where it would brew strange stews or tell it's stories to them. It taught them pretty much everything they knew and it's stews bestowed subtle changes upon them. Whenever one of the orphans was hurt or ailing a taste of the brew would heal them right up in short time, leaving them good as new.

After many years on a diet of such stew they found themselves less susceptible to the hazards of the swamp. The new organs that had grown within them mixed their blood with a strange milky yellow sap-like substance that would eat away any unwelcome poisons and diseases that found their way into their bodies. In addition their irides had developed strange properties which made their sight more sensitive to the presence of the spiritual life surrounding them. Evanescent wisps, drifting shadows and ripples on the fabric of reality before them were all hints to a deeper layer of the world that laid before them.

Each of the orphans learned to survive in the swamps, each taking their own path in adapting to the struggles such life offered. In tree houses and home stumps they dwelt, living off the land and practicing their strange magic.
_
The children might not have had an easy life but thanks to the Caregiver they had made the most of what the land had to offer. In truth the children were quite happy with what they had, strange as they might have been. Just as with any tale however change was in the wind. When the orphans were capable of living on their own the Caregiver ceased to appear within it's hut. They were greatly confused and concerned by this.

After all no more Caregiver meant no more of it's tasty stew and no more of it's bizarre but captivating stories but most depressingly of all it meant there'd be no more of it's words of loving care. It was as much of a mother and father to them as they had ever known and now it was gone, nowhere to be found.

After a period of mourning in their respective ways some of the orphans simply returned to living as they did before, albeit with an air of melancholy stealing the spring from their step. Others, Nettle included, did not take the loss of the Caregiver laying down. Each one of them was determined to find a way to bring the Caregiver back so their family could be whole again. Each one of them went about the challenge in their own way. Nettle's way was to set out into the world and seek her answer beyond the swamp's borders.

-----
Level: 20.
Class: Witch.
Profession: Herbalist.

Stats:
Strength (STR): E.
Vitality (VIT): F.
Dexterity (DEX): C.
Intellect (iNT): S.
Wisdom (WIS): B.
Charisma (CHA): F.

List of immunities:
- Diseases.
- Poisons.
- Parasites.

Equipment:
- A wide variety of herbs for many uses.
- A skin of combustible salamander spit made from it's stomach.
- Magical mushrooms that can cause the one who ingests it to grow large and tall for a time.
- A thin needle-like thorn with a hooked end that's paired with some vine fibers spooled around a wooden rod.
- A blowpipe and twenty wooden blow darts.
- A stone dagger with a sinew-wrapped handle.
- Several wards, charms and dream catchers she's enchanted to ward off malevolent spirits.
- Candles & incense.
- A breathing reed for traveling beneath the water's surface.
- A bladder full of leftover stew from The Caregiver. The stew bestows remarkable healing qualities, even in small doses.
The rest is just basic traveling supplies.

Skills & Spells:

|Lancing Thistle| - When cast a jagged dark purple light jets forth from her fingertips. Upon contacting a solid surface a thistle flower will germinate beneath it's surface. Spurred to grow by the magic that bore it the thistle will erupt forth, tearing through said surface and spreading it's roots into it as though it were soil. The process is excruciatingly painful for living creatures afflicted as it's thorns tear through the skin and it's roots dig a shallow distance beneath it. Worse still is the pain and damage incurred trying to remove the thistle once it's taken root.

|Mark of The Serpent| - With this spell Nettle summons forth a snake spirit. At her command it will envenom it's target before returning to it's home. The venom causes damaging necrosis in the living, killing cells as it courses through the victim's body. This will continue until either the venom runs it's course, the curse is broken or the victim dies.

|Rising Briars| - This spell summons forth Stranglebriar Vines when cast. These tough sinewy vines coated with wicked thorns erupt from the earth, winding about until they settle in a large patch of deadly briars. These plants respond to objects moving through them by lashing about violently until their thorns can find purchase in the intrusion's form. Once it's found purchase on it's victim it's lashing quickly turns to constriction as it's tough fibrous length winds about until it's victim is immobilized in it's thorny grasp. It will continue to squeeze, digging it's thorns in to bleed it's victim dry, until whatever it is remains motionless for a long enough period of time before it relaxes.

|Choking Spores| - Nettle closes her hand upon casting this spell. When she opens it the spell summons forth a cloud of fungal spores which expel outwards from her palm and fill a small area with these airborne fungi. While each spore is as fine as dust when dry they swell up when exposed to moisture and warmth. They are very dangerous to breath for should they enter the throat and lungs they will cling to the interior flesh with their fine, hairlike hyphae which coat their surfaces and expand. They are very difficult to cough out due to this and are prone to close off airways and clog lungs in sufficient numbers.

|Concealing Mists| - This spell conjures a dense white mist which fades into existence, obfuscating a large area within it until the wind eventually disperses it. The more still the air in it's area is the longer the mist remains.

|Prayer Unto Htzhasohs Rains| - This is a ritual taught to her to bring about a miracle from the rain spirit Htzhasohs. When cast the skies will start to darken as grey clouds gather overhead. Over many kilometres a downpour will begin, raining heavily in a great storm which will last for hours. This ritual takes about thirty minutes to cast, complete with chanting and a dance.

|Nature's Tongue| - This spell when cast allows Nettle to bypass the need for physical speech, allowing her to communicate directly to the spirit of any beast or plant in her presence. These wild life forms are not required to heed her words but can choose to do so if they are so inclined.

|Ward vs Spirits| - Nettle is able to make special sigils which are imbued with a magical ward against spirits. These wards protect an area within a reasonably wide diameter, barring entry from any spirit, ghost or other variety of spectral entity which fits such classification. She is able to craft charms featuring these sigils and she can also draw them when necessary. Naturally the wards are only as strong as the caster who made them so spirits stronger than her would still be able to break through.

|Wild Life| (Passive) - Nettle has spent most of her whole life in the wilderness. While she is most at home in swamplands she is rarely out of her element in the woods. While traveling through unpaved & untrodden forests she is virtually unimpeded by all but the most untraversable of obstacles like a cliff or a lake. She also has little difficulty in basic day-to-day survival such as finding food or shelter.

|Low Profile| (Passive) - Life in Stranglesun Swamp has taught Nettle that going unnoticed is a key component to survival. She has practiced stealth for a long while, learning how to get around while avoiding detection from a variety of methods. Tracking her in the wild would be a great effort for even experienced trackers. She's less familiar with going unseen in cities but her small stature and light frame still help her evade detection when necessary.

|Gift of The Caregiver| (Passive) - The stews that The Caregiver had fed her and her kin possessed strange properties, bestowing upon those who fed upon it long enough physical changes which, though subtle, alter their biology in unusual yet fairly beneficial ways. Within her body a new gland has grown which secretes large amounts of strange milky yellow sap, pumping the goop all throughout her blood stream. This strange yellow sap binds with harmful substances and organisms, breaking them down so her body's immune system can properly identify and dispose of them. This protects her from all varieties of diseases, viruses, poisons and parasites. In addition her eye's lenses have been altered, allowing her to see spirits & ghosts. While she can perceive them when they'd ordinarily be invisible to anyone else everything else that applies for a spirit or ghost still functions normally.

Custom Class Overview: The Witch class is sort of like a druid but with more focus on spirits and curses.