A
D&D Gamer Girl
Dekerta Darkcaller
Medium NE Humanoid (Human)
Level 1 Gestalt (Evoultionist 1// Spellcaster 1
HD; 1d8+2 (10HP)
Movement; 30ft
Initiative; +1
AC; 13 (+1 Dex, +2 Natural), Touch 11, Flatfooted 12
Base Attack/Grapple; +0/+0
Attack; Unarmed Strike +0 (1d3) or Negaton Touch +0 (1d6 Negative Energy)
Full Attack; Unarmed Strike +0 (1d3) or Negaton Touch +0 (1d6 Negative Energy)
Attack Options;
Special Qualities; Monster Sage, Resistance to Positive & Negative Energy 5, Darkvision 30ft, Sun Allergy.
Abilities; Strength 10 (+0), Dexterity 12 (+1), Constitution 14 (+2), Intelligence 18 (+4), Wisdom 18 (+4), Charisma 20 (+5), Appearance 18 (+4)
Saves; Fort +6, Ref +1, Will +8
Skills; Concentration +6, Craft (Alchemy) +8, Craft (Poisonmaking) +7, Diplomacy +11, Knowledge (Arcana) +9, Knowledge (Religion) +9, Knowledge (The Planes) +9, Preform (Sexual Techniques) +11, Sense Motive +9, Spellcraft +9, Survival +9.
Feats; Undead Mutator, Outsider Mutator (B), Improved Unarmed Strike (B), Ancient Mutator (B), Tomb Tainted Soul (B), Plant Mutator (B)
Flaw; Hot Blooded, Sun Allergy
Possessions;
Her Cave
Fang Necklace with finger bones (E)
Sandals
Obsidian Dagger
Chest
Tomes of Necomatic Lore (In Chest)
Bloody Altar (In Cave)
Alchemy Lab (In Cave)
Mutations (9); Superior Grace, Negatron Shield, Negatron Touch, Evolve Aptitude, Evolve Skills, Dark Vision, Natural Armor, Evolve Fortitude, Evolve Will, Leaves.
Spells Per Day; 5/3
Spells Known;
0- Detect Magic, Read Magic, Purify Food and Drink, Create Water
1st- Endure Elements, Animate Skeleton
Backstory
Born into one of the many tribes wandering the deserts of the south, Dekerta had always held a sense of wrongness, of being touched by spirits not of life, but of death and shadowed places, of crypts and tombs, of things buried and mean to stay that way under the shifting sands. Still, it was not for several years, that they would discover her true nature.
For the most part, the desert was windblown dunes, a sea of sand, warm and harsh, though there are several oases, watering holes which form natural camping grounds and fortresses, holdings of some tribe or another, each clinging to survival. In some places there were great cliffs, canyons in the endless sands, breaking the white and yellow like great scars rent into the earth.
From birth, she had heard the whispers of the ancient dead, dark things sealed under the deserts, spirits she sought scraps of ancient arcane lore from, and they delivered. While they sought her out, it should be noted that she sought them in turn, meeting them halfway, her eagerness for magic, that secret hidden art the Shaman told her was the domain of men luring her. But all things came with a price. Theirs was in blood, and it was a price she paid gladly.
For a time, she had merely offered lesser beasts, stating their appetites with small offerings, as she accepted the darkness into her soul, twisting and changing her, even where her family could see, a sense of wrongness clinging to her, shadows growing deeper, more sensitive to the sun. The Shaman was the one to discover the full depths of transformation, catching her in the act of attempting to sacrifice a captive, instead of presenting the man to the chief as tribute, as well as the great sin, at least among her tribe, of a woman daring to delve into the realm of the mystic arts, a domain that was strictly the province of men.
For this, she has been exiled from her tribe, and makes her lair in a rocky crag, from which she manages to work her magic, and indeed, is at times called on for the powers of dark witchcraft at her command. A part of her reputation comes from a curse laid on her by the Shaman of her old tribe, banishing her into the night, unable to stand the light of day. For while she can heal, the light will always burn.
