Sophira Veran

Sophira Veran A devious and fiery Sun Elf wizard with a lust for adventure, magic items, and, above all, knowledge.

"You're nothing if you aren't what you make yourself as."
Sophira Veran
Aliases	Sophie, Vira
Player	Kat
Home	Baldur’s Gate
Gender	Female
Race	Sun Elf
Age in 1373 DR	112
Class 3.5 ed. rules	Wizard 9 {{{4}}} {{{5}}} {{{6}}} {{{7}}} {{{8}}} {{{9}}} {{{10}}} {{{11}}} {{{12}}} {{{13}}} {{{14}}} {{{15}}} {{{16}}} {{{17}}} {{{18}}} {{{19}}} {{{20}}}
Alignment	Chaotic Neutral
Patron deity	Mystra
Languages	Common, Elven, Draconic, Infernal, Abyssal, Auran, Goblin, Undercommon, Sylvan

Personality

Prim and proper from decades of etiquette training and living in the apple of her parents' eyes, Sophie also knows how to exercise humility, though she'd rather not. She doesn't mind meeting new people, but ends up caring little for most of them. It is rare event to make a close friend with this haughty Sun Elf. If she doesn't feel right off that you're worth listening to or respecting she'll likely come off as quite rude. She always respects a powerful person, whether politically or otherwise, but won't go out of her way to be anything more than civilly decent with them unless she thinks they're worth the extra niceties. Although she tends to respect the exceptionally powerful more than the exceptionally nice, she has soft spot for those that she sees as "promising", mostly, upcoming wizards or scholars.

When on her own, Sophie is a levelheaded and determined young Elf. Not one for outbursts or fusses, she reacts well in combat and trying situations and tends to lose patience with those who get flustered easily. If she gets a goal into her head she stubbornly pursues it for her own reasons, only caring what others think if they can help her with achieving or understanding more about it. Though she has some long-term goals, she is more interested with where she is planning on going or doing in the next day or week rather than a year down the road.

Sophie is quite picky about her appearance, preferring eye-catching attire that will help her stand out and be noticed to something more decent. Though willing to put aside vanity for practicality, she uses the rest of the time to show off as much as she can. She is quite proud of her fought-for power and skill and lets people know it. More refined in shows of magical talent (she prefers to save the use of magic for when she really needs it; years on the unpredictable open road squeezed that urge out of her), she'd rather boast about her works then openly reveal them. Those she tells it to may or may not take her word for it, but she saves all of her reserves while still being able to preen a few feathers.

She is not wholly the romantic type, finding herself too busy with studies to worry about the complicated matter of love and used to completely rejecting all the suitors her family tried to match her with, angry as she was for trying to be forced with someone who was either - in her eyes - lower in status, lower in power, or both. She is, then, a bit of a novice in the realms of love and is as a result a tad fickle and susceptible to less than pure advances. She may fall for a handsome elf who can throw a perfect fireball until she finds out that he's a total snob and drop her budding feelings like a stone, only to find another crush a week later.

Appearance

Standing at a comfortable five feet seven inches and possessing a slender if not magnificently thin build, with flame-red, shoulder-length hair and often garbed in magnificently colored robes, Sophira is a Sun Elf who is used to stealing glances and loves to do so. She walks with all the graceful haughtiness familiar to all Sun Elves, but with a touch of practicality.

Her crimson-and-gold robes are always neat and clean, her flame-colored hair smooth and brilliant, her bronzed skin unblemished. She feels that if there's one way to help improve your day, it's improving your appearance. She always keeps herself drawn up to her slightly larger than usual height and, combined with her walk and powerful presence, tends to seem taller than she actually is.

History

Born in the city of Evereska, Sophie was already sixth or seventh down the perpetually growing Veran family line. Surrounded by a handful of older brothers and an older sister and followed by three more siblings, Sophie grew up in the constant shadow of competition. Her father was a Loremaster at one of the city's biggest libraries and her mother was an archmage in service of tending the city's protective mythal and, at times, taught young, promising mages the art of the arcane. The blue-blooded parents held high expectations for their children, both having been born of highly reputable and haughty bloodlines, and enrolled all of them in multiple lessons and university work at very young ages.

Thus, all Sophie can remember from the first two decades of her youth were the grueling schedules of Arcane classes, lore classes, archery classes, language classes, swordplay practices, etiquette demonstrations and, her favorite, Magic lessons. The last lessons were often held in the early morning, along with a dozen other elven youths, and Sophie quickly found a natural dexterity for the hand motions, a quick tongue for the words and a good memory for components and general understanding of the Weave. After only eight years of basic training Sophie was head and shoulders above her classmates and knew it well. She held a fierce pride in her achievement and, after some deliberation amongst the elders, her mother personally took over her training, giving her private lessons every morning.

At the tender age of 28, Sophie thought that her life couldn't get much better. Even her parents were taking notice in her excelling. She ate up years of detailed lore and history in days, was already fluent in four languages, could hit a bullseye from four hundred paces with a longbow, and was years ahead of most wizards her age. She quickly became the apple of her parents' critical eyes; and her siblings quickly realized it. In her sparse free time at home, her older brothers tormented her with practical jokes and pranks of all natures while her younger siblings took to spreading nasty rumors about her behind her back.

Only her older sister Arabelle, a quiet, stern, but loving woman helped to slow, if not stop, the ugly torture. When the stress became too much, Sophie would flee to her sister's room, quietly watching her slow, methodic work as an apprentice clothier. The two sisters would exchange few words, but the younger gradually began to help the older with her work and, after awhile, began to sew projects herself.

As the years continued to pass in strained peace, Sophie's parents grew more and more fond of their daughter prodigy, often being invited to this or that dinner with her mother or father along with other families and their budding children. The crimson-haired youth grew bored of these social events, tiring quickly of the constant, not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking by the adults, but didn't dare risk her parents' displeasure by disobeying them, though the irritation remained and, fanned by growing events, steadily grew.
Sophie's siblings gradually laid off their childish torment, though a more permanent, more invisible miasma of jealousy and ignoring settled over them, and her tenuous connections with each eventually dwindled to nothing, one by one. By now, Sophie was quite used to her siblings' feelings and had learned long ago to give it no heed. "They're envious," her father had said, with something akin to pride in his voice, "And well they should be." Sophie lived for her daily magic lessons, her Arabelle's company, and her parent's praise and recognition, nothing more. Her world consisted of studies and self improvement, though as the years passed and she unlocked one arcane mystery after another, the itch of impatience in her soul grew.

Her mother was growing wary of the speed of her advancement, the greed in which she lapped up spell after spell. They were withholding valuable knowledge from her, she could see it. And as her parents fiddled with trivial things such as suitors and libraries and day to day routines, she longed to know more. As her lessons began to hold off, and she found herself with more free time, she took to reading books from her father's home library. When he wasn't looking, she would sneak into his study (after silently deactivating his numerous alarms) and steal away powerful books on Mythals, the denizens of the Planes, less than savory spells, and other such information. At other times she would visit Arabelle's workplace and learn the art of weaving clothing and magic together.

At the age of 54, Sophie met an aged Moon Elf wizard who lived tucked away in a small, unobtrusive tower on the outer skirts of town and, after some conversation, she began to secretly visit his home for private training in the magic that Sophie's mother didn't seem to dare to reveal.

Life continued in this fashion for several more years as Sophie soaked up knowledge and strength at an even quicker rate, though she made sure to hide it from her increasingly suspicious parents and teachers. She grew ever more impatient with her family and claustrophobic of the isolated life she was finding herself in. She had read about thousands of years of history about the entire continent. For once, she wanted to go out and see it for herself, meet other heroes, see the things that Evereska lacked.
At the age of 82 the hard reality of the life she longed for crashed in on her all at once. It happened after another late night lesson from her Moon Elf tutor. She had mastered a particularly vexing spell and, as reward, was given a magic dagger. Flattered by her tutor's generosity, she strapped the sheath within her robes, thanked him profusely, and left, promising to see him another day. As she returned home and entered the house, tired but pleased by her progress, a magical alarm sounded.

Stunned, the young wizard tried throwing counter spells, but it wouldn't cease. Burning with shame, she stood framed by the doorway as the entire family quickly arrived at the front door, woken abruptly from sleep. At last, her parents approached the scene. With a flick of his hand, the father silenced the alarm.

"I couldn't sleep, I needed a bit of a walk to clear my head," Sophie blurted out. "What is around your waist?" her mother said, as if her daughter hadn't spoken. Sophie raised both slender eyebrows. "I don't know what you mean," she said.
Angrily, her father strode toward her, ripping back her outer robe. The dagger and it's sheath were revealed. "That alarm goes off only if it senses stolen items. Three days ago, a dagger was stolen from the Ilithiel family home. The dagger itself was infused with black magic and, very likely, cursed." he spat.

"I did not take this dagger," Sophie said, drawing herself up indignantly. "It was a gift from a friend." Her father narrows his eyes. "Then you'll show me where they live." The youth swallowed, eyes and cheeks burning. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked out the door, her parents behind her. When she thought they weren't looking, she fumbled with the catch of the belt, trying to untie it from her waist. It wouldn't budge.
When the trio arrived at last outside the old wizard's tower, a think shadow was crouched in the entrance.As they approached it turned to them, then to Sophie, red eyes gleaming in a seething mass of black. It laughed. "Expecting your kind old Moon Elf friend, elf? Is it about that dagger? Yes, it wasn't mine, but it absorbed fel magic well. I thought it would be a fitting parting gift for my dear student. In one month's time, if that dagger is not removed, all of its stores of abyssal magic will rush into you, turning you into, well, something like me. Enjoy the Abyss my little mage." it hissed and, before any of them could raise a spell to vanish it, it had crawled up the tower and vanished into the night.
The trio returned home in silence, Sophie nearly paralyzed with fear and shame. Her father cursed her loudly, his rage unrelentless. Tomorrow morning, he promised, after the dagger was removed, she would be ruthlessly punished for her deception and carelessness. All of her carefully laid plans and studying would be scrutinized and revealed, Sophie realized with a jolt. Even worse, her studies would be ceased. She wanted to flee, to get the cursed dagger off her waist, to sleep for three days straight. Her perfect world was crumbling around her. And, as they arrived home, it got even worse.
Outside their doors were a dozen elves in dark robes. Before her parents could stop her, Sophie fled to the other side of the house. Somehow they had found out about her mistake. But she could not, would not, let them find her. She needed to escape, that much she knew, and as soon as possible. With years of practice, she snuck through the back entrance of the home, fleeing to her room. She grabbed her money, her walking staff, her sturdy walking boots and, as she was deciding where to put her small staches of spell components, her sister quietly walked in. In her hands was a belt that she said was filled with pockets and supplies for the road. It had been meant for a human customer, but Arabelle felt that her sister would need it more. Eyes stinging with tears, she took the belt, strapped it about her waist above the dagger, hugged her sister, and fled the house. Fueled by adrenaline, fatigue, and fear, she didn't stop running until she had arrived at the outer gates of the city and, for the first time, beyond them.

For the first time, Sophie was using the skills she had only read about in books and practiced in theory. All the adventuring tips and warnings were thrust into her hands all at once. It had seemed so much fun in storybooks and lore but now, stuck in the middle of it, it seemed like more work and discomfort than anything. Gone was her feather bed and sumptuous meals and quiet routine. But Sophie knew she didn't have time to deliberate on this startling realization. She wasn't sure if any city guards would try to come after her, or how important the dagger was. She wasn't sure at all what she was doing or what she should do, but she knew she needed to put as much distance between her and Evereska as soon as possible and wait until the smoke had died down.

And of course, her cursed dagger didn't help matters. After a few days of running, she spent half a day trying every spell in her book to get the dagger off without success. Disconcerted, she decided to forget about it until she could get to a public healer in a city she went to. As she distracted herself with deciding what she was going to eat that day, find a safe place to sleep, and decide a direction to head in, she did her best to ignore the small patch of darkness that was quietly growing in the edge of her mind.
As days of traveling passed, and Sophie trekked further southwest towards the main road, she grew weaker and more irritable. She missed her comfortable home and bed and was constantly hungry and, every once in awhile, would black out for hours at a time. After more than three weeks since her escape from Evereska, she finally made it to the main road. Heartened, she started trekking east, only a few miles from a small town and healer -- and promptly collapsed.

She woke up days later, weak as a kitten, her whole body aching and, with a start, realized that her dagger was not on here. She sat up, a motion that sent her ears ringing, and looked about her. An older woman was quietly reading a huge, leather-bound tome through small spectacles, but looked up at the sound. Smiling, she got up and walked over to the young elf, bidding her to lie down again, and began to feed her mouthfuls of soup. As she fed her young patient, the old lady -- a human named Rilla -- explained how she had found Sophie lying on the ground while she was out looking for herbs and spell components. She had taken the elf back to her small cottage and, after a night of grueling spellwork, had cracked the dagger's curse and pried it off her. She gave the dagger back to Sophie, assuring her it was now harmless and, in fact, a powerful charm against certain types of magics.
Over the next few days, Sophie, though distrustful of friendly mages, gradually came to respect the powerful old woman, telling her why she had been where she was. As her strength came back, the woman trained her in other aspects of magic, giving her powerful curse-breaking spells. When she was stuck in bed, Sophie took to sewing clothes while she thought about her next step. In a few weeks time, and with a bit of guidance from Rilla, Sophie created a pair of magic slippers and a brilliantly-colored cloak that would help her get to where she needed to go.

After two months of nursing, training, and thinking, Sophie decided to continue heading west, where she could try to find a life along the Sword Coast or in one of the cities she passed. And, as she bid her mentor farewell, she found that she had other options as well. Bitten by a bit of wanderlust, Sophie traveled about the Western reaches of Faerun, finally able to see the long heard about distant realms with her own eyes.

She grew accustomed to living on the road, but never lost her love of feather pillows and a full stomach. She took to following rumors of powerful items, finding a love for all things magic, visiting library after library and absorbing the lore and information found in book after book. After years on the road, and obtaining even greater strength and knowledge, Sophie decides to return home at the age of 109. Upon entering her old home for the first time in nearly thirty years, she is met by a stern father and mother. Sophie quickly finds that thirty years has done nothing to diminish the shame that she helped to bring on the once revered family name. Her mother reveals that Arabelle, her kind sister, has helped to hide Sophie's tracks after she fled the house. Shamed and enraged, their father had denounced both sisters, banishing them from their home and disowning them from the family line. They had not heard word from her since she left.

Pressing her lips together, Sophie walked out of the house without a word. Now realizing how she was no longer welcome, she left the city. It no longer held any reason for her to stay. Her home, for now, would be the distant realms and the open road.

Character Sheet

Name: Sophira Veran
Race: Sun Elf
Age: 112
Height/Weight: 5'7 130 lb
Class/Levels: Wizard (9)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Gender: Female
Race: Sun Elf
Deity: Mystra
Class/levels: Wizard (9)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Representing Kat

Strength 13 (+1)
Dexterity 15 (+2)
Constitution 12 (+1)
Intelligence 19 (+4)
Wisdom 14 (+2)
Charisma 14 (+2)
Size: Medium
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 135 lb
Skin: Light Bronze
Eyes: Lionseye-Gold with Obsidian Flecks
Hair: Copper red, Wavy
Total Hit Points: 38
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 12 = 10 +2 [dexterity]
Touch AC: 12
Flat-footed: 10
Initiative modifier: +2 = +2 [dexterity]
Fortitude save: +4 = 3 [base] +1 [constitution]
Reflex save: +5 = 3 [base] +2 [dexterity]
Will save: +8 = 6 [base] +2 [wisdom]
Attack (handheld): +5 = 4 [base] +1 [strength]
Attack (unarmed): +5 = 4 [base] +1 [strength]
Attack (missile): +6 = 4 [base] +2 [dexterity]
Grapple check: +5 = 4 [base] +1 [strength]

Light load: 50 lb. or less
Medium load: 51-100 lb.
Heavy load: 101-150 lb.

Languages: Abyssal Auran Celestial Common Draconic Elven Goblin Infernal Undercommon
Dagger [1d4, crit 19-20/x2, range inc 10 ft., 1 lb., light, piercing]
Quarterstaff [1d6/1d6, crit x2, 4 lb., two-handed, bludgeoning]
Familiar: None
Feats:
Eschew Materials
Spell Focus (Enchantment)
Craft Magic Arms and Armor
Craft Wondrous Item
Scribe Scroll [free to wizard]
Silent Spell


Skill Key Ability Skill Modifier Ability Modifier Ranks
Appraise Int +4 +1.5 5.5
Balance Dex* +2 2
Bluff Cha +0.5 +2 2.5
Climb Str* +1 1
Concentration Con +1 +4 5
Craft_1 Int +4 4
Craft_2 Int +4 4
Craft_3 Int +4 4
Decipher Script Int +4 +4 8
Diplomacy Cha +2 +0.5 2.5
Disable Device Int +4 +0.5 4.5
Disguise Cha +2 2
Escape Artist Dex* +0.5 +2 2.5
Forgery Int +1 +4 5
Gather Information Cha +2 2
Heal Wis +1 +2 3
Hide Dex* +2 2
Intimidate Cha +2 +0.5 2.5
Jump Str* +1 1
Knowledge (arcana) Int +4 +6 10
Knowledge (architecture)Int +1 +4 5
Knowledge (dungeoneering) Int +4 +4 5
Knowledge (geography) Int +4 +2 6
Knowledge (history) Int +4 +2 6
Knowledge (local) Int +4 +1 5
Knowledge (nature) Int +4 +2 6
Knowledge (nobility) Int +4 +2 6
Knowledge (religion) Int +4 +1 5
Knowledge (planes) Int +4 +2 6
Listen Wis 5 = +2 +1 +2[elf] 5
Move Silently Dex* +2 +1 3
Open Lock Dex +2 +05 2.5
Perform_1 Cha +2 2
Perform_2 Cha +2 2
Perform_3 Cha +2 2
Perform_4 Cha +2 2
Perform_5 Cha +2 2
Profession Wis +2 +1 3
Ride Dex +2 2
Search Int 6 = +4 +2[elf] 6
Sense Motive Wis +2 +0.5 2.5
Sleight of Hand Dex* +2 +0.5 2.5
Spellcraft Int +4 +8 +2[Know] 14
Spot Wis +2 +1 +2[Elf] 5
Survival Wis +2 +1 3
Swim Str** +1 1
Use Magic Device Cha +2 +3 5
Use Rope Dex Dex +2 2

• = check penalty for wearing armor
  

This character also has 3 ranks in Speak Languages.
Spellcraft >=5 ranks gives +2 on use magic device checks on scrolls.
Racial -Elf:

• +2 dexterity / -2 constitution (already included)
  
• Immune to magical sleep
  
• +2 racial bonus to saves vs. enchantments
  
• Low-light vision
  
• Proficient with longsword, rapier, longbow & shortbow
  
• +2 racial bonus on listen, search, and spot checks
  
• Notice secret doors
  

1. WizardFamiliar / Alertness, etc.
   
2. Bonus Feats (already included)
   
3. High intelligence gains bonus spells daily
   

Class HP rolled
Level 1: Wizard 4
Level 2: Wizard 2
Level 3: Wizard 4
Level 4: Wizard 4 +1 to intelligence
Level 5: Wizard 1
Level 6: Wizard 4
Level 7: Wizard 4
Level 8: Wizard 4 +1 to charisma
Level 9: Wizard 2

Spellbook

Zero-level Wizard spells: 4 per day

First-level Wizard spells: 5 (4+1) per day

Second-level Wizard spells: 5 (4+1) per day

Third-level Wizard spells: 4 (3+1) per day

Fourth-level Wizard spells: 3 (2+1) per day

Fifth-level Wizard spells: 1 per day

Equipment and Inventory

Solanae's Equipment:

Shoulders: Wings of Flying (Dull Crimson and Gold Cloak) (Accessed through Elven command word "Firewings") - When the wearer speaks the command word, the cloak turns into a pair of bat or bird wings that empower her to fly with a speed of 60 feet (good maneuverability).

Waist: Belt of Hidden Pouches (Accessed through Common command word "Access") - Contains a total of thirty pockets (with only ten being visible at any time) that function as small bags of holding. Each pocket can hold 1/2 cubic foot or 5 pounds of nonliving matter. Pockets can only be accessed with the command word, and items can be put in the belt simply by pressing them against it.

- Sling bullets

- Slippers of Spider Climbing - When worn, a pair of these slippers enable movement on vertical surfaces or even upside down along ceilings, leaving the wearer’s hands free. Her speed is 20 feet. Severely slippery surfaces—icy, oiled, or greased surfaces— make these slippers useless. The slippers can be used for 10 minutes per day, split up as the wearer chooses.

- Spell Components, including small versions of her spellbook

- Survival Items (Flint/Tinder, Bits of rope, flasks of water etc.)

Arms: Bracers of Wind (Accessed through Auran command word "zephyr" and turned off by "calm") - Upon activation, summons winds around you that swell and surge, imposing a -2 penalty on ranged attacks made against you. In addition, when you use a ranged weapon you gain a +1 competence bonus on the attack roll.

Left Ring: Ring of Greater Counterspells - Can hold a 1st through 6th level spell that automatically counters a spell cast at the wearer, instantly negating it. Secondary ability also allows a spellcaster to manually attempt to counter any spell being cast with a greater dispel magic counterspell. (Secondary ability accessed through Elven command word "Disperse")
Main Hand: Dagger of Defiance (+1 Dagger, +3 Save vs. Enchantment, Save vs. Fear)
Ranged Weapon: Sling

Wishlist

---

• • Body: Robe of the Inferno - +4 AC. When commanded, four fiery orbs appear and circle about the waist, providing light equivalent to a torch and no affecting any of the wearer's motions. Two times a day an orb can be sent toward a target which explode on contact, giving 8d6 fire damage and dazzling all creatures around it for 1 round. (Accessed through Ignan command word
  • or Body: Robe of the Archmagi - +5 armor bonus to AC. Spell Resistance 18. +4 resistance bonus on all saving throws. +2 enchancement bonus on caster level checks made to overcome spell resistance.
  • or Body: Robe of Enfusing - +1 Deflection Bonus. +1/- Magic Resistance. +5 Knowledge (Arcana). +1 Intelligence.

• • Face: Third Eye Clarity - Once per day negate a daze, stun, confuse, or fascination effect on you.
  • or Face: Third Eye Freedom - Once per day activate for one round of free movement.