- Spellcasting: Spell Save DC: 13 • Spell Attack Bonus: +3. Finishing a long rest restores any expended spell slots. Cast a cleric spell as a ritual if that spell has the ritual tag and the spell is prepared. Holy symbol acts as a spellcasting focus.
- Spells Prepared: 5 (Wis bonus + cleric level)
- Cantrips: Light, Thaumaturgy, Spare the Dying, Resistance
- 1st-level: Burning Hands, Faerie Fire, Cure Wounds, Detect Evil and Good, Healing Word, Sanctuary, Shield of Faith
Divine Domain (Light)
- Bonus cantrip: Light
- Warding Flare: When you are attacked by a creature that you can see within 30 ft., use reaction to impose disadvantage on the attack roll.
- An attacker that can't be blinded is immune.
- Domain spells: 1st Level: Burning Hands, Faerie Fire
- These spells are always prepared, and do not count against the number of spells that can be prepared each day
- Channel Divinity: 1 use between short/long rest
- Turn Undead: As an action, can present holy symbol and speak a prayer censuring the undead. Each undead that can see or hear you within 30 ft. of you makes a WIS saving throw. If failed, the creature is turned for 1 minute or until it takes any damage.
- Radiance of the Dawn: As an action, any magical darkness within 30 ft. is dispelled and each hostile creature must make a CON saving throw. Failure means 2d10 + 2 radiant damage, 1/2 as much on a success.
- A creature that has total cover from user is not affected.
- Position of Privilege: Thanks to noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are.
- Coins: x cp • x sp • x ep • x gp • x pp • Other coins: x
- Gems: x
- Clerical garb, priest's pack, holy symbol of Lathander (around neck),
- In Hand: x
- Worn: Scale mail (disadvantage to Stealth checks)
- Belt: Mace
- Back: Light crossbow
- Bolts (10)
- xxx: (x gp/day). x
I am a son of Crommor. I was raised to believe in the light and power of Lathander, and I was raised to believe that there was nothing more beautiful than the bright curves of a brass lantern, the pleasant sonorous sounds of a horn, the shine of a new flute.
But I found beauty elsewhere - the houses of saececraft. I longed to join their ranks when my body grew, lithe and lovely. My mother Eilonne did not approve of my interests, and bade me to return to the studies of Lathander, that I may one day follow in the footsteps of her elder brother Neren and become a monastic. My father, Harman Crommor, hoped I might follow in his steps and become a great brassier like his uncle Ghodus had made him. But he never made me feel ashamed of my interests. He just hoped for me to grow out of them.
And yet, I still found beauty elsewhere. The sights of the saece filled my mind like little else did. I prayed nightly to Lathander to give me the ability to join their ranks when I reached the age of majority.
Growth and Disappointment
Lathander instead caused my muscles to bulge, and my face and skin to grow hair. I did not grow up lithe and lovely. Instead, I grew up bulky, hairy, and nothing like the saececrafters I idolized. For years, I spent every silver piece I had buying tinctures and ointments to try and rid myself of the unwanted, tried starving myself, tried praying that Lathander take this unwanted body from me so that I may be free of the pain I felt at my body’s betrayal of my desires.
In my 16th year, I went one morning to the temple and prayed that Lathander would forgive me and lead me into His light for what I was to do. I then left, found my way down to Dock Ward, and threw myself into the harbor. As the water crested over my head, and I heard the shouts of some of the dock workers, I closed my eyes and prayed again for forgiveness.
I little remember what happened between then and waking in my bedroom, feverish and with my mother and father alternately yelling, crying, and hugging me. However, what I do remember is a great light surrounding me, and a road stretching before me, forking in two directions. I looked down the left-hand road, and found myself strong, wearing plate mail the likes of which I’d never seen before, holding a shield in my hand and shouting at an unseen horror bearing down on me. The right-hand road showed me slender, with delicate hands working on intricate brass latches and valves. It showed me with the hints of color on my fingers, and I knew that I was practicing saececraft, but involved in work that held no interest to me in order to finance my love.
I remember looking towards the sun, sitting low in the sky between the two roads, and the warm, gruff voice of Lathander saying that I should choose a path. I looked down both again, then looked at myself, and walking through the grass that lay between the roads. I heard the delighted laughter of Lathander ringing in my ears… and I woke.
Beauty and Blood
I took to my studies with my grandmother with a vengeance after that, and worked hard in the brasserie with my father, so I might grow stronger still. In my 20th year, I took my vows with Lathander, and became a novice of the church. By night, after worship services were over, I would sneak out of the monastery and attend the services of the saece houses: Ilindar, Marvandra, Whitecloak… Redtress. I loved the Redtress saece the most, and yet I hated them the most as well. I wanted what I couldn’t have, and it galled me as much as it entranced me.
In my 23rd year, I met my first lover, Lorran Ildiver. He came from the south, and taught me of the Sisters of Iniquity, a saece group that reveled in acting as a sort of holy jape, taking in those who could never pass as a true saece performer and showing them how to use that to take down those who saw too much seriousness in the temples. He showed me saece that would work with my features, and helped me learn the basics of creating my own ecclesiastical mimicry. That same year, he and I were ambushed walking back, arm in arm, by thugs who wished nothing more than to kill those who found pleasure in the arms of their own gender.
Lorran was killed, daggers through his back and throat. I was almost killed, but Lathander decided the time was right, and His light spilled from the symbol of Him I kept on a leather thong around my neck, which I used to blind the scoundrels before I swept up a club one held and used it to soundly thrash them. I wept, holding Lorran’s body against me while the guards made their way to the crime scene.
I was taken under the wing of Brother Thacen, and taught the ways of the clerical arm of Lathander. I prayed daily, and found that the knowledge of spells became a part of my communications with Lathander. His light was determined to shine through me, and I took it upon myself to bring His light to the world. At the same time, I began lay-preaching to the common as Abbess Aeronda Cyda-Kaushun, deep red lips in a stark white face, long nails and blood-red wimple and cassock. I did not mention any gods to those who met Sister Aeronda. I just spoke with them, mocked the high holiness of whatever temple was being particularly obnoxious, and let the House of Redtress know that a new sister was in town. They welcomed me with open arms.
I had found my path.
I know my father loves me, and I love him greatly in return. Unlike my mother, he accepted all of my varied and sundry differences from him. I know he wishes I'd gone into brasscraft, but what father doesn't want his only male child to follow in his footsteps? All I can say is that he makes me proud to be his son, and I hope I bring honor to House Crommor.
Mother is a different story. I always knew my sister Lenetta was her favorite, but since I reached manhood Mother has decided I'm rather an embarassment to her as a woman. First it was because of my interest in saece, then it was my very public attempt (and the ensuing scandal) to kill myself. The final blow was when she caught me kissing Lorran. I think were I to attempt to throw myself into the sea again, she'd gift me with rocks to ensure I stayed down. Lathander forgive me, but I'll not be sad to see her go.
Grandmother is an interesting old bird. Her tongue is whip-crack sharp and swift, and she has reached the age where concern about the fallout for what she says no longer concerns her. She is a proper noblewoman, all nose in the air and tut-tutting things that are improper.
She was also the first to help me figure out just how to apply pigment properly to my cheeks and eyes as a young boy, and she threatened to have Lathander blind me if I were to be anything less than the best priest I could be. I hold her especially dear to my heart.
|Lenette and Harmona Crommor|
Lenette, named after my maternal grandmother, is my eldest sister, and she is very much my mother's daughter. Harmona, named after my father, is the middle child, and she is very much my father's daughter. The two are only a year apart, and yet they couldn't be more different. Lenetta is betrothed to a man who is part of House Ilzimmer, and she is incessant with her talk of how much of an event the wedding and consequent alliance between the two houses will be. She speaks to me rarely, which is how I like it.
Harmona, on the other hand, we're thick as thieves. She often gives me ideas for things to say as Aeronda, and has never missed an appearance of the fair Abbess. I often wonder if she'd make a good candidate to become a part of my Abbey, mostly because she couldn't give two shits about religion even if Lathander Himself were to come down and smack her with the sun.
|Mother Abbess Syreena|
Head of Sisters
I've never seen the Mother Abbess without her makeup on, looking as imperious as only a Mother Abbess could. Or, at least I don't think I have. I'd imagine if I heard a man swearing half as much as she does, I'd figure out it was her immediately. She has saved me from my own darker muses more times than I can count. And she is a fierce saece.
Max and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, though my mother (as usual) sniffed at how I'd befriended "an unkempt wild beast of a common boy". He was the first to tease me for being interested in saececraft, but he was also the first to beat a boy bloody for picking on me about it. In many ways, I do love him, and he has grown to be a fine boat worker. Had he turned out like me, I believe I'd have asked him to be my heart's love. Alas, he and my sister Harmona are smitten with each other. I'm very happy for them, but envious of my sister. Such is life.
|Brother Thacen Harriman|
I look up to Brother Thacen, though I know he is growing old and may soon see his final dawn. I do not agree with him in all things, especially his belief that the saece are somehow involved in the downfall of society. He has often tangled with Syreena, and has yelled at Aeronda once or twice, calling her a harlot and a mockery of the sanctity of womanhood. However, he truly believes in Lathander's light, and he is a good priest. I just wish I could share all of myself with him, so that he might understand.