An Ayleid (Author: LittleMate)

Two shimmering silver eyes full of unshed tears stare back at you from the puddle at your feet before you slump back against the cool wall in despair. Your light blonde hair cascading around your sharp angular face, you were told you were a very beautiful woman once or twice in the past, but that would be a far cry now in your current state. Your lightly tanned hands wiped away the tears of the past, trying to settle your nerves you focus on the myriad of thoughts racing around in your mind. Modest bosom heaving as you took deep ragged breaths, your threadbare slippered feet poking out from underneath your white and silver-trimmed robe. Finally, after gods know how long, did your delicate hands stop shaking and you managed to catch one of the runaway thoughts. An ocean of rage boiled over and washed away any doubts or self-pity.

All of this was wrong! Your memory was admittedly hazy after so much time spent in Aetherium, but you knew it to be true in your heart. The gods turned on you! Well, they fought valiantly for you before they capitulated to the foreign invaders from another plane and your own patron led the genocide. You can even remember the silly reason your people died. 'The right to copy'. How foolish was that? You spent a good part of your seminary in the scriptorium copying manuscripts to support your temple, yet somehow there was forbidden copying that even the gods could not do? All you can remember from that day was that it was like any other. The sky themselves roiled and were torn asunder. A beam of pure divine power, whiter than white itself, deleted everything in its path, you can even vaguely remember numbers somehow swirling about the horrific vortex. How silly of you.

Your tears were not only shed for your people, your family, or even yourself, but for the temple you now resided in. Former temple now. It was crumbling, in a severe dilapidated state. You could see past the broken stone pews that the altar lay in shambles, mighty cracks running through its foundation. The clothe atop was so moth eaten and rotten that only by memory could you recall it being a shining beacon of silver beauty when the starlight shown down upon it. Struggling to stand up, you wipe away the dust and decay from your robes. With a hesitant reach and the passing of a single heartbeat did your character sheet show up like before! Thank the Stars!

Maeva Vaelius
Level 4 Ayleid Acolyte
[Elf, Priestess, Noble, Explicit]
Experience to level up - 400
Attributes
Strength 12, Dexterity 25, Endurance 11, Perception 29, Wisdom 35+2, Intelligence 32+2, Charisma 31+2, Appearance 30
Skills
Athleticism 10 , Dodge 10, Lore 17, Occult 28, Presence 22, Religion 30
Crafting Skills
Enchanting 11, Ethereal 16, Scribing 17
Feats
Faerie Fire - As a member of the fey race you have access to an instinctual magic. Subject is surrounded in pale light, cannot become invisible, and attacks towards this subject have an extra +5% chance to hit.
Acolyte - You have not only submitted yourself to a holy cause, but pledged to be one of the future shepherds of the faithful. All holy magics cast time is reduced by (player level/4)% and costs (player level/4)% less mana, gets basic weapon proficiency with staves.
Star's Blessing - Stars are the holy beacon's to both your race and religion, having pledged yourself before them you receive their blessings when applicable. When in the presence of starlight you receive +2 WIS/INT/CHA, 10% more movement speed, and truesight.
Iconography - You can create Welkynd Stones from glass and quicksilver, which collects and stores up to 100 mana when left out in starlight for 8 hours. Welkynd Stones are destroyed upon being fully drained, except when used by those in the cleric or priest classes who can recharge them. Those who have been ordained can attempt to graft the stone in a mineral garden. Can also create randomized Lesser Magical Tomes in a Scriptorium from paper and ink.
Known Spells
Confession - Attacks the targets WIS. If successful either forces the target to confession out loud to a secret 'sin' (interpretation based on casters religion) or tell the truth when asked a question by the caster.
Starbolt - A small shard of concentrated starlight that does minor holy damage and minor fire damage, ×2 damage against undead, costs 25% more mana during the day.

What in all that is holy is this new glowing contraption? Your character sheet of old was plain, boring, and far less wordy. Wait, wait, wait! You lean in to take a closer look at the slanted writing. Player level divided by four? Great! Absolutely great! Your spells are 1% cheaper and faster to cast! At level forty there still would only be a 10% reduction! At least you still remembered how to create your people's holy stones, or one of them at least, and manuscripts. Confession sounds like it is entirely useless spell for combat, and you doubt you are going to kidnap anyone soon.

Glancing around the temple, you note at least the skylights are still there. Well, more like the holes are there as the glass, both plain and stained, lie shattered all over the temple floor. Trying to avoid stepping on any glass which would surely cut through your thin slippers, you walk closer to the altar before putting your palms on its cool surface. Not a flicker of the beyond. While that would normally be a devastating thing, you do not want the gods attention right now. Or ever for that matter! With a shake of your head, you reverently cleared off what broken glass or debris you could from its surface. A sad smile on your face, hair falling forward as you bow once before leaning back up.

Something feels out of place and you quickly move to one side, barely managing to duck behind one of the few remaining full pillars. You hear an odd shuffling sound coming from somewhere near the entrance to the temple. Peering around, your heart breaks when you see a former monk with his arms limp by his side, littered with bitemarks. One of his pointed ears chewed off, foot dragging behind him as he groaned to himself. Not only did the gods cause your peoples extinction, but now they tease you by making them undead. Your holy sanctuary profaned by your sworn enemies. You will never stand for that, not while you draw breath!