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Nereva

    Age: Almost two centuries
    Race: Elf (Aberrant)
    Alignment: Chaotic Good
    Height: Between 5-6ft (1.5m-1.8m)
    Weight: 130Ibs-135Ibs (59kg-61kg)
    Complexion: Albino
    Hair: Mid-back length, Choppy Bangs, Snow White
    Eyes: Pink


  • There was once a traveler from a far off land who, when given the opportunity, would tell of a secluded and hidden Cathedral, and the people who lived therein. The Kaimelar, they called themselves—a religious group that believed all in existence was a dream, a vision born within the mind of their eternally sleeping Goddess. However, there was one Kaimelar in particular that stood out from the rest; an elven woman by the name of Nereva, who was said to have forsaken the Kaimelar way by seeking enlightenment through profane, heretical means.

    She was said to possess a lithe figure, with sleek and well toned muscles that would shift and flex beneath her ghostly, pale form in a strange, almost unnatural manner. Her hair, white as winter snow, spilled over her shoulders like an ivory waterfall; and thick, pale brows rested above eyes that always flittered from one thing to the next, as if she was always looking for something, always seeing something others couldn't—only to lose it immediately after.

    There were murmurs within the Cathedral about Nereva. That her body was an inhuman, perverse thing; that her limbs would occasionally bend in unnatural ways, or that her muscles and organs could sometimes be seen shifting inside of her. Maybe it was the Kaimelar letting their imaginations run wild. Maybe there was nothing wrong with Nereva at all. Or maybe, they were right, and Nereva did something terrible and became something monstrous as a result.

  • Background

    In the beginning, there was a dream; a great, unknowable Goddess had laid down her head to sleep and, in doing so, created all life as we know it—or that was what the Kaimelar believed. The Kaimelar were a religious group that sought to achieve enlightenment through the study and understanding of the Dream of Creation; with the use of their Oneiromancy—magic centered around dreams—they hoped to study the Dreamscape and the mind in hopes that doing so might bring them closer to understanding their Goddess and her own dream. So learned were these strange folk that they found a mastery over the mind that few before had managed, and used their unique magics to tend to the dreams of others, easing them of their burdens and, hopefully, granting them some amount of peace as well.

    Occasionally, missionaries would be sent out to spread the word of their Goddess to other races and people—not to convert them, as one might believe, but to use their magic to help those across the world. Nereva started off as one of these missionaries, and for years she traveled the world, using her Oneiromancy to provide a sort of dream therapy to the many troubled minds she came across.

    For a time, this simple act of altruism was enough; Nereva found purpose in aiding others—those who were unsound of mind, afraid, or just distressed—all benefited in some way from her visitations. But the Dreamscape was a dangerous place, and in time she, herself, would start to have the most peculiar and unsettling nightmares. At first, they were just disquieting, though as time marched on, they progressively grew more and more horrible—to the point where not even waking would be enough to completely end them.

    She began to fear sleep. Nightmares of violet stars would plague her nights, featureless monstrosities would sing, would shriek her name in a vast cacophony of voices, each one sounding more pained and jubilant than the last as the stars above swirled, collided, and danced across a yawning tear in the fabric of her mind. Nereva, however, was nothing if not strong-willed—while her own mind was breaking, there were many others out there who still needed her assistance. She delved into her faith, giving herself to her Goddess completely in hopes that some peace may be offered her.

    She stood against the sea of madness, even as her eyes turned away from within and focused instead on the Stars; they would speak to her, their ancient, guttural tongues whispering unspeakable secrets and mutterings not meant for mortal ears. Nereva, blinded by her reliance on faith alone, had failed to notice of the corruption taking root within. A search for enlightenment had evolved into one of escape, pacifism and healing had changed into violence and temptation, and a love for the Goddess had grown into an obsession with the Dream and the Cosmos.

    In the end, Nereva wouldn't even know how she had been broken. She still cared for the well-being of those who suffered, in her own way, but her help seldom came without a price—one that was often more steep than it first seemed.

  • Personality

    Nereva possesses a whimsical and ethereal disposition, and can spend much of her time in her own fantastical musings. She often finds herself getting lost in her vivid imagination, perceiving the world around her through a lens of surrealism and wonder that often leads her into thinking up conspiracy and falsehoods.

    Beneath her dreamlike demeanor lies a disconcerting madness, as one will quickly come to realize, for Nereva's grasp on reality is tenuous at best. Her mind frequently drifts between moments of lucidity and distorted perceptions, and her words often carry those perceptions in a blend of fragmented thoughts and fevered delusions that can leave those around her bewildered and wary.

    Nereva's madness has not extinguished her sense of compassion, however, though it manifests itself in an unorthodox manner. Nereva, at her core, embodies a peculiar blend of fragility and indomitable will that marks her as an unstable force, capable of both immense kindness and unpredictable aggression.

    Nereva's fragmented mind, enigmatic musings, and benevolent yet erratic actions make her either a source of fascination or caution for those who cross her path, for while she always means well, the choices she makes, and the methods she employs, can often times lead to greater tragedies.

  • Gallery