Alma Dietrich

The Whore of Babylon

• 

  Tu qui Deum exspectas, ne timeas, et ossa tua solvet.
  You who awaits God, do not fear, and he will free your bones.

  Theme

• Name: Age: Gender: Species: Nationality: Hair: Eye Colour: Complexion: Height: Body Type:

  Alma Dietrich 320 Female Blood Witch (Human) English Dark Chestnut Near-Black Ivory, sometimes sickly 5'5 Slim, straight, lacking curves

  
  
  

  † External Traits: Modest Cryptic Wise Composed

  † Hidden Traits: Potent Anger Conflicted
• The Burning of Alma Dietrich

  
  
  

  The final witch trial of 1717 has been detailed by countless writers and painters alike, and has dissolved into nought more than an old ghost story. Each story tells the tale of Alma Dietrich, who spat at the crucifix she was nailed to, and who was set alight by her peers at the foot of Turvey Cathedral. Alma had been raised mostly by her father; a successful plague doctor who had served throughout the 17th century. Through his shadow, she grew to know the world of blight, and was appointed by the church as an apothecary who would soon become renowned throughout the city region in England. But her name inevitably became known to the spiteful, and dark rumours began to spread. There were whispers of sorcery and deep rituals, and mobs would soon scream of kidnappings and blood sacrifices. The clergy could take no more, and Alma was dragged naked through the streets by the church she had learned to dearly love. When knelt before the pyre, the woman confessed to no sin, and instead spat at the crucifix which had condemned her.

  
  The flames climbed violently that night, and the smoke billowed in all it's blackened glory. The screams of Alma were truly harrowing, but as the fire tore through her mortality, she saw something deeper within the flame which climbed up her skin. Amidst the inferno, Alma heard a voice.
  
  "Do you fear death, Alma Dietrich?"
  
  Silence fell. No one could hear the screams of the apothecary, nor could they see a husk through the flames. The crowd, satisfied by their actions yet deterred by the smell, began to disperse into the night. But then there came a sound; distant first, that grew in its cacophony that it could be heard at the very of edges of the region. No one ran, no one screamed. In an instant there was only fire, and then...
  
  Nothing.
  
  
• Present Day

  
  

  

  
  Unfortunately, Alma never quite rediscovered her niche in the world. With little more to go on than her innate affinity for medicine, the brooding witch instead took to a life of peculiar mixology and healing; a pseudo version of the life she had once known. Her odd chemistry has attracted a plethora of clients, ranging from the distraught family members of the terminally ill to vicious strangers seeking the most terrible of poisons. For a while after her initial awakening, Alma once took coin in exchange for conjuring curses; this is a practice long abandoned, perhaps in her hope for atonement.
  
  Recent run-ins with religious fanatics have pushed Alma into an unsettled routine of wandering, fearing for the lives of those who keep trying to detain her.
  
  

  † Blood Magic

  
  Being reborn from the flames three centuries ago, Alma's body has become a vessel for a darker entity, which along with its whispers has given her a near perfect affinity for fire and blood. Through wounds on her skin, be they self-inflicted or not, Alma is able to control her blood outside of her body; forming them into frightful whips and blades. As such, Alma is able to prevent herself from bleeding out, should she regain control of her blood in time. When using these talents, her skin will drain of most colour and her eyes will burn a bright amber. Throughout time, depictions of the witch have shown Alma to often bear a pair of skeletal wings; constructed from the blood drawn from her shoulder blades.
  
  The witch's affinity for fire is much more wild, however, as it seems as though she is only able to tap into it whilst in fits of anger or upset. Her conjurations can range anywhere from small sparks to whirling infernos; worsening as her distress or pain increases. The most extreme case she can recall took place on her last mortal day, where the flames ignited by her agony reduced her assailants to ash.
  
  Alma's "condition" deprives her of a human sleeping pattern; rather, she will remain awake for weeks at a time before entering a period of rest lasting up to three days.