Feodor Bloodrose
the Rusted Antler Count
Born from the gift of God and the bloom that drinks the dead — a name that roots in holy soil and feeds on what rots below.
Power
You call the bones of the earth to pierce the living — roots and antlers erupt from the ground, but every summon costs a memory you hold dear, and you have forgotten more than most remember.
- Familiar
- A blind stag beetle named Moth
- Bloodline
- House Thornfall
They say you were never a child, that you crawled from a barrow with antlers already budding. You remember the weight of snow on your first kill, and how the ground drank it as if it never happened. They say you laugh when the church bells ring, and they are not wrong.