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Council of Thieves - Bastards of Erebus
Character Creation Guide (General):
* I am looking for a backstory submission and an outline of the mechanics you plan on using (class/race/alignment for sure, then maybe stats, starting feats, etc). I don't expect or require a full character sheet or profile be created for this, feel free to wait till you're accepted if you'd like. I know I hate creating a fully fleshed out character only to be passed up. If you want to do a full build or profile, by all means I'm not stopping you. Although see the next point.
* I am looking for a solid backstory submission for your character. This will have more weight with me than a fully completed character sheet. Mechanics can be taught, good writing and creativity can't. Please don't take the time to build a full character sheet and then only submit 2 sentences about who they are. This game is 10% mechanics, and 90% creative fun in my opinion, so show me that creative fun. :D
Character Creation Guide (Mechanics):
* Everyone starts at 1st level. 20 point buy, Max HP, Avg starting gold for your class.
* Races: All core. Additionally I will allow 1 of the PC's to be tiefling. I am open to non-core races although keep in mind I'll want to see a strong backstory to justify the race selection. I want the majority of the party to be "core" but will consider others, keep in mind my preferences though. I tell them to you for a reason.
* Classes: Pretty much anything Paizo published including Core, and APG (and all associated Archetypes). If you have a strong desire to play something in the UM or UC, feel free to offer up the character backstory etc... but keep in mind I tell you my preferences for a reason.
* Alignment: This is a fiendish game, so choose alignment carefully. No Evil characters this time around. The Players Guide gives some good advice on this topic.
* Traits: You will have 2 traits. 1 must be a campaign trait from the Council of Thieves Player's Guide. Your traits are designed to affect your backstory, so justify your decisions in said backstory please.
General Game Guidelines:
*Read the players guide first please. It's free, it's short, and is a great resource.
*A big one is consistent constancy, and that's probably a real thing. What do I mean? I mean 2-3 posts per day. I demand this posting rate with all the rigidity of a father, husband, and full-time bread winner with two jobs, so really I'm quite understanding, but the 2-3 is what I want. Weekends it's closer to 1 or 2 a day. Please inform me of extended absences as you will get replaced if all I hear is the sound of silence.
Good luck, have fun making characters, ask away if you have questions. I anticipate this process taking several days before final decisions are announced, but I'll be here, watching and commenting with the rest of you and will keep us all updated.
Thanks to DM Jonasty for unwittingly letting me borrow from his recruitment thread format :)
I'm currently running 2 pbp's and playing in 1. All of which I post consistently in. I'd like to play in another, as I feel like I'm always a dm and rarely a player.
I know that this a very urban AP, so I'd be interested in running a rogue type character. I'll propose a character concept in the near future. Mechanically, I'd be using core only because I'm not really that interested in a bunch of twinky mechanics. I like to keep my characters fairly simple in that regard and just focus on the story and rp of the character.
Ernesto is a young man who grew up in Westcrown. He was born into a well to do merchant family, but when he was 8 years old his parents were accused of heresy and treason for apparently secretly spreading propaganda against the Thrune Dynasty and the Church of Asmodeus. He managed to escape the household when the Dottori came to arrest his family, but his parents and older brother and sister were all arrested. His parents were imprisoned for some time. During this time his older sister and brother were taken in by the church of Cheliax. After three years of brain washing and indoctrination (Ernesto still insists foul magic was involved), they had become thoroughly loyal to the church and corrupted. It was then that his parents were brought forth from their cells to be executed, and it was his brother and sister, now acolytes of Asmodeus, that lit the pyres to burn them.
Since escaping his family's fate Ernesto has lived on the streets. He was taken in by a local street performer named Alfonse. Alfonse taught Ernesto various acrobatic tricks and how to juggle and generally be entertaining. He also taught him a few other useful tricks, like how to pick a pocket and stick a knife in someone when things go south. Fortunately, Ernesto has rarely had to resort to violence, and he doesn't particularly like it, though he does maintain a hatred of the Hell Knights and the church of Asmodeus.
Thanks to Alfonse, Ernesto has learned a little more about the rebellious movement that his parents were a part of. He was too young to understand their views when they were arrested, but now he understands and wishes to finish what they began.
The curse that has plagued Westrcrown's streets at night have made life difficult for Ernesto, but fortunately and his mentor have generally been able to earn enough money through their performances that they can afford a spot on an Inn floor at night.
|Octavia 'Tavi' Delphina|
Westcrown is dying; a masochistic cesspool willingly in the grips of a diabolical terror, screeching in terrible agony and pleasure. I have seen this city sink lower into depravity than any circle of Hell can hope to match in this lifetime, and tieflings, the disgusting infernal vermin, are at the heart of it all. Their very existence is a blight upon the world, a mockery of true, purposeful life. They are a symptom of a diseased society, painfully permitted to grow, which must be purged if Westcrown is to carry through its long, dark night and break its fever of dependence on slavery and decadence. This is the one truth that Jaiyana Nejem has always known.
Growing up in one of Westcrown’s poorer districts, Jaiyana had never been a stranger to the struggle of merely surviving, let alone attempting to thrive. Her neighborhood was filled with the destitute; freed slaves, halflings, tieflings, criminals. But her parents fought to elevate their position in life, striving to no end to be able to raise their daughter away from the filth-stained streets where murder and thievery were abundant and constant reminders of the true fragility of everyday existence. Even after her mother, Isabella, succumbed to the Devil Chills when Jaiyana was but a young thing, her father, a good, honest man (a rarity in a metropolis which prides itself on underhanded dealings), worked himself to the bone to provide for the two of them and stash away what he could, doing all sorts of menial labor from sweeping chimneys to picking up litter on behalf of the city for a few silvers’ meager pay.
By the time Jaiyana was eight years old, her father, Horatio, had saved up enough coin in an old boot beneath his bed that the duo could finally elevate themselves to a slightly better walk of life-the fruition of his life’s work. It was all destined to be for naught, unfortunately, for the night before their move to a better portion of the city word had apparently gotten around that Horatio had saved up a healthy sum, for a group of tiefling burglars broke in and ransacked the place, knifing Jaiyana’s beloved father to death before her very eyes and he valiantly fought to protect his daughter and their future well-being. The group stole away, cackling gleefully at their massive take for an easy robbery.
Then an orphan, the girl was to become a slave, the property of the state, until she reached adulthood. She was auctioned and won by bitter veteran guardsman, unable to work due to injury in the field and cast aside by the city which formerly employed him to his fullest potential, who used his last remaining money to buy help doing daily chores that had since become beyond his ability. He quickly eschewed the title of servant from Jaiyana, and while he expected her aid, he treated like a daughter, or at least with respect. He nurtured her anger toward tieflings, a bit of a racist himself, but also directed her ire toward the government that gave them leave to prosper, citing the allowance of attacks, like that which occurred on her father by such fiends being permitted for maintenance of the status quo.
She seethed and embraced her anger, but vowed to change things: To remove the scourge of tieflings from society, and to punish the politicians who allowed others to suffer to keep themselves fat. To make the streets safe to walk at night, and to crush the notion of poverty beneath her heel. Seeing a great strength within the girl, her adoptive father Ramo taught her all of the combat skills he could. She excelled and on her 18th birthday he set her free into Westcrown to become her own woman, knowing someday she would be involved in great things.
Aaaah, alright. I've submitted Solomon to approximately 3 other Council of Thieves PBP's thus far. Another couldn't hurt, eh. Luckily enough, all the relevant information is included in the profile, but I'll post it all here as well.
I've been envisioning a character, name of Solomon Knox, a human inquisitor with the Trickery and Deception domain and subdomain. Solomon's ideals stem from a disillusionment with government and by extension the Cheliaxian state of affairs. It began with the murder of his parents, both of them "heathens" and "blasphemers" of the goddess Calistria. He has since forgone religion, but has instead taken upon himself one very specific mantra: Defiance. He has since acted as a saboteur, utilizing subterfuge and deception to fool the Cheliaxian authorities and defy them at every turn, yet he has not yet realized the freedom fighter mantra as his own. The trauma of his childhood has warped his mind a tad, but it's nothing to be concerned about. He's no rapist or murderer or devil worshiping nimrod. He's simply, well, off. His speech mannerisms are strange, sounding almost alien at times, providing his own idiosyncratic thought processes into his speech. He has a tendency to trail off mid sentence or ignore somebody he's talking to entirely.
Schizotypal Personality Disorder
I would, with this path, pick the Diabolist Raised trait to complement his backstory.
Nonchalant Thuggery: You gain a +4 trait bonus on Bluff checks to keep others from noticing your aggressive actions.
In the lands of Cheliax, in the city of Westcrown, in the middle of a busy street a hunter of men sat on a bench. His name was Solomon Knox.
They were like a swarm of honey bees, buzzing and buzzing hither and to, back and forth in myriad mesmerizing patterns and swaths of color. Millions upon millions of colorful men and women, shades of blue and red and colors beyond the recognizable pallet, going about daily lives of the grandest monotony, la-ti-da-ti-da.
Solomon did his best to ignore them.
"No, gotta focus, got things to do, people to threaten, things to do." Solomon's eyes glanced back and forth across the horizon of the busy street. He blinked once, twice, thrice and blinked some more, trying the clear away the images that arrayed themselves before his eyes.
"Kind of pretty," he said aloud to himself. Loud enough, at least for the several other people on the bench to glance to the left and towards him, eyebrows raised. Solomon hoped these pedestrians weren't the talkative type. He didn't feel like talking to the talkative types. It was always easier talking to the non-talkative types. They didn't talk as much.
It was a bright day in Westcrown, crown jewel of the Chelexian Empire. The sun shone through the clouds in gaping candescences of maroon and inflamed magenta. Solomon couldn't help but think the entire cobblestone street was awash with blood. Buildings of wood and stone towered overhead, but to no avail, blocking none of the brilliant incandescence.
"No, no, mind wandering, gotta focus, gotta... hey look a butterfly! No, stop that!" The other people on the bench were looking at him even stranger now. Solomon really needed to learn how to filter these things.
He was attracting to much attention on the bench. He stood up quickly and began marching in the opposite direction he was previously facing, keeping one eye towards the right of his person. This area of the street was a three way intersection, and the hustle and bustle of the city made looking at any one thing before it was obscured by a thousand passing wagons and people an impossibility. To track somebody in the city from ground level, as opposed to scaling the nearby rooftops to look down from below like some haughtily unconvincing bird of prey, Solomon subscribed to the theory that a vague direction is always better than a straight path to a target.
At the very least, it made the chase a lot more interesting.
Trouble was, Solomon forgot who he was tracking. The thoughts tried with great effort to reorganize themselves in Solomon’s mind, but nothing seemed to come to him.
The streets were packed with wagon caravans and merchants hocking an always random assortment of paraphernalia. Used to be a lot more religious flavor about though. Solomon stopped for a second and wondered what happened to all that. He was buffeted forward by several different passing wagons, each moving in exact opposite directions. He felt his knees buckle and his arms flayed back and forth as he catapulted himself on one leg into a small alleyway to his right.
He landed in a puddle. It was a hard landing and his legs throbbed in agony with the impact. "Ow," he said with only the subtlest inflection of irony. The puddle was clear and the water was still swaying and wobbling with his impact. He could see his reflection though.
Give Solomon Knox just a cursory glance, and you won't see much. The face face that stared back at him was entirely unremarkable. His gaunt face gave his skin a taught look and his eyes angled downward towards his nose, giving his face the appearance that he was always puzzling something out. Tanned skin, brown hair and eyes, average looks, marred only by the slightest and lightest of burn marks and the side of his kneck, had gotten Solomon far in a city where different had become a mark deserved of a good beating. Give him a good look though, stare into the blank limpid pools of brown murky water of his eyes however, and you'll something completely out of the ordinary.
He blinked and blinked again and blinked some more, anxious, nervous because he remembered things. It was difficult to remember what it was he was remembering. He thought long and hard. A house in Westcrown, an abusive father, a drunk mother, both clerics of Calistria.
"Ahhh, bloody nostalgia time. Just love the nostalgia." Solomon gritted his teeth and pounded the ground with a clenched fist as he stood up. He plunged down towards the other side of the alleyway, acutely aware of where his target now was. The rays of opulent sunlight reached a twilight as they entered the apex of the looming houses above him. He bathed in the half-light of the reeking alleyway, smelling of ammonia, gutters and burnt corpses.
"There are no burnt corpses, 'least not here." He blinked his eyes furiously. He kept seeing it, Asmodeus inquisitors, house fire, his mother coerced into out the window into the street amidst yells of "fire," "spies," or "heretics". He saw his father wrapped in flames, screaming his final adulations to the savored sting, his entire cadaver burrowed in a brilliant glorious pire as it descended down right on top of him.
The real Solomon Knox touched the side of his neck where the faint burn mark lied. He whispered to himself as he walked down the alleyway, still blocked fromt he shine of ruby light. He felt his father's hair lap down the side of his neck. Solomon, then and now, repressed a scream, pummeling his way out from underneath his father's melting corpse. He felt whispers in the back of his skull, coercing, numbing his spine and splitting each of his hairs with one little saying, one tiny phrase repeated verbatim again and again and again. "Give in," "Give in," "Feed the fire," "Submit."
Solomon, now, choked out one word with harried breath, "Defy."
He emerged from the alleyway and turned a sharp right, barreling over a gnome driving two horses behind him. Solomon stepped unhurriedly, purposefully, through the crowd with nary a thought on his mind.
"Today I defy," he said, aloud, loud enough to be heard by everybody and nobody. The conformist crowd walking about him exchanged nervous glances with itself, but kept moving, not wanting to be caught amiss of current goings on.
His dark grey robes flapped about him in ways that defied the direction of the wind. His armored coat felt light as a feather, red mixed with black. He stood out from the crowd and now the pedestrians parted in his wake, like a till plowing through a field of people.
He reached the Limehouse Theater, and there he was.
"My lord are you beautiful," he said to nobody in particular.
The man was short and stocky, long flowing black hair falling to his half-plate decorated with the sigils of the noble House Mezinas. His nose was squat and stuck inward towards his face. He stood in the square outside the theater, bartering with a merchant over grain or lettuce or some other nonsense.
"Hmmm, no fish," said Solomon Knox as he went traipsing down the edge of the square amidst the crowd. "I could go for some fish"
Solomon reached the other end of the merchant's booth on the opposite side of the short man from House Mezinas. Stepping over to the left side of the merchant Solomon reached over and threw the merchant aside, reaching over to rest his hands on the edge of the stall.
"It's an absolute travesty," he said to the man and the man just stood there gaping wide eyed at the occurrence.
"What is, what is the meaning of this, what are you..."
Solomon cut him off. "This man isn't selling any fish." His smile was slack, leaning over across his jowl in a half-crescent shape.
"I ask again, citizen, what is the meaning of this disturbance? I'll have you know..." The man looked anxious, scared. His eyes darted past looking for an exit strategy."
Solomon gave him one.
"Do you enjoy your life?" He asked. "Do you enjoy murder and oppression as much as I enjoy it? 'Cause we enjoy it for different reasons. You enjoy causing it, fear and misery, just as much as I enjoy ending the men who cause fear and misery."
Solomon feigned a step to the left side of cart and the Paladin bolted down towards the right, giving oh so merry a chase.
He led Solomon past streams of the denizens of Westcrown as people again parted from both of them. He led him down one block before making his way into an alleyway to the right.
Solomon knew the alleyway, knew that it led into a dead end and knew that the Paladin would be setting up an ambush for him.
Solomon ran in there gleefully. Out of the pocket of his robes he detached a punching dagger and detached the cover, placing it around his knuckles and in his palm. Then the man sprung the "trap." Solomon saw him, perched up in the second floor window of the building to his right. A damn good climber considering the plate armor.
He feigned ignorance, walking slowly towards where he was perched, not once looking up. Near the end of the alleyway, without glancing up he said, "Quick, kill me before it's too late!"
The Paladin was stunned, but only for a moment. He leapt down towards Solomon, shortsword brandished in his hand, curving forward for a downward slash that he could use the rolling momentum to absorb the shock of the fall. Man was like a gorilla.
He came down with full force and Solomon just stood there, not enough time to react, but as the blow came to pass through him, he was no longer there, but was just five feet from where he was standing. The man landed gracefully, but as he rolled he yelped in desperate anguish as the punching dagger Solomon left standing face up on the ground caught him in his shin. It seemed to penetrate the plate armor, but just barely.
Solomon was already on top of him as he landed against the nearby wall. He reached down and yanked the shortsword out of his grasp while kicking at the blade imbedded in his armor. He kicked and blinked and kicked and blinked until the Paladin was howling for mercy, blood pooling at the base of his armor. Solomon wrenched the dagger out and pinned the man against the wall, pointing the dagger at his throat.
In spite of everything the man let out a sly grin. "You know you've accomplished nothing. There are several of my brethren delivering these documents as we speak. He nodded towards a small pouch at his side where a piece of rolled up parchment stuck conspicuously out.
Solomon was staring at the wall above him. "What? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."
"The documents," he said in exasperation. Solomon responded, "what documents?"
The man had a pained expression of confusion painted across his face. The light shone there, on his face, the deep maroon opulence that it always was in this city. "What do you mean, 'what documents?'" He was staring at Solomon, angry. "What were you after me for then? Do you know who I am?!"
"Wait, give me a second, I know this. Hmmmm, tip of the tongue. Could be... nope. Terribly sorry, I forget these things often. I am what I am and..." he broke off mid sentence.
The man was aghast. A sickly color rose of from the base of his neck. "So you waylay me, attack me, torture me, and you don't even know my name? Are you often so arbitrary?"
Solomon leaned in closer. "I do not remember your name, but names are fleeting; they change like the time of day. Things you've done, however, I know exactly what you've done. Quantifiably, you've killed seventeen people in total, eight men, six women, three children!" He leaned in close, close enough to kiss the man on the ear, knife still close pressed up against his neck. Into his ear he whispered, "I know you raped three of them, two of the women, one of the children."
The man was sobbing now, pleading, begging like a sorry dog begs for scraps.
"You've got one chance, one chance only to answer my question, and I may spare your life." The man looked up at Solomon, hopeful. "Tell me..." he looked suddenly lost. His eyes stared up towards the sky, towards the radiance and beauty that showered his world in a crimson haze.
"Tell me, does Shattered Cross Inn serve fish?" The man looked up in wild panic, all hope draining from his face. He let out a fat wheezing sound from the base of his throat, but that was the extent of it response.
Solomon's mouth was a small crease embedded in the front of his mouth unmoving. He eyes sat fixated on the Paladin's forehead and he blinked rapidly, unstopping. Wordlessly he moved his hand onto his forehead and pressed down, harder and harder and a soft scorching sound echoed off the walls pressed about them in the alleyway. It was the sound that fish makes as it is fried.
The Paladin started screaming, thrashing as his skin burned at Solomon's touch. He had to hold him down with his other hand. At once the burning stopped and Solomon removed his hand. Where once his hand had pressed there was only one six letter word, "R-A-P-I-S-T"
The man was shaking violently. "Unfortunately it's not permanent," said Solomon, "because as much as I despise torture I have to get some message across." He looked down on the sorry Paladin. "You and your ilk, you defy everything that I stand for, and that's not acceptable, really, no. See, I am the one who defies." He leaned in closer to him. "He spoke as softly as he could while still being heard. He said, "I defy," and promptly brought his boot down on his head.
In a matter of moments he was off, off to find the Shattered Cross Inn, hoping to find some fish. He was a saboteur but not a rebel, a hunter of the diabolists who hoped to control them, but was not their sworn enemy, not yet anyway. He knew, at least, that he would never be at a loss for his purpose. He would defy to the very end, even as the entirety of Westcrown collapsed around him.
Atr. Full Score Ranks Misc.
Acrobatics Dex +3 3
Appraise Int -1 -1
Bluff Cha +6 2 1 3
Climb Str +0 0
Craft ( ) Int -1 -1
Craft ( ) Int -1 -1
Craft ( ) Int -1 -1
Diplomacy Cha +2 2
Disable Device Dex +3 3
Disguise Cha +6 2 1 3
Escape Artist Dex +3 3
Fly Dex +3 3
Handle Animal Cha +2 2
Heal Wis +4 4
Intimidate Cha +3 2 1
Knowledge(Dun) Int -1 -1
Knowledge(Ar) Int -1 -1
Knowledge(Na) Int -1 -1
Knowledge(Pl) Int -1 -1
Knowledge(Re) Int -1 -1
Linguistics Int -1 -1
Perception Wis +8 4 1 3
Perform ( ) Cha +2 2
Perform ( ) Cha +2 2
Perform ( ) Cha +2 2
Profession ( ) Wis +4 4
Profession ( ) Wis +4 4
Ride Dex +3 3
Sense Motive Wis +9 4 1 4
Sl. of Hand Dex +3 3
Spellcraft Int -1 -1
Stealth Dex +7 3 1 3
Survival Wis +4 4
Swim Str +0 0
U.Magic Device Cha +2 2
SQ Judgement(1/day), Stern Gaze, Strong Willed, Sudden Shift (Trickery/Deception Domain)
Combat Gear Bolts, Crossbow (30), Crossbow, Light, dagger, punching, bayonet, arrows (20), shortbow, buckler, light, armored coat, arrow (smoke)(3); Other Gear Backpack (16 @ 21.5 lbs), Bedroll, thorny vine(5), Ink (1 oz. vial, black), Journal, Parchment (sheet) (10), Pouch, belt (4 @ 3.5 lbs), Spell component pouch, Waterskin, cleric's vestments,
Judgement (1r) (1/day) (Su) - 0/1
Bolts, Crossbow - 0/20
Sudden Shift (7/day) - 0/7
Judgement - Pronounce judgement on foes as a swift action. Select one type of judgement, change it as a swift action.
Stern Gaze - Recieve morale bonus on all Intimidate and Sense Motive Checks equal to 1/2 inquisitor level (min +1)
Strong Willed - rolls twice and takes the best result when making a Will saving throw against a mind-affecting effect.
Sudden Shift - In the blink of an eye, you can appear somewhere else. As an immediate action, after you are missed by a melee attack, you can teleport up to 10 feet to a space that you can see. This space must be inside the reach of the creature that attacked you. You can use this power a number of times each day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Diabolist Raised - +1 Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, Sense Motive vs.
Nonchalant Thuggery - You gain a +4 trait bonus on Bluff checks to keep others from noticing your aggressive actions.
Here is my submission of Niek. A Hippie Bard that loves life and to love. Who wishes to change the city he lives in to a city of love and peace.
Languages Common, Elven,
Bardic Knowledge (Ex)
A bard adds half his class level (minimum 1) to all Knowledge skill checks and may make all Knowledge skill checks untrained.
Countersong (Su): At 1st level, a bard learns to counter magic effects that depend on sound (but not spells that have verbal components.) Each round of the countersong he makes a Perform (keyboard, percussion, wind, string, or sing) skill check. Any creature within 30 feet of the bard (including the bard himself) that is affected by a sonic or language-dependent magical attack may use the bard's Perform check result in place of its saving throw if, after the saving throw is rolled, the Perform check result proves to be higher. If a creature within range of the countersong is already under the effect of a non-instantaneous sonic or language-dependent magical attack, it gains another saving throw against the effect each round it hears the countersong, but it must use the bard's Perform skill check result for the save. Countersong does not work on effects that don't allow saves. Countersong relies on audible components.
Distraction (Su): At 1st level, a bard can use his performance to counter magic effects that depend on sight. Each round of the Distraction, he makes a Perform (act, comedy, dance, or oratory) skill check. Any creature within 30 feet of the bard (including the bard himself) that is affected by an illusion (pattern) or illusion (figment) magical attack may use the bard’s Perform check result in place of its saving throw if, after the saving throw is rolled, the Perform check result proves to be higher. If a creature within range of the Distraction is already under the effect of a non-instantaneous illusion (pattern) or illusion (figment) magical attack, it gains another saving throw against the effect each round it sees the Distraction, but it must use the bard’s Perform check result for the save. Distraction does not work on effects that don’t allow saves. Distraction relies on visual components.
Fascinate (Su): At 1st level, a bard can use his performance to cause one or more creatures to become fascinated with him. Each creature to be fascinated must be within 90 feet, able to see and hear the bard, and capable of paying attention to him. The bard must also be able to see the creatures affected. The Distraction of a nearby combat or other dangers prevents the ability from working. For every three levels a bard has attained beyond 1st, he can target one additional creature with this ability.
Each creature within range receives a Will save (DC 10 + 1/2 the bard’s level + the bard’s Cha modifier) to negate the effect. If a creature’s saving throw succeeds, the bard cannot attempt to fascinate that creature again for 24 hours. If its saving throw fails, the creature sits quietly and observes the performance for as long as the bard continues to maintain it. While fascinated, a target takes a –4 penalty on skill checks made as reactions, such as Perception checks. Any potential threat to the target allows the target to make a new saving throw against the effect. Any obvious threat, such as someone drawing a weapon, casting a spell, or aiming a weapon at the target, automatically breaks the effect.
Fascinate is an enchantment (compulsion), mind-affecting ability. Fascinate relies on audible and visual components in order to function.
Inspire Courage (Su): A 1st level bard can use his performance to inspire courage in his allies (including himself), bolstering them against fear and improving their combat abilities. To be affected, an ally must be able to perceive the bard’s performance. An affected ally receives a +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects and a +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls. At 5th level, and every six bard levels thereafter, this bonus increases by +1, to a maximum of +4 at 17th level. inspire courage is a mind-affecting ability. inspire courage can use audible or visual components. The bard must choose which component to use when starting his performance..
Niek was born into a family of actors, his mother and father spending most of their time acting at what theater would take them . Niek was the younger of two brothers, and was usually in the shadow of his older brother, who was a superior actor. While Niek had charisma, his acting alone lacked compared to the rest of his family. When he realized he would never beat his brother, he decided to plow through the city and create his own path. He began training in archery and magic, as well as swordplay, thinking he could perhaps join the Thieve's Guild and be a Robin Hood character. He hadn't really thought that one through. However, his brother met a embarrassing end, and Niek was brought back into his families job path. His brother decided to sleep with a very well-off noble's wife and got caught. Sadly, the husband had guards and they got rid of his brother permanently. Now, he is is always known as Alan Cobriana's brother and while he enjoys the attention sometimes he would like to make a name for himself another way.
He does not discriminate, not against anybody. You cannot dislike someone until you've met them, stupid things such as race and blood are meaningless; the person inside is what counts. Most people who exhibit evil behaviour, are not evil at all. This is merely a shield of nastiness, set up by parents and social upbringing. This isn't to say that there aren't evil people in the world, but Niek can quickly tell the two apart. This is possibly the only real intelligent trait he has. Unfortunately, his Fathers and Brothers gift of wisdom and intelligence fell short for Niek. He is in no way stupid, just a little 'blonde' at moments, not very bright and a little challenged with academics most of the time. His smarts are found elsewhere, which he wouldn't change for the world. Things such as empathy, he is especially good at that. He is also very good at pleasing people, changing around his words to suit others better or telling them things they want to hear. This could easily be used for purposes which are not totally 'good', but to be frank; thoughts of upsetting people or using these talents to weaken others and aid himself just don't enter his head. He couldn't imagine trying to hurt someone, either emotionally or physically. He couldn't possibly wonder why another human being would hate someone else so much that they would want to cause them pain, no matter what type. This is a very sweet view, but something which will defiantly cause him heartache in the future. This also means he can trust people easily and quickly, because his mind is programmed to think they couldn’t be out to betray him.
He is defiantly an eccentric, his flamboyant behaviour and choices of clothing very much expressing this with total ease. It is very unlikely someone would come across Niek upset or depressed, it would be an incredibly strange sight for anyone who knew him. Some people could find this explosion of excitement and zany behaviour annoying, a lot of people do; however it has made him very popular within community and fairly well liked on stage. However, the intellectuals usually just roll their eyes and return to their studies, and the thieves and thugs pf the city finding it blood curdlingly agitating. But none the less, they could say anything to him, and he'd still give them a warm smile the next time he saw them. He just can't fathom holding a grudge, it's pointless. Everyday is new, everyday is another adventure. Why dwell on the past? It doesn't make sense. This is one of Niek's strongest views, which he tries express to anyone who will listen. This is why he usually finds himself bewildered with the thieves, for if you wrong a thief in anyway shape or form… prepare for a lifetime of hate. Niek just shrugs it off though, he respects other peoples opinions, even if they aren’t so nice. Most of his views make him an incredibly poor soldier, but that suits him to his core.
Along with peace and love, acting is most defiantly Niek's third most important passion. Getting lost in the rhythm, in the melody of good acting. It’s just something someone can’t comprehend without doing it first. Whatever type of performance it is, Niek has respect for it, as it brings happiness to so many different types of people across the world. Moving on from acting, comes dancing; which is obviously one of the most exciting activities for Niek, the lovable little Hippie. Sometimes he doesn't even know what he's doing... like he's just high on the music himself and in a total trance. He loves to do this outside; which also brings us to the outdoors. Niek is an outdoorsmen at heart, and feel a strong connection to nature. He dislikes spending long periods of time indoors; experiencing strange things such as inability to express himself while locked away in his home. Of course, it's not always appropriate for him to run around the city all day; but when he's back home... don't even try to find him at his house before 8pm o'clock, he wont be.
Ah heck, here's Enko the Flowing Monk. Yes, it's Ultimate Combat, but the Children of the Upper Reach are totally Flowing Monks, IMO. :)
Word grew of a quiet boy who challenged no one, yet was set upon daily and met fist and knife with uncanny defenses, and eventually a mysterious robed woman appeared in Rego Scripa. Soon Enko was seen no more.
He grew of age among the monks of the Children of the Upper Reach, who honed his natural skills and taught him in the ways of melekatha, which redirects strikes rather than striking first. Enko learned under the tutelage of Sevarna, the woman who recruited him, among other Masters. While the monastery was secluded, news came from other secret sources devoted to Iomedae; resistance cells, aid from Taldor and beyond, and also setbacks, assassinations, and betrayals. Eventually Enko was brought into the chamber of the Flowing Circle, where only Masters sat. There sat Sevarna, his tutor, and Ardin, the Grand Master, among others. Enko bowed deeply, standing lightly on his toes as taught by the monks to receive anything from news to a swift attack.
"We have need of you to return to your former home, Enko. Westcrown is in the air; talk of change, possibly good, possibly bad, is thick in our channels. Either way, it could destabilize situations. As always, we shall observe, flow, and react. You are a scion and know the poorer quarters well; thus, go, and be our agent. Report when you can."
Enko bowed again. "I shall leave at once."
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Dotting for interest. How about a LG human Flowing Monk from the monastery of the Children of the Upper Reach? Sent into Westcrown by the monastery to investigate conspiracies in Westcrown; a monk easily can pass as a beggar undetected.
Definitely a good and legit potential applicant. Can't wait to see it. :)
EDIT: Ahh you ninja'd me with your monk. Nice anticipation. Currently sitting at a live PFS game. Everyone, they're looking great so far!
|Monsanto Buttercup Chaundecy|
May I introduce, Viscount Corneleous Ornelos
He was making strides among his classmates and earning respect for his talents that he long craved at home, when the messenger arrived. His father, mother, and older brothers were dead- and the family seat, businesses, and responsibilities had fallen to him. The mystery behind their deaths has not been solved, he was thrust into the light as the new Viscount. Scandalized by their murder, and more distraught than he believed he could be for his cold hearted family, he returned home.
He temporarily halted his education to right his sinking family's ship. Upon returning to Westcrown he began to understand just how rotten the core of his upbringing had become. Politics and scandal rules; good, innocent people suffer under demonic lash. His plan to return to Korsova has disappeared and has been replaced with some on the job training. With reluctance, he wades into the jaws of the political scene, while spending long nights pouring over long forgotten family tomes.
Corneleous is a young Chelaxian. He keeps his hair longer than stylish, and wears stylish last season fashions. He's tall and thin, with a small pair of spectacles perched on his nose. That, and his multipouched belt give away his more scholarly habits.
More to come if selected.
I haven't mentioned this yet, but I'm looking for a max of 5 in the party (maybe 6 if I'm feeling saucy), and I am interested in keeping it a fairly well rounded party. I've also added some notes about your applications, if you'd respond to those (if needed) promptly that would be great. With that in mind here are the submissions thus far:
Monsanto Buttercup Chaundecy - Viscount Corneleous Ornelos (Human Conjurer) Got everything I need here. Thanks!
The Dorf - Lucin Crispin (Human Vivisectionist) Looking good. I did have a question you can see in the next post.
Rasputin17 - Solomon Knox (Human Inquisitor) Looks good, questions pending
Ringtail - Jaiyana Nejem (Human Urban Ranger) Got everything I need for her. Thanks!
Axolotl - Enko (Human Monk) Looks nice and flowy. Thanks!
PH Dungeon - Ernesto (Human Rogue ?) Could I see a few of the mechanics for him? So I'm not guessing on race, class, etc.., as those will be a factor. Thanks
Rojosama - Octavia 'Tavi' Delphina (Halfling Rogue Knifefighter) Got everything I need for her, thanks!
Nakari - Niek (Human Hippie... I mean Bard) Looks good, and very loving. Thanks!
Tanner - ?
Edward - ?
Monkeygod - ?
EDIT: All - be thinking of how your character ties into Westcrown, ideas aplenty in the Players Guide. But no need to submit that info (if you haven't already) at this time. Just consider the question for now.
I read the abilities and thought that it would be a cool take on the spymaster/assassin type of character that poses as a doctor, especially after 3rd level when Cruel Anatomist ability kicks in. It was only through the use of traits to gain a few key social abilities that this would work though. Other skills, such as acrobatics and stealth will be covered by extracts at 2nd level.
All this being said, I don't plan on playing Lucian as mad scientist tinkering with human experimentation. I used the archetype to represent the more roguish training he has received from the spymaster for House Wintrish. He is LN because he does have a personal code, and is not into just killing for the pleasure of it. He does what is necessary to support his house and city. He'd almost be good if it wasn't for his lack of consideration about killing. If we could work out a way to lose the Torturous Transformation ability in favor of something more fitting to the concept at a later level, then I would be happy to do so. I do see that the Torturer's Eye could be an appropriate ability because Lucian would torture someone if he felt he needed to and has likely received some training in it (I will be taking Intimidation later).
General Announcement: I realized I've got some prior time constraints this evening, so I won't even be able to start the review till very late. With that in mind I'll allow new entries for the rest of the day, so no new applications after today. Some very fun ideas here folks. Thanks!
Hey, score. It's 3am down here but you may hear from me in the morning. I'd dig a chance to play a halfling (but it seems Tavi got first dibs) or a diabolist in the Cheliax setting (and bugger it, we have a conjurer too).
Perhaps a cleric of Iomedae? Or a staunch traditionalist fighter-type. I really dig the looks of some of the other PCs and I've been struggling to find a steady game to match the pace of my excellent Second Darkness one... so I'm gonna seize on this (slim) chance to play with them. Any gaps you want to see filled?
Twigs here. Thought I'd pop up a potential character. I played Henric in a CotCT game and I'd probably opt for a similar character build here, a rough and tumble longsword fighter who can grapple and picks up the Cosmopolitan feat to round out his skills.
Korvosa's a very different environment to Westcrown, and I'd probably steer away from playing the idealist with the polished-breastplate here. Henric would need a drastic reskinning (and likely a new alias) to fit, but at least it's something to share.
It bears mentioning that I'm assuming all applicants are willing to abide my my posting request of 2-3 a day and 1-2 on weekends - barring any RL experiences getting in the way. If this assumption is not correct let me know.
Here are the submissions thus far:
Monsanto Buttercup Chaundecy - Viscount Corneleous Ornelos (Human Conjurer) Got everything I need here. Thanks!
The Dorf - Lucin Crispin (Human Vivisectionist) Looking good. Thanks for answering my question.
Draconas - Madame Tsura (Human Witch) Looks complete, and hellfiry, thanks!
Rasputin17 - Solomon Knox (Human Inquisitor) Looks good, questions answered!
Ringtail - Jaiyana Nejem (Human Urban Ranger) Got everything I need for her. Thanks!
Axolotl - Enko (Human Monk) Looks nice and flowy. Thanks!
Fanguar - Weyland Piper (Human Fighter/Archer) Everything looks good at this point
Twigs - Guardsman Henric (Human Fighter) You tried to ninja me but I was too crafty! ha! j/k. Looks good, thanks for the submission.
PH Dungeon - Ernesto (Human Rogue) Looks great, I assumed I could extrapolate some crunch based on his background, but you know... "something about assuming being bad." ;)
Rojosama - Octavia 'Tavi' Delphina (Halfling Rogue Knifefighter) Got everything I need for her, thanks!
Nakari - Niek (Human Hippie... I mean Bard) Looks good, and very loving. Thanks!
Budfox - Elwyn Cintras (Half-Elf Rogue) Got what I need at this point. Very nice.
Tanner - ?
Edward - ?
Monkeygod - ?
Those who have submitted and new applicants, I may as well ask this of you now, rather than tonight and delay the selection process that much more. I have a scenario question I'd like everyone to answer, as in character as possible. I want to see how you post, before we play. Respond to my question in spoilered fashion. Thanks.
EDIT: Twigs and anyone looking, any gaps should be fairly easy to spot by looking at the submission list. Hope that helps!
I don't know if this story will work for the adventure path but her is my submission for a half-elf rogue/bard
The Clyde Brothers Carnival was owned by a pair of scheming swindlers always looking for easy money, but they had a sharp tongue and quick wit.
Her mother was a part of an acrobatic troupe and Tabby was to join when she was old enough. She studied hard but was always distracted by the carnival mage, a senile old man named Praxis.
Praxis was a member of the Order of the Rose Sorcerous Society, he showed Tabby several simple tricks but she never liked the illusions, she wanted to learn charms to entice the audience to watch her. Praxis was fun to be with, he always an easy mark; you had to admire his perseverance.
Praxis even recommended her into the Order because as he, would say, “The girl is high spirited but has talent; Just got to curb that chaotic nature”. The Order accepted her on a trial basis (at least until she was of age).
Tabby came too really like Praxis as a father figure. And when Praxis died Tabby felt a deep sorrow. She wouldn’t talk or smile for a nearly year and cried almost every night. Her closest friend was gone.
It wasn’t until Tabby got the chance to be in the show with her mother she smiled again. Tabby grew even closer to her mother after Praxis’ death.
Tabby really enjoyed being part of the show. Performing feats of acrobatics, escape artist routines, and even tried the tightrope.
There was one show Tabby finally got to be in with her mother’s troupe, the knife throwing. In the troupe there were two brothers, twins actually, that both liked Tabby and as luck (or un-luck) they were the knife throwers for the act. Well, one show just before the act was to start Tabby was off with another fellow, a cute kid (maybe 16 or 17 years of age) and loving every minute of it I might add. The brothers found Tabby and the other boy kissing behind the tiger cage and boy were they pissed. Of course Tabby had no idea she was caught, at least until they went out to perform.
The knives were a little close for comfort that show until one hit right in the shoulder. This was Tabby’s first taste of pain.
Tabby tried hard to make amends with the brothers but they didn’t want to hear about it. Tabby was a little heartbroken, after all she did like the two and her romp was more to make them jealous (as a joke) than to really hurt them.
The two brothers fighting were bad for business and the Clyde brothers kicked them out of the carnival. Tabby pleaded to let them stay but who listens to a little girl anyway.
Time went on and Tabby grew bigger and soon was performing with her mother in the troupe doing stunts and even filling in as a clown now and then (No puns please). That’s when it happened.
The caravan was attacked on a long stretch of road between Egorian and Westcrown, taking everything. The Clyde brothers were killed and Tabby and her mother were wounded and left for dead.
Tabby was the first to awaken and upon seeing her mother she felt pain unlike anything she felt before but thanks to the gods she was still alive.
Tabby scrounged around the battle scene for any food or money that she could use. All she found was the Rapier that one her admirers used in a sword display sideshow (surprising it was left behind).
Tabby and her mother traveled south for days with little to eat until they found themselves at the city of Westcrown.
Having very little money, they were forced to live in an old run down shack in the Parego Dospera part of town. Tabby’s mother never fully recovered from her wounds and infection set in while on the road and she was always ill.
They needed money to survive so Tabby’s mother sought work wherever she could and Tabby was left to fend for herself while she was away. Tabby learned to live on the streets taking small bits of food from street merchants and the like.
It was a warm evening when she saw her mother “working” at a local tavern. Dancing for money. Tabby glanced in the window and was mesmerized by her mother’s grace on the stage. Tabby was quickly chased from the window once discovered and not a moment too soon. After she left, her mother began her “work” with the gentlemen patrons.
Tabby’s mother became pregnant and gave birth to a boy. With no money to feed him and the illness getting worse she was forced to rely on Tabby to steal what she could to keep them going.
It was Tabby’s 18th birthday when Tabby got a gift from her mother, a beautiful violet “dancing” dress. Tabby tried it on and it fit perfectly, her mother did up her hair, eyes, and nails. There stood a half-sized woman where only a child stood a moment before.
Tabby asked her mother what to do now. Tabby’s mother fought back tears and said to “dance” for the gentlemen and be nice to them and they will be nice to you.
Tabby knew what she had to do and that was the last time she saw her mother. She died that night from the illness. Tabby and her baby brother were alone now, she tried her best to take care of him but it was too much.
Tabby took her brother (at the age of 6) and headed to the orphanage associated with Cayden Cailean just about the only decent house of worship she could get access to. There she left her brother in the hopes he will have a loving home and a warm bed to sleep in. Tabby left like a thief in the night.
Tabby remembered the advice she got from her mother before she died “Be true to yourself and never let anyone take away your smile”. Tabby began her work at the same tavern she first saw her mother dancing all those years ago.
Tabby mourned her mother’s passing even till now, several years later. She never knew what came of her brother nor what his new name is She only knew him as “Podarious” or Podo as she liked to call him, and his unique birthmark that looked like a tiny spade on the back of his neck.
After working the dance for a few years Tabby got to be quite popular She has been known to do a spell or two to entice a larger tip from the patrons but nothing to fancy (she didn’t want to let on that she knew magic. (That was her little secret).
Tabby made good money at the taverns, but she only kept enough to keep fed and keep a leaky roof over her head. The remainder of her earnings went to the church of Cayden Cailean orphanage to finance the care for her brother. She would always leave the donation anonymously.
Years passed and Tabby’s brother was no longer at the orphanage, she tried to find out what happened but never got any information about his adopted parents. Tabby continued to contribute to the church regularly the only way she could think of to repay their kindness and secrecy.
The bar Tabby mainly worked got to be quite popular even attracting the attention of the criminal underworld of Westcrown. It was about the time she was going the see the tavern owner about her pay when she heard a scuffle going on inside. She cracked the door to peek in.
A man pointed a hand x-bow at the owner’s head while two other men held him down “twang” and he fell over dead in a pool of blood. Tabby shrieked and of course got the attention of the killers. They tried to grab Tabby before she could get away. During the struggle was when she noticed one of the henchmen was half-elven and had a spade shaped birthmark on the back of his neck. “Podo?” she cried but he didn’t even recognize her. Tabby got away that night
Tabby never heard about what happened from that night. She moved to another tavern to work and found a temporary refuge in the old ruins. She was soon discovered by some her fellow dancers heading home from an evening’s work. And after some short conversions she overheard them saying that there is a bounty on her and they should turn her in.
Tabby didn’t want any part of that she was carefree but not stupid, she knew that she was be framed for the murder the assassins would make sure of that. Tabby needed a new hideout so she eventually in the employ of the Vitaron family.
Tabby liked it there, it was small enough to not be noticed, and they seemed to have a hold on the street urchins of the city (common pick pockets and Grifters The family never asked for much but was a safe house when Tabby got in trouble again and again and again.
On Tabby’s birthday, she received an unmarked present at her home. Inside was a gold heart shaped locket.
When Tabby opened the Locket, a phantasm image of her mother appeared. It said:
“As close as we were even I had secrets, Praxis was my teacher and I too was an illusionist, your magical talents obviously come from me and your high spirit is from your father. I was once a great performer before you were born and you have inherited my talents. I tried to get away from the sins of my past in the Carnival but it was too late. Find my killers stop the crime families; and finally, keep this locket close to your heart and I will be there too. Be true to yourself and never let anyone take away your smile.”
Tabby cried for hours that night and realized that someone knows about her past (someone from the carnival) and that someone knew her.
For the next several years Tabby attempted to find the sender of the gift. Until one night while leaving the tavern she was working at, she realized she was being followed, when she tricked her trailers and she “got the jump on them”. After a little “female persuasion” she heard what she wanted. She was a loose end to murder several years earlier and it was her brother attempting to send them on the wrong track to keep her safe.
She asked where her brother is now and they replied, “Probably dead sent into exile for turning against the Family”.
Tabby let the thieves go that night and began to look for a way to end her troubles. She had to take down the ruling crime families or Westcrown or die trying.
I submit to you Romeo Visurrian.
Romeo has been raised by his father his entire life. His mother was a famous actress, and she left the family for months at a time touring the various countries of Golarion with the most famous play-actors guilds of the time. Eventually she fell in love with one of her co-actors, and left the family for good. The last thing that he can remember of his mother was sneaking in to a play when she was in town (his father strictly forbids plays of all types) and watching his mother light up the stage.
That was 7 years ago, before the drug problems started. His mother, Ariana Visurrian, got into an on stage "accident," where someone had swapped out a prop knife for a real one (it was actually a jealous understudy that never got caught) and with no magic healer in the small town they were traveling to, she was attended to by hand, and given flayleaf, by a "concerned" understudy. The drug was magical, and - to make a long story short - started her on a downward spiral into harder stuff. A few short years later, his mother having been kicked out of even the lowest local guilds because of her habit, decided to move to Cheliax and be "the mother she never was" to her only son. She however, didn't have the strength to tell him that she was his mother, and her face and features, so horribly twisted by years of hard drug use were unrecognizable by her son. She would watch him from afar, and write in her diary the things that she one day hoped to say to him face to face. She never got that chance, as one day in a terrible despair, she lost her 3 year battle to the drug and took her entire stash, and ending what was left of her life.
She was eventually found, and the the guards summoned. When it became public who she was, Romeo was visited by an official from Varisia. Apparently she had set aside some funds for him, and locked it in a trust that she couldn't touch, so that those funds couldn't go to her habit. Upon the widespread news of her death, this chain of motion kicked in. (Child of Infamy trait)
Romeo was unsure of how to handle the news of his mothers death at the young age of 17, and the news that eventually came out that she had moved from Varisia to Cheliax, but had not wanted to contact him for some reason.
With no mother to raise him, and a father that flew into his own kind of depressed dejection, losing himself in his work (he was a chemist) he turned to the street, which isn't hard to in Cheliax. He wanted answers. Hell, he'd even settle for questions that he could find the answers to. He had nothing. Then he heard whispers of a society and an old building... a Path-finding one, that once upon a time challenged the authority of this drug ridden place. He dropped a couple messages here and there, half hoping they would be found by the authorites. But instead he was contacted by someone in the country, and told that the right questions and some of the answers lie in Delvehaven. He knew the place, and he spent the next few years training himself and getting whatever information he could absorb to set out on his own and rid cheliax of it's corruption once and for all. He has recently made contact with the subject again, and told his unknown contact that he is ready to help the pathfinder society in what he can, starting with Delvehaven (the pathfinders exile trait from the PG)
Now at the age of 21, eager to get out on his own, his father has given him the deed to his wealth, which was set to be given to him at the age of 21, along with the letter from his mother and the journal.
He is about to read it, as the story starts. He has figured out a few things in the last 4 years since he heard of his mothers death. She was so beautiful and full of life, to be destroyed by drugs.
That, and someone needs to pay...
Character Stuff - how it will be most likely played:
Embarrassed by his mother, he only goes by the name Romeo (unless he feels like adding her name to the conversation will get him somewhere with someone). As the name would infer, he is quite the charmer. I plan on playing Inquisitor, but Rogue or FIghter would both work equally well. He will be the stat monkey as inquisitor or rogue. He is the type to not get himself into fights he can't finish, if he can help it - preferring ranged combat, or attacking from the backsides. He will be very charismatic and intelligent.
“What that means for me, personally; I’m well aware that the fish rots from the head and thus the head must be removed. In this case that means the mayor. Everything else is but a symptom, including slavery, the hold of the Dark Prince of Lies’ vile church, tieflings, and the shadowy beasts that prowl the night. If he were to be replaced with one willing to make the hard decisions and do what needs done, instead of the oafish sloth that views the city from the safety of a palatial manor with all of the luxuries gold can provide, so far, far removed from the worries of everyday man, important change could take place. Is that me? Unlikely, but I’d be willing to support the right candidate, but my place is sacrificing for the people that I love. If I couldn’t sway the mayor to leave with a personal audience, I’d be more than willing to lay my life on the line and remove him with proper force, though I pray to deaf ears that such a matter needs no martyr. I would also take on the responsibility of organizing the masses, those who are as sick of the permitted sin and evil of society as I and lead the movement to oust those unsavory byproducts and ungrateful wretches of high society.
“This is all unfortunately hypothetical, of course, for I have no means nor station to accomplish such ends.”
Answer of Redemption:
"There are many who hate this city, hate this country, and consider them damned. I do not. I am of this place. Westcrown is not damned; if I may, it is dammed--"--a ghost of a smile appears on his lips--"--that is to say, the life, the water, people, cannot flow properly in and out of it. Much of this is due to a misinterpretation of what is lawful here. Law cannot abide thievery, yet it is accepted here and overlooked. With thievery and corruption, one cannot have the lawful exchange of goods; literally, things cannot flow, lest you think we monks are always referring to the metaphysical."
He continues. "Creatures of shadow stalk these streets. How can a city live in fear in this way? And yet, we cannot hate the thieves, nor the shadows, nor the government that tacitly allows them. The Children of the Upper Reach seek to remove the blocks that prevent the people moving along their own path. In other countries, this would be called 'freedom'. In other countries, our actions might be considered 'revolution', but we have the patience of long decades and centuries. Give the people back the night. Let them hold their heads high, free from fear of thieves that distract them from the much greater thievery of the government. I will do my own small part in helping the people see their way. Not by striking with blooded weapon, but through patience, observation, and then allowing those who would keep the people of Westcrown in chains to fall upon their own swords. It only takes a mere...redirection." He turns to observe the limping, sickened rat, which begins to shake off its dizzy spell and scurries into the darkness, to his satisfaction.
"Never in hate should we strike. If we do, we become part of the symptoms that plague my city, my country. And all of them, yes, even the Source, are symptoms, and are confused. All can be healed and redeemed. I may fail, but there will be more after me, and more, and more after that, because we arise from the natural flow of things, and that can not be stopped by any force on this Plane or any other."
Enko bows and resumes sitting in the filthy alleyway.
@ GM mug - aha. I'll get on that.
Romeo smiles slightly, and takes a sip of his wine.
"I like you, and seeing as how you bought me this fine wine, the least I can do is answer a mysterious strangers' anonymous question, right?
What would I do? There are very few things that I *won't* do to root out evil and corruption. I am actually in contact with a very powerful society, that once had grounds here before these he looks around at the bar to make sure no one is listening ... accursed lands. This land is nothing more than debauchery and vileness. I would like to see these lands returned to the beauty that they once held.
Night beasts? Easy. he holds forward a compass looking thing and says With one press of this button, a night terror becomes a day dream, if you know what I mean... And yes, I meant to rhyme.
As to the indifferent mayor, there is only to remove him. Either through rising in the political ranks, which I have been thinking about quite lately, or if the law requires it, remove him forcibly. I wonder about being a politician... That would be a lot of fun.
[secret - Romeo wants to be mayor of Westcrown, but not necessarily right away. He's only 21, after all. He would like to acheive this lawfully and turn the country around from the inside.]
Until the day that comes, though, he is content to take out baddies from the outside looking in.
Luician finally ends his response and looks down at his drink as he swirls the glass around. Finally he looks back at you with a smirk, "I didn't answer your question? A pity. Perhaps I just like my head securely on my shoulders. "
Here is the submission for Tanner Nielsen.
LG Halfling Oracle (Life)
Revelation: Channel Energy
Feat: Extra Revelation (Lifesense)
Traits: Diabolist Raised, Slippery
Trained Skills: Diplomacy, Knowledge (religion), Sense Motive, Spellcraft, Stealth
Occupation: Healer for the Bellflower Network
You see a clean-shaven young halfling with tousled black hair. His eyes are the color of coal, with slight swirls of gray. His skin is fair, and he bears the exaggerated nose and ears common to the kinfolk. He is dressed in the clothes of a common laborer, with a green collared shirt, dun pants, and sturdy leather boots. He is typical for a halfling, with a sturdy frame and lithe reflexes.
Once he could walk, Amon was set to work, laboring for the greater glory of House Henderthane. His master was a second-cousin-by-marriage of the House patriarch, possessed of the wealth necessary to be of the indolent rich. Long hours, numbing labor, and harsh punishments underscored a childhood filled with memories of two loving parents. Amon's healing talents were discovered at an early age, delighting his parents into thinking that he might become a favored slave, valued for his skill and expertise.
Unfortunately, that talent sealed his family's doom. With his master amassing gambling debts among the nobility of Egorian, he was forced to sell some of the House assets to pay his dues. Amon found himself at the age of nine winters in the flesh auction in the public square in Egorian, being sold to the highest bidder. The bidding was fierce, and when the dust settled, he found himself the property of a wealthy merchant from Westcrown.
Life in Westcrown was similar to that of Egorian, save the absence of his parents. Amon served the merchant for a dozen years, treated remarkably well in recognition of the value of his talents. Amon almost convinced himself that life in Westcrown wasn't that bad, all things considered. His luck changed, however, when his master was accused of heresy by a cleric of Asmodeus who coveted his riches. Arrested and dragged out of his home for a mock trial, he was executed in a flashy public display to distract from the motives of the cleric. In the resulting chaos, Amon grabbed what he could from the wealth of the house and ran into the streets, not quite certain where to go, but knowing that just about anything was preferable to worshipper of Asmodeus.
After several bewildering nights on the street, he stumbled into the back of a man while walking along the docks. Luckily for Amon, this happened to be an itinerant priest of Iomedae who was serving as a ship's surgeon on a frigate docked in the bay. He became intrigued by Amon's story, and insight from his god revealed that Amon's gifts came in fact from Iomedae. The old man taught Amon of the Bellflower Network, and soon Amon was taking refuge with the secretive organization, helping others like him escape from slavery.
Question of Doom
|Octavia 'Tavi' Delphina|
"What would you do, personally, to improve the conditions in Westcrown? I mean there's night terrors, an indifferent mayor, devils, thieves, the city is a shade of it's former, glorious self. What would you do, if you had the chance?"
Amon winces slightly, as though pained. "It seems overwhelming when you put it like that, doesn't it? With so many problems and so few willing to help, a poor soul wouldn't know where to start. Or even if he should start, since he's likely to suffer the wrath of what he fights against." He absent-mindedly rubs his holy symbol like a worry stone, sewn inconspicuously into the inner wrist cuff of his shirt. "I used to feel that way, you know. I almost gave into it - the helplessness, the apathy. You think you can do so little that it isn't even worth the effort. Like trying to stop the rain from falling or the wind from blowing." He looks out the window as he speaks, keeping an eye on the foot traffic passing by the safehouse. "So many despair, and so many cry in sorrow. Those who should be working to lift the people's burdens gorge themselves in excess. They fritter away their pointless lives in making other people miserable. The people of Westcrown are their playthings, to be used and discarded. It demeans the soul and crushes the spirit."
He pauses for a moment, then turns and fixes a penetrating gaze on you. "But as I said, that is how I used to be. I have a purpose, now. I have direction. I work for the betterment of my fellow man. If I were to pick one thing of all the evils that plague Westcrown, one thing that I wish most of all to change, it would be the cancerous tumor that is the government and nobility. I free their slaves and liberate their captives, and in so doing chisel away at the foundation of their excess. That, dear friend, is what I would do."
Question of Doom!
I envision playing Elwyn as the ‘unexpected hero’ … he is thrown into circumstances that are beyond his control. He must summon the ability to survive, find and hone his skills and ultimately thrive.
First of all, Elwyn is at a crucial point in his life right now. Full of questions, doubt and anger. Ultimately he was brought up well by his father, his compass points in the right direction but it may not be a direct path. His anger may be misplaced and misdirected until he learns to channel it properly … as he moves past the selfish desire for revenge to the selfless pursuit of redemption and restoration. There is a hero and a leader lurking inside of him, one that could do great things. But first he needs to figure out where tomorrow’s work will come from, where he will be sleeping next week.
Your question finds Elwyn at the right moment. It is late and Elwyn has been at Visio’s tavern for some time now. The hour is late and he has imbibed just enough of the tavern master’s house ale to break down a few of the walls he has put up over the years. His mood is relaxed, free, even contemplative. The conversation between Elwyn and his drinking partner, a filthy looking human named Aiman that he met that morning as they found day laborer work, has spun off into tales of what could be.
“I could do something you know, really do something. My father told me that it wasn’t always this way. They can’t control everything, not forever, they won’t control me.”
“I don’t think they know or care who you are, and if they did they’d care even less about what you are doing. Besides who are they? There probably is no THEY, you’re just paranoid.” Quipped Aiman.
Elywn half shrugs off the comment, his heart beginning to surge in his chest. “I’ve seen what greed and prejudice can do. I’ve seen the lies and the hate. Worst of all I’ve seen them get away with it … some look the other way, some cover things up. And nothing is ever done about it, no one holds them to account. Meanwhile the rest of them sit back content that there is a mask of order … driven by fear.”
“Not me, they won’t have me as their puppet. They won’t have me as their victim either. They’ll have the fight of their life on their hands,” he boasts.
“Now you’re dreaming. Either that or you’re crazy”, jabbed Aiman.
Elwyn’s pupils narrow as he looks straight ahead in a dead stare, his body frozen. “I will find them, make them pay for what they’ve done, and I will make it right. Any of them. All of them. And I don’t care what I have to do to make it happen.”
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