DM Ragnarok's Rise of the Runelords Table 1

Game Master DM Ragnarok

Lands of the Shriikirri-Quah, 4711

"I'm sorry, kid."

This was what Chejop had been listening to the whole morning. He could feel there were no real feelings in it. The people of the Shriikirri-Quah barely tolerated his mixed blood. But his father had been a fine clansman, so yeah... actually, they were sorry, but not for Chejop.

Chejop's father had died the night before. A wild animal had entered the settlement and sneaked into Chejop's house. His father died defending him, buying time until the rest of the warriors came in and killed the beast. He died a hero. Defending his son, a potential hero. But Chejop didn't felt a hero, today or ever.

One of Chejop's few real friends entered the hut. At the sight of the brave dead warrior, dressed for battle and with all his panoply, the boy muted. He stood there for a minute before daring to speak. "Ch- Chejop... I know it's not... well... Some of the guys are..."

Chejop turned to look at his friend. "Already?" The other boy nodded. Chejop felt a wave of mixed feelings flooding his soul. Fear, hate, indignation... The other boys were going to give him a beating. Just because her mother had been different. And he was no adult, not yet - so he was going to be given to another adult's charge until he was old enough. Not much, barely a year, but to Hell with it.

Chejop look his friend in the eyes and put a hand on his shoulders. "Thank you."

It was time Chejop walked away from hate and fear.

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When Chejop was born, some stars were aligned somehow. He was supposed to be a hero, or someone important. His father even paid for a shaman to tattoo some protective symbols on the kid. Instead, the child was never accepted in his tribe. He was never considered a brother in the Shriikirri-Quah. Born of mixed heritage, he was scorned at and never treated as an equal. He was only tolerated because he was the son of a skilled craftsman and warrior but, when his father died, Chejop felt it was time to go search his own destiny away from there.

On his wandering through Varisia, Chejop met Kejak, an old priest devout of Sarenrae, who quickly empathized with the youngling's good will and tormented past. Thinking him a good believer and potential militant, he taught him the ways of the Dawnflower and introduced him to the Sarenite church. Kejak even took Chejop on a journey to his natal Qadira, so the boy could witness the greatness of the cult there.

Sarenrae took the decision of calling old Kejak to her side, and Chejop was on his own again. Feeling he was bound to lose the people he loved most, his faith began to tremble. When asking the Lady of Dawn for a sign, thought, he was answered - in the nearby town of Sandpoint, a cathedral was being built. He directed his feet there and helped finish the construction, taking part in the events that happened afterwards.

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Chejop is a tough half-orc, big and strong. He is a living example of mixed cultures - raised and despised by his Shoanti side, viewed as a rustic by the Varisian, too orcish to be human and too human to be orc. He's usually a straightforward guy who doesn't like injustice, and has found shelter and caring in the cult of Sarenrae. He was quite new to the world when coming to Sandpoint for the first time, since he had always had a paternal or tutorial figure, but the events made him mature quickly. For one that has always felt a foreigner, having had his minute of glory here in Sandpoint made him think if this would be a good place to stay once everything is sorted out. He has shown some interest in Hemlock's work and sometimes wonders what made the man leave his quah and become a curator in a foreign land.

Gideon was a precocious young Varisian child (last of five boys) whom 15 years ago was the sole survivor of an ogre attack on his village. He was saved by some traveling merchants who dropped off the young child at a Temple in Magnimar, where the young child was educated in the ways of a scribe. He found he had an appetite for knowledge and new facts. His keen intelligence and memory soon garnered him attention from the disciplines of magic in the city. Gideon chose to advance his knowledge of magic and specialize in the school of foresight and divining the future, so as to never suffer a loss like his family's death.

However, he not only wanted to train his mind but his body as well. Secretly, he trained with a monk named Sajan who found his devotion to the perfection of the body admirable, though he did see a lot of pain in the young man's eyes from an incident that haunted him. He trained Gideon in the techniques of the fist and the sword and he grew stronger every year. He hid his bulky muscles underneath the wrapping of his scribe's robes.

5 weeks ago when he turned 20 years of age, Gideon said goodbye to both disciplines and made his way back home to Sandpoint. He has not forgotten the pain of his family's loss and only vengeance stirs his heart. He will rid the region of all ogres and giants in his family's honor. It is his sacred oath and duty and what he has trained for since the beginning. However, he will stop by Sandpoint for the festival and pay his respects to the shrines located there before he sets off on his quest.

Personality: Unless combat is warranted, Gideon acts as the scribe and book nerd that he is. He is a fountain of knowledge and information and will lend a hand when asked. He likes to read people, using his keen eye to detail and wisdom to sense the lies people tell. Once you have his friendship, he is an ally for life. He has some deep trauma from his experiences as a child and he harbors giants of all kinds an irrational hatred.

Role: Knowledge skills, striker (with ki, he can attack 3x on a flurry of blows up to 5x per day doing 1d8+10 on each strike w/o crits), and some arcane support.

Come closer, friend, let me tell you a tale so that we might tell a tale together:

This is a tale of a Half-Elf named Golwen Virai. His tale started many years ago when he was born to a Varisian Human Father and a beautiful Elven Priestess of Desna who traveled together for some time. His mother came from other lands and as a priestess of Desna had many responsibilities afar, forcing her to leave Golwen and his father to fend for each other. They moved to Riddleport perhaps one of the few places that Golwen might be treated with some decency. His father was a more Roguish figure who knew some basic arcane training, he made connections with the local thieves guild and did work as necessary to support the pair.

Golwen spent a lot of his childhood reading and learning, Riddleport was better than most for Half-Elves but still not great, so he stuck to the books and tales from his father to learn. His natural curiosity made this a natural affair, and as he grew he began to develop a great interest in a great many things, arcane magics and great beasties in particular. Golwan's father would teach him parlor tricks during the evenings in order to entertain and delight his son during his younger years. His major arcane training would not come until later years when Golwn would study at the Academae in Korvosa.

As Golwen grew older he began to work for a woman named Faldorn, a Merchant Alchemist that was an associate of the thieve's guild his father worked for. At first, the relationship was rocky as Golwen often spent more time badgering Fadorn about alchemy and various bits of information that her brained held, than actually doing work. Faldorn for her part eventually came to realize that this young lad was not only brilliant but also quite driven and began to teach him Alchemy on the side. Golwen spent roughly 4 years working and tutoring under the aging alchemist before she eventually passed.

At age 20, Golwen finally started to experience the full wanderlust that came about from being the child of a Varsi add a Desnian. He left Riddleport with his father's blessings to set out upon the world. Deciding for himself that he would finally scratch that itch and go out and observe and catalog the various creatures of existence, Golwin began in earnest, only to nearly die not two months into a band of goblins he had been trying to take notes on. Perhaps trying to steal their rum at night for observational notes had been a foolish mistake. The goblins certainly thought so.

Deciding that he was not fully prepared to go out on his own, as he had zero martial skill, Golwen sought another path forward. That path led Golwen the Axademae, at Korsova. Certainly, he could spend a few months there learning a few more magical tricks supplement his alchemical skills in order to be a better collector of information and student of monster lore... Not so, Golwin quickly became wrapped up in the magic and mystique of the Academae, taking particular interest in Conjuration-Summoning magic.

The first few years were quite dreadful, goblins were bad enough, but Golwin's teachers were near slavers when it came to their lessons. Golwin's inherent talent and alchemical shenanigans saw him through those years. Eventually, Golwin sought an apprenticeship with a highly skilled conjurer, once known for bending the rules of magic a little. Under this tutelage, Golwin excelled and as an added bonus began to learn even more about the various creatures that populated Galorian, and the Planes (particularly in so far as summoning is concerned).

After 10 long, grueling, fascinating, death defying, insane, wonderful, hellish, captivating, ghastly, captivating, atrocious, breath-taking years, Golwin graduated with honors in Conjuration Magic, with distinction for Summoning. Diploma in tow, Golwin took off to explore Varisia with the intent of studying the various creatures and publishing a book on them (at the recommendation of his advisor).

This is where we find the past starting to catch up to the present: One year after graduation, Golwin had come to Sandpoint to rest up before setting out on what was sure to be a thrilling (and likely exceedingly dangerous) hunt for the Sandpoint devil! Imagine how much such a creature would help his book sell!

That was until a bunch of those pain in the butt goblins attacks and the events of the AP commenced.

Character Inspiration:Volo

About Me:
Male, 28. Been playing Pathfinder for about 5 years now, but have experience going back even further in Pathfinder and other systems. I used to be a semi-active member of the PbP boards and a lurker on the main boards, but real life became a thing and I stayed off the boards for a few years. I'm interested in hopping in on a long term PbP, preferably an AP, and it just so happens that Rise is on the top of my list as far as interest. I'd love nothing more than to spend a few years (or however long it takes) to see it to completion. So I hope you will certainly consider me and I wish you best of luck with both tables regardless!

"Bad times have value. These are occasions a good learner would not miss."

-Modified Emerson quote.

A driven pursuer of monster lore. His passion for collecting information about, and witnessing the various creatures that walk the land knows few boundaries. This Half-Elf is fearless within the context of this as well, willing to brave great storms on the sea, or a climb upon a frosty mountain, all in hope of a quick glimpse and perhaps something more (for Monster Lore of course!).

Golwen is a fairly gregarious person, his eccentricities do not deny him a fondness of others. Driven, curious, energetic all aptly describe the fellow. He takes a pleasant tone for the most occasion, as he see's little reason to be impolite (his Pappy taught him better than that).

He has an odd quirk of naming the various creatures he studies along with is his assistants (summons). Naming them helps add character in his mind, and better enables him to remember specific details. Monster Lore, like history, needs a good spinning of events to keep things interesting.

Takes mistreatment in stride, life as a Half-Elf, eh?

Believes in helping others as needed. Strong sense of commitment to others born from his father and from the sort of prejudice he had often experienced.

Loves to talk about his writing projects.

Too curious for his own good.

(I really like the look of the photo on the Mythweavers Sheet as a canvas).

Besides pointy ears, he has good looks, if you like elves. He was blessed by his mother with the exotic beauty of Elvenkind painted upon a Human canvas.

Golwen has a lean build, usually wearing his adventuring gear and clothing (only because he has to!). He likes to appear somewhat stylish, not quite pushing vanity, but enough to take a second glance at any outfit he wears that isn't his norm garb. His thinking is that the better you look, the more likely people are to talk with you, the more people you talk with, the more you learn.

He wears extremely light armor for the most basic of protection. Over the armor, he traditionally wears the robes of a scholar or an explorer's outfit, depending on if he is seeking information in taverns or dungeons. Prefers to wear reds and blacks (the colors of his alama mater), with brown and silver mixed in, The Acadamae. The back of his primary jacket carries the heraldry of it as well:
"The coat of arms of the Acadamae is coloured in the red and black of Cheliax. A red crowned portcullis sits below an arch of seven small, red stars, which both are below a large red star; all are on a black field. The arms are supported by two imps. A red crystal ball on red silk surmounts the coat of arms."

Enjoys slightly bulkier clothing that helps improve upon his slimmer figure. He is not particularly muscular.

When engaging with someone he often takes on a focused look, he doesn't like to miss information and therefore does his best to focus in on the specific task he has his mind to. Unfortunately, sometimes this leads to him staring a little too intently or perhaps ignoring personal boundaries.

Silverish Blond hair and yellowish/brown tinted eyes.

Two bandoliers noticeably strapped across the chest which contains an assortment of alchemical items/weapons and extracts.

Quentin Mavek
Male human (Varisian) fighter 3/psychic 3/gestalt 3 (Pathfinder RPG Occult Adventures 60)
LG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +2
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Defense
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AC 20, touch 11, flat-footed 19 (+9 armor, +1 Dex)
hp 39 (3d10+9)
Fort +5, Ref +3, Will +3 (+1 vs. fear)
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft. (20 ft. in armor)
Melee cold iron dagger +6 (1d4+3/19-20) or
. . mwk longsword +8 (1d8+3/19-20) or
. . mwk whip +8 (1d3+3 nonlethal) or
. . silver warhammer +6 (1d8+3/×3)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with masterwork whip)
Special Attacks phrenic amplification (will of the dead[OA]), phrenic pool (3 points)
Psychic Spell-Like Abilities (CL 3rd; concentration +6)
. . 1/day—detect thoughts (DC 13)
Psychic Spells Known (CL 3rd; concentration +6)
. . 1st (6/day)—entropic shield, magic missile, mind thrust I[OA] (DC 14), murderous command[UM] (DC 14)
. . 0 (at will)—detect magic, light, mage hand, mending, read magic
. . Psychic Discipline Warp
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Statistics
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Str 17, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 7, Cha 14
Base Atk +3; CMB +9 (+11 bull rush, +11 drag, +11 overrun, +11 sunder); CMD 20 (22 vs. bull rush, 22 vs. drag, 22 vs. overrun, 22 vs. sunder)
Feats Combat Expertise, Combat Stamina, Deadly Aim, Iron Will, Power Attack, Powerful Maneuvers, Skill Focus, Skill Focus (Knowledge [religion]), Weapon Focus, Weapon Focus
Traits adopted, caravan drover, deft dodger, scholar of the ancients
Skills Acrobatics -3 (-7 to jump), Climb +3, Diplomacy +6, Handle Animal +6, Knowledge (arcana) +10, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +8, Knowledge (engineering) +7, Knowledge (geography) +7, Knowledge (history) +8, Knowledge (local) +8, Knowledge (nature) +7, Knowledge (nobility) +7, Knowledge (planes) +8, Knowledge (religion) +12, Linguistics +7, Perception +2, Spellcraft +7 (+9 to identify effects of the conjuration (calling), conjuration (summoning), conjuration (teleport), and illusion (shadow) subschools), Swim +3
Languages Common, Giant, Goblin, Orc, Thassilonian, Varisian, Varisian
SQ agile maneuvers, armor training 1, combat expertise, deadly aim, improved bull rush, improved drag, improved overrun, improved sunder, planar scent, point-blank shot, power attack, psi-tech discovery (kinetic enhancement [+3]), rift reach, weapon finesse
Combat Gear potion of cure light wounds (4), alchemist's fire (2), alkali flask[APG] (2), antiplague[APG], antitoxin, holy water (2); Other Gear mwk full plate, cold iron dagger (2), mwk longsword, mwk whip, silver warhammer, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, masterwork backpack[APG], prismatic crystal[OA], silk rope (50 ft.), spell component pouch, torch (2), trail rations (5), waterskin, 105 gp, 4 cp
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Special Abilities
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Agile Maneuvers [Combat Trick] For a Combat Maneuver, treat self as size category larger for each 2 Stamina spent (up to Dex bonus)
Armor Training 1 (Ex) Worn armor -1 check penalty, +1 max DEX.
Combat Expertise +/-1 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack.
Combat Expertise [Combat Trick] Ignore penalty from Combat Expertise for stamina spent.
Deadly Aim -1/+2 Trade a penalty to ranged attacks for a bonus to ranged damage.
Deadly Aim [Combat Trick] 4 stamina points reduce penalty from Deadly Aim by 1.
Improved Bull Rush [Combat Trick] Spend stamina points up to Str or Dex bonus, bonus to CMD against Bull Rush equal to stamina spent.
Improved Drag [Combat Trick] Spend stamina points up to Str/Dex, bonus against drag equal to stamina spent.
Improved Overrun [Combat Trick] Spend stamina points up to Str/Dex, bonus against overrun equal to stamina spent.
Improved Sunder [Combat Trick] Spend stamina points up to Str/Dex, bonus against sunder equal to stamina spent.
Kinetic Enhancement (+3) Bonus on combat maneuvers and checks to break or lift objects.
Phrenic Pool (3/day) (Su) Pool of points you can use to modify psychic spells as they're cast.
Planar Scent (Su) Constant detect magic for conjuration (calling/summoning/teleport), illusion (shadow) effects.
Point-Blank Shot [Combat Trick] Up to 6 stamina points to increase Point-Blank range by 5 ft per stamina spent.
Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Power Attack [Combat Trick] 2 stamina points to use Power Attack only until end of turn, instead of the start of the next turn.
Powerful Maneuvers You don't provoke attacks of opportunity when bull rushing.
Rift Reach (10 feet, 3 rounds, 5/day) (Su) Move action to tear open a rent in reality, just big enough to reach an arm through.
Weapon Finesse [Combat Trick] 2 stamina points to negate shield's armor check penalty on attack rolls.
Weapon Focus (Flails)
Weapon Focus (Heavy Blades)
Will of the Dead (Su) 2 pool: overcome undead creature's immunity to mind-affecting effects for linked spell.
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Future Feats:

4. Whip Mastery
5. Improved Whip Mastery
7. Deft Maneuvers
9. Balor Whip
11. Quick Drag
13. Improved Balor Whip
15. Quicken Spell
16. Greater Vital Strike

Quentin Mavek had an unusual childhood. After a rogue hill giant left him orphaned at age five, he was adopted by Refkin Mavek, a rather rough but honest half-orc that ran a trade caravan between Varisia's major cities of Magnimar, Korvosa and Riddleport. While growing up on the road could be quite difficult at times—not to mention dangerous, exhausting and smelly—Quentin learned a great many useful skills from his adoptive father.

When Quentin was 15, a scholar named Ruben Coddsworth joined the caravan on his way from Magnimar to Korvosa. Along the trip, Quentin spent each night transfixed by the wondrous tales Ruben would tell of history and magic, monsters and heroes, and even a bit of his own faith. By the end of the trip, Quentin had made up his mind. He approached his father, and began a stream of well rehearsed explanations about why he was ready to leave the caravan and why he should be allowed to leave. Refkin managed to stay quiet and still faced during the barrage of teenage exuberance until finally, once Quentin had finished, a slow smile crept across the weathered half-orc's face. "It's about time!" he had said. "By the time I was your age, I had already worked three different jobs and had bought the first carts that made up this caravan."

With his father's blessing and Ruben's invitation, Quentin spent the next five and a half years devouring the information hidden away in Ruben's libraries. During his stay, he often accompanied his patron to services for Iomedae's faithful and became fascinated by the stories of her path from common paladin, to deific herald, and finally becoming a god in her own right. While the church itself never really appealed to him, Quentin often sought to emulate Iomedae's example. Ultimately, it was this idolatry that drove him to leave Ruben's side and strike out on his own, traveling and helping people as best he could as he went.

Eventually, his wandering led him to Sandpoint, where he had the good fortune to arrive just in time to help drive off a band of murderous goblins. Not one to leave the job unfinished, Quentin teamed up with a few other capable hands to investigate, and was shocked when their investigations of a hidden Thassilonian ruin beneath Sandpoint awoke latent psychic powers within him. Now Quentin is driven by a dual purpose, to help others as Iomedae had done, and to understand the strange new power growing within him.

3d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 4, 2) + 6 = 17= 15
3d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 6, 6) + 6 = 21= 18
3d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 4, 4) + 6 = 19= 15
3d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 2, 1) + 6 = 15= 14
3d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 6, 2) + 6 = 19= 17
3d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 2, 1) + 6 = 12= 11

As a child Siobhan was defined by fearlessness. A natural leader, she was always the instigator and ringleader of whatever pranks and mischief the local youth were involved in. Combined with her seemingly miraculous ability to open locks at a touch, not a store of biscuits, sugar or other sweet things was safe in the whole village.

That changed on a fateful night when the eleven-year-old Siobhan snuck out on a dare to explore one of the tombs in the Pharasmin cemetery outside the village. She was able to enter the tombs easily enough, which surprised her but she continued on into the burial crypt intending to secure a shard of bone and conclusively win her dare.

Unfortunately for Siobhan the tomb she had chosen, the largest, darkest and scariest, was the resting place of a particularly foul and embittered nobleman whose spirit had returned after his death as a dread wraith. Siobhan had not noticed the warning signs the Church had posted and thus confronted a monster literally out of her nightmares.

The wraith appeared in its full hideousness, hoping to draw screams from the small girl before feeding on her. Siobhan realized she could not escape and remained as brave as she could, staring down the wraith in front of her. As she did so, the darkness behind her swirled and formed itself into a terrible visage, glowering protectively above the young girl’s head.

The sheer malevolence of this visage tore the wraith to pieces, shredding its incorporeal form even as Siobhan watched. As the tormented spirit faded Siobhan collapsed onto the floor, drained beyond endurance by the eldritch power that had used her as a conduit.

She lay there unmoving for two days, before an acolyte of Pharasma found her and hurried her to the temple. Lying in the cold crypt Siobhan had caught a fever which resisted the ministrations of the healers for weeks before the child finally pulled through. The fever left its mark however, gone was the previously chubby and cheerful child. Siobhan was now an extremely slender child, her dark hair turned completely white and she became prone to illness, often bedridden for days or weeks with colds and the other ailments of childhood.

It wasn’t for another year or so that the most significant change appeared though. First her twelfth, then thirteenth and finally fourteenth birthdays went by before Siobhan and her parents finally realised what had happened. A visit to specialists in Magnimar, paid with what little remained of the Deverin inheritance that her father had received, confirmed the diagnosis. Siobhan had stopped growing and was, as best the magical specialists could deduce, stuck in her eleven year old body forever.

The next few years were a dark time for Siobhan. Unable to grow up physically she was isolated, unable to join the friends she had known since childhood. As she grew older she became more and more withdrawn, delving deep into books until she could argue points of Ancient Thassalonia with the best. She eventually found friendship in the form of Brodert Quink, who was so much older than her that him calling her child never grated as much, especially when he did the same to her mother!

Over time Sandpoint became used to the strange not-child in their midst and Siobhan stopped attracting stares and whispers in the streets. ‘Cousin Kendra’ taking over the mayorship helped as well and, until recently, Siobhan has lived a quiet and stubbornly independent life in Sandpoint. The quiet has been a good thing, because the power inside Siobhan, the power that saved her life, has not been dormant all this time…