DragonSon's Wrath of the Righteous

Game Master Ryuko

Originally a day of study for avoiding the mistakes of history, since Aroden's death Armasse has been a week of training for the commonfolk and tournaments for the more skilled. Anytime during the week of Armasse one can wander down to the Temple of the Inheritor near the Citadel and learn a few minor miracles, or into the track to learn the basics of combat riding. No Master, no matter how storied, turns away anyone attempting to learn on Armasse. The first day of Armasse is a massive day of revelry which trails a bit into the entire week, with the whole event having a raucous and fun atmosphere. The draw of midweek days lies mostly in the tournaments, including jousting, archery, duels, and magical contests both divine and arcane. These are always opened at noon with massive crowds. The day in question is the third, before the noon ceremony.

While I allow all races, I'm much more interested in you taking a core race or class and doing something more interesting with them than I am in your Tiefling Paladin who wields two oversized broadswords and starts with a 22 STR. Optimization is fine, but it is nothing at all without an interesting story to back it up. I'm also a fan of characters with flaws. Fears and doubts are more interesting than perfection.

This particular AP plays extremely well with good alignments, but they are not required. A desire to protect the world and/or kill demons is good enough for me as long as you get along with the party. Interparty conflict is fine, interplayer conflict is not.

If you have a crazy idea, run it by me! I love builds I've never seen or heard of, and you'd be shocked at what I'd allow most of the time, just don't be mad if I tone it down later. The game is a social contract, and if something is causing others not to have fun, I'm going to ask you to change it, even if I OK'ed it before.

Play by Post is a fun environment, but certain things just don't belong in it. Your tripping bodyguard build will need a heck of a story for me to pick him over others, mostly because you'll need to be there every single time someone tries to move through your square, or I'm going to have to roll for you. That grows tiresome. As much as I personally love builds that break the traditional turn structure, there's a time and place and this is not it.

Rule Number 1 For Me: Never forget this is just a game. Real life always comes first. I'm a busy person and my posting structure is generally closer to once every couple days than once a day. Sometimes I've got time to spare and I post a lot more. I ask that you post at least once every couple of days, but if life gets in the way that's OK. Life's more important.

Abigail's full story begins long before she was born. Her parents came from Celestial origins and would travel Mendev helping those in need and battling the demons of the Worldwound; concentrating their efforts in and around Kenares. But their lives became complicated when her mother was with child.
Trey was born many years before Abigail, but the presence of a child touched by celestial origins was dangerous for the Merosa family.

The family was forced to flee Kenabres and they headed south. They were marked beings, an attraction to the demons of the Worldwound.

They were unable to escape the pursuit of the demons. It was as if someone or something was tracking them.

They eventually reached Thornstep in Razmiran. Once there Trey was given to an Orphanage to be cared for. It would seem that this act abated the demon pursuit for a bit. What became of Trey can be found here, as she ended up in an Orphanage in Korvosa.

--- Fast forward a few years ---

Abigail was born just outside the small town of Willip in fertile farmlands of Numeria, to the name of Abigail Merosa, Daughter of Jonathon and Krista Merosa. Abigail and her family never truly called anyplace home since they traveled quite frequently. Jonathon was a well-known salesman among the locals, frequently providing healing salves and ointments to many people at a price that anyone could afford. "People are always more important than Profit" He would always say. Except for not having a steady home Abigail was as happy as any girl could be. She loved her parents as much as girl could.

When Abigail was only 12, raiders attacked her family and took all three prisoner. They were sold to slavers and split up among different buyers. Abigail was a servant for an abusive noble family that wanted to keep their slave trade a secret living on a plantation about 10 miles north of Kenabres. Jonathon ended up in the heart of the Worldwound, as was Krista. What happened during their time away is unknown to Abigail.

Abigail worked hard for her master, Lord Falis, but despite her horrid living conditions and continuous beatings at the cruel hand of the work master, Abigail always had hope and faith. Each night she would pray an angel would come and take her away. Little did she know that Sarenrae was listening to her.

Abigail had a good heart; she never believed that she had a pure heart. Perhaps her innocence kept it pure or perhaps it was by the design of the gods, no mortal will ever know for sure. After 2 years Sarenrae answered her prayers but not directly.

An unnatural wind drove a ship toward Thornstep arriving there at just the right time to intercept a slave trader leaving port. Now this misguided ship had among her crew a band of adventurers, one of which recognized the slaver's ship and a battle soon followed. Taking the slave master prisoner the group learned of other being held captive and their mission became clear. These adventurers saved Jonathon and Krista from the torments they were enduring, which lead these adventurers back to Kenabres to free Abigail. Could it be coincidence? Or did the gods have some influence in the course of events? That is uncertain but the fact remains that this group of heroes freed Abigail and her family. But freedom did not come without a price. Krista died on the ship during childbirth, and the child? He is the bastard brother of Abigail; Krista was raped and beaten numerous times in her captivity this child was the result of those devices.

As pure as Abigail's heart was; her brother's was black and vile. With the blood of murderers, slavers, and demon warlords coursing through his veins it could be said that the balance was maintained.

One among the adventurers sensed the evil in the child and tossed it overboard. But a dark, demonic force brought deliverance to the child.

What happened to the child is unknown to Abigail but when the time is right she will know.

The adventurers arrived after many months of travel to the plantation where Abigail was enslaved. But what they thought to be an easy victory over some stuffy noble turned into an Epic battle. For Lord Falis was a demonic servant of great power, he was able to bring many demons to bear upon the heroes. Jonathon sought out Abigail while the battle raged on covering the entire plantation. Many minions of the "hells" that escaped the fury of the adventurers were moving among the slaves slaughtering them in a seemingly systematic genocide. Jonathon's failing health from age got the better of him and he was unable to escape the swath of Lemures that raged unchecked among the slaves. Abigail screamed to her father but he lay unmoving in a pool of blood. Abigail ran to her father's side. There she was seeing the life ebb from him. Abigail prayed to the angels and soon she felt the power of Sarenrae course through her and her father. She now believed that the angels of her dreams were real; the angel had a name, Sarenrae.

The angels did not grant life back to her father but instead took his life force and gave it to Abigail infusing her with power she never realized. Grabbing the spear her father was carrying she turned to face the creatures approaching. Then with an angelic fury she began to turn the battle to her favor, fighting with the strength of the heavens.

Abigail collapsed after the battle was over. When she awoke there was a new wisdom in her eyes. She asked for her father, for surely the angels would have given him back to her. But it was not to be. His soul was now a part of her forever. The adventurers told Abigail all that occurred on the journey. Now her father gone and her mother dead she had to move on. She carries with her the soul of her father and the heart of her mother. The pain brought on by the events of that battle Abigail vowed to try and to never take the life of an innocent.

Abigail took on the craft her father had before but now with a new meaning. With Sarenrae's light shining within her, she will give aid to those needing it. Sarenrae will provide her with the means to live. Her help will be free to help end the suffering of innocents and stop the influence of demonic powers in the world. Seek to find a sign of hope in a land of evil and be aware of the evil in the hearts of even the best of paladins.

Abigail's journeys, whether by chance or by fate have brought her to Kenabres; the place where it all started many years before she was even born.

Abigail had unknowingly cast Death Knell on her father killing him and giving her more strength. She also was blessed with the following spells for the combat: Bless, Bull strength, Protection from evil, Magic weapon, magic circle against chaos, magic vestment, Divine favor, resistance, protection from elements (fire), and weapon (+1 holy short spear). She has felt the angel's power in this sequence of events and has been forever enriched by them. This was a one time event that was a result of being touched divinely.

The effect of what happened grants her the touched by divinity campaign trait.

Abigail will be a cleric.

Also Abigail is Aasimar and will most likely be utilizing channel feats as well as the angelic blood line of feats.

As mentioned the Touched by divinity trait and probably the sacred Conduit trait.

Abigail Merosa
Aasimar Cleric 1
NG Medium outsider (native)
Init +0; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +5
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Defense
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AC 12, touch 10, flat-footed 12 (+2 armor)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +3, Ref +0, Will +5; +2 vs. [evil], +2 vs. Mind-Affecting effects of Evil Outsiders.
Resist acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee shortspear +0 (1d6)
Special Attacks channel energy
Spell-Like Abilities
. . 1/day—daylight
Cleric Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +4):
1st (2/day)—bless, magic weapon, cure light wounds
0 (at will)—stabilize, detect magic, enhanced diplomacy
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 12, Wis 17, Cha 17
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 10
Feats Angelic Blood
Traits demon-proof mind, sacred conduit, touched by divinity
Skills Diplomacy +9, Heal +9, Perception +5, Sense Motive +7; Racial Modifiers +2 Diplomacy, +2 Perception
Languages Celestial, Common, Elven
SQ aura, domains (glory, healing), rebuke death, spontaneous casting, touch of glory, variant channeling (disease variant channeling [±1 sacred])
Combat Gear Antitoxin, Healer's kit; Other Gear Leather armor, Shortspear, Backpack, masterwork (7 @ 11 lbs), Bedroll, Belt pouch (10 @ 0 lbs), Holy symbol, silver (Sarenrae), Scroll case (empty), Spell component pouch, Tindertwig (10), Trail rations (5), Waterskin, 58 GP, 4 SP
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TRACKED RESOURCES
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Antitoxin - 0/1
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 1d6 (6/day) (DC 16) (Su) - 0/6
Daylight (1/day) (Sp) - 0/1
Healer's kit (10/10 uses remaining) - 0/10
Rebuke Death (6/day) (Sp) - 0/6
Shortspear - 0/1
Tindertwig - 0/10
Touch of Glory (6/day) (Sp) - 0/6
Touched by Divinity (Healing) (1/day) - 0/1
Trail rations - 0/5
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Special Abilities
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Angelic Blood +2 saves vs. evil effects, to stabilize while dying, and 1 damage to evil or undead if bleeding.
Antitoxin This substance counteracts a specific toxin. If you drink a vial of antitoxin, you gain a +5 alchemical bonus on Fortitude saving throws against poison for 1 hour.

Alchemical Power Component
Like antiplague, this substance can augment certain healing spells.
Neutralize Poison (M): Add +2 on your caster level check to neutralize poison on a target creature. Antitoxin has no effect when you cast the spell on an object.
Aura (Ex) The Cleric has an aura corresponding to his deity's alignment.
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 1d6 (6/day) (DC 16) (Su) Positive energy heals the living and harms the undead; negative has the reverse effect.
Cleric Domain (Glory) Granted Powers: You are infused with the glory of the divine, and are a true foe of the undead. In addition, when you channel positive energy to harm undead creatures, the save DC to halve the damage is increased by 2.
Cleric Domain (Healing) Granted Powers: Your touch staves off pain and death, and your healing magic is particularly vital and potent.
Damage Resistance, Acid (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Acid attacks.
Damage Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Cold attacks.
Damage Resistance, Electricity (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Electricity attacks.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Disease Variant Channeling (±1 Sacred) Heal ability damage/Sicken
Rebuke Death (6/day) (Sp) Heal 1d4 damage to creatures at negative HP.
Spontaneous Casting The Cleric can convert stored spells into Cure or Inflict spells.
Touch of Glory (6/day) (Sp) Grant +1 to a CHA-based skill or ability check.

click for pic

Fairly unsophisticated; mechanically I'm planning for a straight-on Paladin (Divine Defender archetype) and some Leadership traits/feats. Blazing sword and shining shield, holding the line and rallying the forces of good to drive the darkness back.

In terms of Mythic development I'm planning on the Marshal path, obviously.

Always vigilant, Elena came to the festivities in full gear. She spend a great deal of time scanning the crowd for evil, as she paid particular notice to the part fiends and half orcs nearby. At the best of times, half orcs were brutal, and evil at the worst. And best not even to comment on the part fiends. She made a point to scan both of them for evil as she settles into an open spot, next to a blonde human, this one with much shorter hair. "Greetings, I'm Elena. Looking forward to the festivities?"

The paladin was tall with a regal bearing. Her chain mail gleamed in the sunlight, and her shield and sword were strapped to her. A prominent medallion with Iomedae's symbol was worn proudly on her chest, as well as her shield. Elena made sure her armor and shield were polished to a pristine shine. Present well in public as you are a vessel of the Inheritor was one of the teachings she recalled.

DM, not sure how many people you intend on taking for this party, but I think Elena would be a perfect 5th party member. She can help with both melee fighting, as well as arcane support. She wouldn't be forced into specializing in either as a 5th wheel, and could develop organically as to advancing mostly as a caster or melee masher. As always, thanks for the consideration.

Life in Umok was difficult, yet more or less peaceful for young Gwyndle, who by all means should have grown to become a craftsman, like his father before him. One errant spark and a blaze later however, that path was ruined for him. Drawn to the accidental, forbidden flame like moths, a local goblin tribe fell upon the settlement, like in the wars long past. However, the skirmish devolved into utter chaos when a demon from the Abyss abruptly burst onto the scene, seemingly arriving from out of nowhere. Panic ensued on both sides as the hideous beast wreaked havoc indiscriminately, slaughtering gnomes and goblins alike, among them Gwyndle’s father. Almost immediately, all swords were turned toward the invader. Even those goblins that were more stupid than cowardly lent their aid, an improbable act of cooperation that ultimately led to the demon’s demise. Not however, before it had managed to grievously wound young Gwyndle, leaving him at death’s doorstep.

In the aftermath of the monster’s rampage, Gwyndle was placed under intensive medical care, just barely kept alive by healing magics. His wounds were closed, leaving only ugly scars that traced where demonic claws had torn into his flesh. Despite surviving his otherwise fatal injuries, he had fallen into a deep coma. For well over a month Gwyndle laid on his bed, unmoving. Over the course of his coma, his skin and hair gradually lost its color, a symptom of the dreaded Bleaching. Many of his kin thought him doomed – and yet, on the thirty-third day, he woke and stood on his own two feet, as though nothing had happened. Although the Bleaching had already progressed to a near-fatal level, Gwyndle seemed perfectly healthy. In what was deemed by his kin to be a miraculous recovery, the gnome had become spryer than ever. Things after the attack seemed to finally start returning to normal, but for Gwyndle, nothing could be further from the truth.

Within the very same week he started to exhibit magical powers far superior to his latent gnomish abilities, despite having no prior arcane training. Gruesome claws sometimes burst forth from his fingertips, much to his dismay. However, what he found most frightening were the nightmares he had each night hence – while he felt like he was at his physical peak, his mind was always utterly exhausted. The fledgling sorcerer did what he could to hide his predicament, but when the charmed animals within Umok grew increasingly uneasy around him, it became evident to his kin that something was terribly wrong. Whether it was because of the Bleaching or some kind of demonic possession they did not know, but Gwyndle’s own people started to fear him.

At his mother’s behest, Gwyndle packed all that he could carry and fled into the night, determined to learn what was happening to him – he thought perhaps, that the new experience would even reverse the Bleaching. Reduced to a nomad, the sorcerer spent his time learning to control his strange abilities, honing the chaotic magic that flowed in his blood. During his travels he often asked for news regarding demons, seeking the origin of his long-felled assailant. Years would pass before he would learn that the demon had come from many miles away – from the Worldwound. Stirred by a strange feeling in his blood, Gwyndle made the long journey to Mendev, seeking more answers.

Male gnome wildblooded sorcerer 1
CG Small humanoid (gnome)
Init +7; Senses Perception +2, low-light vision
Bloodline Brutal
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DEFENSE
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AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 11 (+2 Dex , +1 size)
hp 9 (1d6+3)
Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 against illusion spells and effects
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OFFENSE
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Speed 20 ft.
Melee dagger +1 (1d3/19-20)
Melee claws +1/+1 (1d3/1d3/x2)
Ranged sling +3 (1d3/x2)
Special Attacks
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st)
1/day-dancing lights, ghost sound (DC 13), prestidigitation, speak with animals (DC 14)
Spells Known (CL 1st, concentration +5)
1st (4/day)- color spray (DC 15), grease (DC 14)
0 (at will)-acid splash, detect magic, light, mage hand
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STATISTICS
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Str 10, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 17
Base Atk +0; CMB -1; CMD 11
Feats Eschew Materials, Improved Initiative
Skills *Knowledge (arcana) +5, *Knowledge (planes) +5, Linguistics +2, Perception +2, *Spellcraft +5, Stealth +6
Traits Exposed to Awfulness, Arcane Temper, Unintentional Linguist
Languages Common, Gnome, Sylvan, Draconic, Abyssal
Combat Gear dagger, sling, sling bullets (20)
Other Gear traveler’s outfit, masterwork backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, iron pot, mess kit, soap, torches (10), trail rations (5 days), waterskin
Assets 61 gp, 8 sp
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Gift of Tongues +1 bonus to Bluff and Diplomacy checks, and one additional language is gained with each rank in Linguistics. Replaces defensive training and hatred.
Exposed to Awfulness Once per day, can reroll a save against demonic effects that would kill or physically incapacitate.
Bloodline Arcana Spells that inflict hit point damage inflict an extra 2 hit points of damage to one target.
Claws (Su) Can grow claws as a free action; can be used for 6 (3 + Charisma modifier) rounds per day.

The general plan is to stick with sorcerer, eventually taking the archmage mythic path. His focus will be on conjuration, with him taking some summoning spells at later levels. The darkfire adept seems pretty neat, but its overtones might be too sinister for a good character.

Xaivan watches Yoshida intently as he speaks and looks curiously at the note that was brought with the drink, but says nothing of it. I know all too well of the games played with owing and being owed coin.

When his current company stops speaking he continues to study the Doctor. So, tell me, what do you expect to practice on up in the cairns? Can you raise the dead? I don't plan on getting injured, in fact I haven't made any plans to leave this chair.

The halfling takes a careful sip of his drink. You notice that while he always seems to have refreshment on hand his senses do not appear to suffer from them. Oh, and one word of advice. I'd be careful about who you go about taking whiffs from. Some of these folks here would not take to kindly to a gentleman like yourself doing, ummm, whatever it is your doing. Xavian raises an eyebrow toward his table companion as he gives his free advice.

Ah, one last thing. What adventurers were you expecting to meet? Clearly I am not one of them as I am not the adventurer type, given my height and lack of adventuring skills and experience. I can tell you the best path to your destination but that's about all I can assist you with.

Xavian arrives at the meeting place just at the appointed hour, though his step seems a bit labored after what was likely a long night at the brothel. Good thing I didn't have the coin for that damn red liquid again or I'd really be in bad shape. He gives a faint smile and a nod of good morning to those that have arrived before him.

The halfling looks surprisingly well dressed in his leather armor. The armor looks as if it has been worn only a small number of times, likely to certain formal occasions that require it to be worn in order to gain passage into various galas and parties, it has seen more wine that true battle. The same can be said for the rapier he has at his side and the masterwork backpack on his back. His shortbow and quiver show signs of usage, likely from a time in his youth as they look to be much older than the rest of his belongings.

As requested, Xaivan Slingblade at your service, Xavian states to the party, embellishing the remark with a formal bow. Now that I'm here, would you care to elaborate on exactly what it is we are trying to accomplish? I expect full disclosure, including a look at whatever it was that you three school children were all giddy about at the Dog last night. Oh, where are my manners? Please.

Xaivan can't help but laugh as he sees Zilch nursing his facial wound. Susie has some fight in her, does she? We could have certainly used her to fight off grave robbers and the like. Upon the arrival of the Doctor the halfling also notices the bruise he is sporting and chortles. What's this? Did you pay a visit to the spunky Susie as well? Ha! Xaivan shakes his head, obviously amused.

Gentleman, I have found that the ladies are much more agreeable when you pay them for services. That way they will slap you only if you ask them to... if you are into that sort of thing. Raising an eyebrow toward each of them, Are you? The gambler waits only a very brief moment before waving the question away with his hand. Oh, never mind, don't answer that. One of you already has a curious habit of sniffing people and I'd rather not know anything more.

Approaching Adoris, As you see I am here to pay my debt to you. However, we can't leave until our host arrives. I do hope he isn't late as I know of a potentially profitable game of dice at the Feral Dog this evening and I would prefer to be back into town in time to clean the dust of the cairns from my person.

Xaivan grabs a fresh piece of fruit from his backpack and offers some to each of the party. I brought a nice picnic lunch, as requested. Don't ask where I got it from and you won't be prosecuted for harboring a thief.

If I am to go on this fool's errand I might as well enjoy it. Hmm, I should find a nice walking stick from the stock of the good smith here. I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow one for this walk in the cairns.

Aaliyah
Female Human (Keleshite) Bard (Dawnflower Dervish) 1
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +6; Senses Perception +3
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 14, flat-footed 11 (+1 armor, +4 Dex)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +1
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee scimitar +4 (1d6+4/18-20+2 fire)
Special Attacks bardic performance, bardic performance: countersong, bardic performance: distraction, bardic performance: fascinate, bardic performance: inspire courage, battle dance: inspire courage
Bard (Dawnflower Dervish) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4):
1st (2/day)—cure light wounds, feather step (DC 14)
0 (at will)—detect magic, dancing lights, spark (DC 13), light
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Statistics
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Str 8, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 8, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB -1; CMD 13
Feats Arcane Strike, Dervish Dance, False Focus
Traits flame of the dawnflower, reactionary, touched by divinity
Skills Acrobatics +8, Climb +3, Intimidate +7, Knowledge (religion) +5, Perception +3, Perform (dance) +7, Perform (sing) +7, Sense Motive +3, Stealth +8
Languages Celestial, Common, Kelish
SQ battle dance
Other Gear Padded armor, Scimitar, Backpack, masterwork (4 @ 6.06 lbs), Drug, pesh (2), Holy symbol, silver (Saerenrae), Trail rations (2), Waterskin, 3 GP
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Special Abilities
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Arcane Strike As a swift action, add +1 damage, +1 per 5 caster levels and your weapons are treated as magic for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.
Bardic Performance (standard action) (7 rounds/day) Your performances can create magical effects.
Bardic Performance: Countersong (Su) Counter magical effects that depend on sound.
Bardic Performance: Distraction (Su) Counter magical effects that depend on sight.
Bardic Performance: Fascinate (1 targets) (DC 13) (Su) One or more creatures becomes fascinated with you.
Bardic Performance: Inspire Courage +1 (Su) Morale bonus on some saving throws, attack and damage rolls.
Battle Dance (move action) A Dawnflower dervish is trained in the use of the Perform skill, especially dance, to create magical effects on himself. This works like bardic performance, except that the Dawnflower dervish’s performances grant double their normal bonuses, but thes
Battle Dance: Inspire Courage +2 (Su) Morale bonus on some saving throws, attack and damage rolls.
Dervish Dance Use Dex modifier instead of Str modifier with scimitar
False Focus You can use a divine focus to cast arcane spells.
Flame of the Dawnflower +2 damage with a scimitar on a critical hit.

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Aaliya el-Amin was not born to high standards, instead the daughter of one of Katapesh's high merchant princes and his slave. Her early years were filled with household toil, for while she was legally free she, along with her brother and sister, were not truly allowed freedom in their father's household. As Aaliyah grew older she was eventually trained as a dancer, singer, and entertainment, while her older sibling wasn't deemed talented enough to waste money on such matters.

When her mother died, Aaliya and her siblings discovered a nasty loophole in Katapesh's laws when her father disowned them, then immediately claimed them as slaves rather than blood. Sold off as a lot, Aaliyah quickly found her siblings' well-being held hostage to her good behavior by her new owner (A situation that was also reversed, leading to undeserved punishments.) As an additional measure to help prevent problems, she was introduced to pesh milk just as she was blossoming into womanhood.

But her performances before the elite proved an entertaining enough distraction at various functions that she was eventually allowed some freedom, whereupon she used it to seek escape in the various pleasure dens of the city with her meagre allowance - a place that one as weak as she really should not have been, but nevertheless chose to go as the tiny amount of defiance allowed to her.

When these two lives intersected for the first and only time, disaster struck. Seeking repayment for a debt not owed, men broke into her master's home seeking her, and began to kill anyone they found. Guards awoke, battles were fought...and a scimitar fell to Aaliya's feet just as blades were about to fall on what remained of her family.

At that moment, something changed in Aaliyah's world. Her pesh-induced stupor was penetrated by a serene feeling of enlightenment and clarity. These men around her, the slaver who would beat others to control one, the thugs who would slaughter a household for the sake of a handful of gold. Every one was beyond redemption by the word. Only the sword could truly give them the just reward for the lives they had chosen to lead.

People in the street suddenly heard screams in the voices of angels and men, screaming in fear of cleansing flame and death.

The next day, the authorities found a sobbing girl, covered in blood admist the carnage. Everyone who had held a weapon that night was dead around her, most with a neat slash across a vital spot from a single rusty scimitar, alight with a flame that neither burned nor spread. She put up no resistance when the weapon was taken from her hand, and the flame went out. All testing showed it to be nothing more than a scimitar on the edge of being discarded. And strangest of all, she sat in the eye of an ankh of her victim's blood.

It should have ended there, but for a stray word at a temple of Saerenrae about the incident. For there is a price for everything in Katapesh, and that includes the freedom of a slave who murdered a score of freepersons in the span of a single evening. While there may have been those whose friends were harmed by Aaliyah's actions, the temple took them on, believing this girl may have been destined for great things. Every day in her cell, they brought to her holy texts and attempted to teach her of their goddess. She heard their owrds, and believed she had understood, but every so often she would say something in the words of angels that seemed nonsensical.

Finally, the various negotiations came to an end. Aaliyah could not be simply freed, so instead she was sentenced to journey north. The Pactmasters had devised a particularly ingenious punishment to satisfy all concerned parties - she was to make her way to Mendev, to fight in the Crusades for no less than ten years. There was to be no escort, no way of enforcing the edict. Effectively exile...she was, after all, free to simply ignore it and go where she wished...

...and yet, there was perhaps a destiny involved. Saerenrae had inspired magic from within her soul to come forth, shaped it. It wasn't the truly divine gifts of Her priests, but...perhaps she was meant to do something with it.

"...wait, no one told you I was coming....Yeah, I guess that makes sense. No one really thought I'd be this dumb. Thought I'd just get off the ship and disappear. Why not? Well, I don't really have any other ideas for where to go, do I? ... Does it really matter? I have a sword, and the blessings of my goddess. Does it matter if I'm going to die? .... I suppose that's a point. Well, when I start to get ready for a fight, I start to see the way I should move, the path of the weapon and then...people die. My magic isn't from the goddess, but she gave it to me as part of her gift...so that not all I do is destruction. But it's obvious what She intended for me is to be part of the sword of Her faith, and I can do that here. Yes, I can cast simple healing spells....all right. I'll go grab a bunk."

Aaliyah is primarily a Melancholic/Phlegmatic type, with shades of the Dark Magical Girl archetype to her (Although without much of the flamboyance the genre conventions involved would entail.) With a Sugar and Ice personality, the 'ice' being predominant most of the time, she might seem like she would be prone to being an Ineffectual Loner but she does understand the need to work in groups and will do so without much hesitation. Very definitely The Atoner for her actions the first time she achieved her battle trance. She has aspects to her abilities of the Oracle and Inquisitor classes, and even speaks in tongues under stress. While her pesh addiction may make the battle trances seem Addiction Powered, the truth of the matter is that she really doesn't need it.

Aalyiah, at five and a half feet tall, is average in height for a Kellish woman. Her skin is dusky from a long journey, hair long and tied back in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. Her clothing consists of a long, heavy cotton robe cut in the style of the desert nomads, hiding a frame that is lithe while still being feminine. With dark, mysterious eyes that seem as cold as the frozen north someone like her would live the farthest from, she seems almost an odd figure to be holding onto the silver and gold holy symbol of Saerenrae now in her posession. At her side she has a scimitar, well-worn by age that hasn't seen the best of maintenance lately, as if it had been given to her while she only barely knew how to care for it. When traveling, she has a simple pack slung over her back.

Aaliyah swallows down her fear. While not usually the outgoing sort, she realizes she had been thinking some rather improper thoughts. Whatever he is he isn't beyond discussion. Even if I never see him again... She makes her way towards the tiefling, knight of Asmodeus, and all-around questionable-looking chap...and promptly gives him a small bow, speaking perhaps a little too softly to be heard in the crowded bar unless one has an unusually good sense of hearing. "I'm sorry for my preconceptions sir." After that, she tries to fade back into the crowd in order to fetch a drink from the bar from her pay.

At the suggestion that she stay back, Aaliyah actually bristles a bit. She speaks a long sentence, probably the most anyone here has seen her say at one time, in a flowing, musical language that is almost certainly not Kelish. [spoiler=Celestial]This foul beast will not prevent me from seeing the brilliant light of the sun once again! Charge! BURN THE UNHOLY BEAST! CLEANSE IT LIKE EVERY BLIGHT On the..."

"...land?" Aaliyah's babbling slows to a halt, and the last word is in Common as something seems to 'click' and she realizes there's no danger...well, immediately. The scimitar she is holding suddenly wavers and she has to grab it in her other hand to keep it steady. "...sorry."

So here is my stat breakdown. I avoid min/max and picked a class that I tend not to play.

Race -Halfling

Classes/Levels -Palidin 1

Gender -Male

Size -Small

Age -35

Special Abilities

Aura of good, detect evil, smite evil 1/day

Strength 10
Dexterity 16
Constitution 16
Intelligence 11
Wisdom 10
Charisma 14

Fort:3+2=5 Ref:3+0=3 Will:0+2=2
BaB+1
AC:16 (Sheild+2=18)
HP:13

Knowledge Religion: 1
Acrobatics: 1
Sense Motive: 1

weapon finesse

You are trained in using your agility in melee combat, as opposed to brute strength.

Benefit: With a light weapon, elven curve blade, rapier, whip, or spiked chain made for a creature of your size category, you may use your Dexterity modifier instead of your Strength modifier on attack rolls. If you carry a shield, its armor check penalty applies to your attack rolls.

Special: Natural weapons are considered light weapons.

Curve blade, elven 80 gp 1d8 18–20/×2 7 lbs.
Training sword, 20GP 1D6
Studded leather 25 gp AC+3 Dex+5 AcP–1 15% 30 ft.
Shield, heavy steel 20 gp +2AC AcP–2 15% 15 lbs.

Not really traveling with supplies because he is a social creature. Just keeps the rest of his gold on hand.

LeRose was the odd duck of his family, drawn to art and adventure. At a young age he left home and set out for Magnimar. There he was able to find a culture that embraced art and beauty. His more adventurist streak led him to join the church of Shelyn.

Though he had a natural talent for swordsmanship it did not suit him much. Instead he spent a lot of his time in the local inn. Subtly preaching his gospel through poetry and tales of adventure.

He became well known as a charismatic face for the church in the more seedy areas of town that most "Decent folk" of the church refused to go to.

Though LeRose no longer like to talk about it, he was asked by his church to root out a necromantic cult posing as doctors within the city. He brought in a perpetrator alive and was then asked to execute him. This went against the tenants that he fought for but he caved to the pressure and did it. The next day he left the church.

Now he has set himself to wander. Letting Shelyn guide him, by luck during his day and by dreams during his nights.

I went with Shelyn as my god of choice because I loved the tennants laid out here http://www.pathfindercommunity.net/gods-of-golarion/Shelyn

Paladins of Shelyn

Paladins of Shelyn are peaceable promoters of art and beauty. They see the ugliness in evil, even when cloaked in the form of beauty, and their job is to prevent the weak and foolish from being seduced by false promises.

Their tenets include:

I am peaceful. I come first with a rose. I act to prevent conflict before it blossoms.

I never strike first, unless it is the only way to protect the innocent.

I accept surrender if my opponent can be redeemed—and I never assume that they cannot be. All things that live love beauty, and I will show beauty's answer to them.

I will never destroy a work of art, nor allow one to come to harm unless greater art arises from its loss. I will only sacrifice art if doing so allows me to save a life, for untold beauty can arise from an awakened soul.

I see beauty in others. As a rough stone hides a diamond, a drab face may hide the heart of a saint.

I lead by example, not with my blade. Where my blade passes, a life is cut short, and the world's potential for beauty is lessened.

I live my life as art. I will choose an art and perfect it. When I have mastered it, I will choose another. The works I leave behind make life richer for those who follow.

LeRose is also more socially aware then most paladins. He is not opposed to drinking a bit (Never drunk) and he accepts that some people have their vices and evils but he would rather stand by people and help guide them out then condemn them.

One thing he can not stand and will not put up with is abuse of women, children, and the helpless.

His art is poetry, though I am no good at it so I will be borrowing heavily from RL writers and claiming them for LeRose.

Against undead/evil he will use his elven blade but against normal humans and the misguided he will use the training blade to deliver non-lethal attacks.

LeRose stared back at the elven woman and cracked a wide charming smile.

[/b]"You are as observant as your are lovely. Yes, I hardly use the elven blade, I would rather not take lives. Some may consider this a weakness, perhaps it is, but I feel as though my faith should not be used as a weapon but worn as armor instead."[/b]

He drew out the curved elven blade, feeling its edge with his finger, letting it cut slightly into his finger to show the sharpness.

"A great poet once said:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.

LeRose's smile faded and he became rather serious.

Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Golarion is the less."

He placed the blade back into the scabbard.

"As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind."

LeRose looked deeply and seriously into the elven woman's eyes with just a hint of sadness.

"Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee."

He paused for a moment, coughed and then his charming smile returned.

I've reworked her background some to emphasize her naiveté, as well as to add a more personal connection to the battles going on at the World-wound.

While her background is relatively free from the conflict or problems which usually mark the early lives of heroes and heroines, I feel that the combination of her lofty goals with her naive and optimistic worldview provide a lot of room for character development and RP.

Mechanically she'll be a Two-Weapon Fighter with a dip in Metal Oracle, focusing on dual-wielding along with a side of disarm for Aldori-flavoring. In terms of mythic path, I'd like to go Champion with an emphasis on mobility and the divine spark which rests within her.

Since smithing is a large part of her back-story and motivation for adventuring, she'll be investing in blacksmithing, including taking Master Craftsman and Craft Arms and Armor so she can craft her own weapons. Additionally, she’ll invest heavily in the legendary item mythic powers to eventually convert her crafted blades into an artifact to achieve the goal from her dream.

As she wandered among the crowds of Armasse, she was overcome with joy. This is everything grandfather said it would be! The tournaments, soldiers in polished armor... She swung to the left, taking in the sights, letting the weight of her pack continue to swing her around to complete the circle. When her pack came to a stop prematurely, it was because a soldier in armor had placed his hand upon it.

"What are you doing with all this girl?" he said, hand still on her pack. "Carrying your father's weapons and gear? You should go find him and stop taking up space out here."

Flustered by the sudden disruption of her sight-seeing and the soldier's belligerent tone, she snapped back "These are my armor and weapons, not my father's! I traveled here from Restov..."

Before she could finish the sentence, she was interrupted by laughter from the soldier and his compatriots. Feeling her cheeks flush and the eyes of everyone around on her, she reached up and drew the two blades quickly, dropping into the stance she'd been taught. "I said these are my weapons, is that a problem?"

"Whoa there little lady," the soldier said as his chuckle faded, "If you're so eager for a fight you should put your swords to use in the tournament."

Age: apparently 16
Height: 6'-6"
Weight: 290 lbs
Hair: shaved head, thick jet black lashes,
Eyes: deep purple
Uriel Tiberius is an enormous half-orc who, despite his heritage, is always immaculately groomed and attired. He stands at six and a half feet tall and weighs nearly three hundred pounds in nothing but his small clothes. He has excellent posture and his power is evident when he moves despite at times moving almost like a gangly youth (who happens to weigh a lot). Although he looks very young in appearance there seems to be something more in his deep purple eyes

Uriel wears an enormous suit of armor covered by an oversized deep green shirt and a variety of equipment arrayed in an orderly manner: bandolier, light crossbow, mace, rope, etc., with a backpack perfectly arranged on his back so as to not be unbalanced, and his dark green leather breeches tucked into his boots.

However, Uriel is most fierce when he forms his mind blade, an enormous slender blade apparently made of crimson energy.

Uriel Tiberius is an enigma trying to discover himself. He can remember nothing of his life prior to a few short weeks ago when he found himself in Hajoth Hakados, a settlement he learned to be a Numerian bordertown where crusaders passed through on their way to Mendev and the World Wound. However, although he did not have memories of his own life prior to finding himself there, he had memories of many other lives.
Uriel remembered as a human watching first-hand the Isle of Kortos being from the bottom of the Inner Sea. He remembered seeing the monuments of Thassilon being built and he remembered running across the northern plains as a great fire came from the sky. And then, even memories of being among the stars. From those memories he chose a name for himself, Uriel Tiberius.

But, those human memories were vague and fleeting. More strongly, he remembered running wild across the plains as a full orc, not a half-breed and his blood chilled as he thought of the murdering he would do along with worse things still. There were also memories of being a half-breed mixed in with these.

But, most strongly were the memories he held that he knew to be much more recent in time. Memories of fighting the demons. Visions of being evacuated as a child from the great war against the demons while his parents fought to ensure his escape. He vaguely knew that what was being done there made his memories of committing atrocities as an orc pale in comparison. When he saw the crusaders in Hajoth Hakados, he knew he must question them. They were followers of Iomedae and quickly set about questioning him regarding his armor and trying to convince him to accompany them to Kenabres. They said warriors like him were always needed there. Uriel did not have much desire to encounter demons, but the opportunity to follow a trail of the memories he held in his head was too great to pass and he joined them.

As he traveled with them, he began to consciously focus and draw more from those memories. This was difficult as he would often lose himself in a train of thought and begin speaking as if he was one of these ancient people he had in his head. He began thinking of himself as a crusader in order to focus the memories and decided that whoever or whatever he happened to be was less important than stopping the darkness at work in the World Wound.

The reality of Uriel's origins...
Unbeknownst to him, Uriel was not born but was rather grown in a vat of genetic material in a great metal mountain in Numeria. In a mad scheme that had propagated itself repeatedly for thousands of years, the device had sent collectors to gather genetic material to mix with its own store. However, this time something different had happened. Somewhere in that supply of collected material was something more, perhaps a tiny fragment of a seed of divine power embedded in genetic material or a remnant of the will of a mighty psion. This fragment of genetic material resisted the device's attempts to install a fabricated personality. It collected and pulled the memories from the surrounding genetic material to form its own personality and override the one constructed for it. When ready, it fled the genetic factory. And thus, Uriel Tiberius found himself in Hajoth Hakados.

Note: At this point Uriel does not even know he s capable of making a mndblade although it will instinctively come to him

1. I plan for Uriel to remain soulknife the entire way and to pick the champion path although marshall is not out of the question if no one else takes it and we need one. If it is decided he needs to change to a different class, that can be done, most likely Ranger or Fighter.
2. Take heavy armor proficiency and stack his AC that way as Uriel has no dex mod.
3. As soulknife possibly take psionic weapon and then aligned weapon feats.
4. Take "blade skills" with a progression something like... 2 two hand throw, 4 powerful strike, 6 furious charge, 8 Absorbing blade, etc.
5. Choose path abilities like Clean Blade, Crusader, Punishing Blow, Divine Source (universal), perhaps Legendary Item (for armor), Penetrating Damage, Titan's Rage (maybe).
As a player, I am fond of the idea of a half-orc climbing the ascension ladder with a following of other half-orcs... Divine Source and Crusader actually allows for that.

Note: Any soulknife choice along the way can easily be traded for others if you, DM DragonSon do not approve.

Uriel put on his most friendly smile and waved to the young priestess at the booth. She appeared a bit worried for a moment but he quickly overcame the worry by speaking.

Good day, mam. he started figuring the young girl may be confused by someone she assumed would be trying to get in her trousers addressing her as he would a spinster. He was correct and capitalized upon the confusion. I see that you are a priestess of the butterfly lady. Would you by chance have her written word that I may see?

Suddenly happy that he was looking to learn more of her goddess and not split her like a peach, she quickly pulled out one of several copies Desnan texts she had, the cheap copy. A short while later and Uriel was walking away with the the third text he had managed to obtain, ones from Sarenrae and Iomedae as well as Desna. He was still struggling to find himself and was searching the texts for answers.

*******

The crusader in front of Uriel spoke up in a stern voice, You, tusk face, speak up. Who are you and what are your plans here in Kenabres. Your kind traffics too much with the demon mother

Inwardly, Uriel winced as he began to speak without thinking. I am Uriel Tiberius or, if you prefer, Uri, he stated with a warm laugh. He often so responded and it was sometimes difficult to know what memories would be speaking for him and sometimes difficult to later remember what they had said. I was once told that I should not try to live in my forefathers' footsteps but rather choose the best my forefathers had to offer and use it as a building block to make something new, better, and lasting. As Uriel remembered it, he was not told this but gave it as part of a speech to a collection of scholars and bureaucrats and politicians. He continued, My bloodline is filled with that of great scholars and great warriors throughout. Uriel could see the skeptical faces of those listening but was powerless to stop speaking. My line is filled with both heroes and villains, but I choose how to fulfill my destiny. In another time or place, I might use those gifts of brawn and intellect from my forefathers to build a nation or a school but I am faced with a different problem. Now, Uriel felt he was speaking for himself. If this threat of demons we are faced with is not defeated there may be nothing left to build upon or to fight for. I choose to do what I can and to help others both see what needs to be done and do so.

He quickly quieted, not being sure if he had spoken inappropriately and fearing that a few minutes later he would forget what he had said.

With that, he began looking for faces in the crowd that may be friendly. Uriel looked first for more half-orcs as he felt he may more easily slide in among such. Barring that, he figured he might try to look for some warriors of Iomedae. He checked his mace and hoped he would not need to use it. Something itched in the back of his head, as if he should be reaching for something other than the mace but he could not figure out what, unable to realize he had capabilities he did not know.
******************