Here's crunch for my submission, Archibald Burrows, dimwitted halfling detective turned adventurer. Decided to start him out with a level of Inspired Blade Swashbuckler for survivability. Not quite sure on his overall build, but I'm thinking another level of Swashbuckler, then the rest Investigator and eventually Halfling Opportunist.
I'll add personality and other fluff stuffs later after dinner, but basically Arch is the inept and curious halfling who has a habit of getting into trouble and causing more trouble than you'd expect him to.
A dash of Mr. Bean, some Naked Gun, comedic relief type.
I'm thinking I might make a Ninja, a strangely caucasian master of the Southern Cross school of fighting. Clearly, his Grandfather was killed by a rival school. This happened right in front of him, and he couldn't stop it because he was too hung over to react in time.
Lessee... Painful vengeance oath, Caucasian-ninja-with-noble-heart, rival school. Hmm...
I know!
His family: The Blackheart family are a powerful force in Althamar, being the head of the Blackheart bank. This rich and shadowy force is like most renaissance banks - Involved in everything from exploration expeditions to business start-ups. Like Shylock in the Merchant of Venice, they will get their pound of flesh if their investment doesn't get paid off. Being a family of ninjas has certainly not hurt their ability to collect on debts.
So yeah! Rich boy ninja with a noble heart and a painful sense of duty to his misunderstood, powerful ninja family.
What do you think? Should I flesh that out?
Perfectly doable. Being from Althamar is of course preferred for the game, but I feel I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the "Asian Setting Stereotype Country" to the south.
Hai Dow Shen is Japan and China, rolled in with some pirates. A large island chain, it has everything from pagodas to rice fields, to kitsune, to pirates. Imagine Tortuga as a country. Kind of had to have the obligatory Asian nation somewhere, in a setting like this.
I DO like the tie-in to the banking system. That's pretty good.
Archibald having been a detective makes me hope even more that we're both accepted, since the inept detective / thief duo has such potential.
Here's the fluff!
Personality
To most, Archibald Burrows seems to be a dim witted, oblivious and clumsy fool (not quite wrong), but beneath Archibald's childlike obliviousness and dim witted demeanor is a brilliant mind, constantly turning and producing ideas. He is very caring and kind towards others, always seeing the good in even the most despicable of men.
Arch is a man of many quirks and curiosities with a bad habit of finding trouble, yet returning relatively unscathed. He loves cocktails and cute baby animals and hates the idea of killing any one. When dealing with him, many people tend to ask "is this guy ******* serious?"
History
Archibald Burrows was born to a well-off halfling family. The Burrows were a trusted bunch, often landing jobs as bankers, professors, doctors, and lawyers. To young Archibald, money meant very little. No matter how much he spent, at the end of the day, he could always ask for more.
Reality smacked him hard across the face when he entered adulthood. Seeing no change in his childish behavior, his family cut him off and demanded that he take up a trade.
Unsure of what to do with himself, Burrows tried to enter the workforce. Hard labor made his hands bleed, menial work made him dizzy, and working on farms left him too confused ("Why would anyone want to eat a cow pie?"). He would've given up had he not had an accidental (and quite literal) run-in with Sir Hannibal Goldwrench, the greatest known detective in all of Althamar.
While working as a server (a job he hated mostly because trying the guests food was largely frowned upon), Arch managed to spill a whole bowl of split pea and carrot soup all over Sir Goldwrench's valuable notebook. He didn't get why Sir Goldwrench was so upset. He offered to buy him a new one, but his offer was turned down. Goldwrench kept going on and on about how years of work was ruined because of Archibald's clumsiness. Burrows apologized and cleaned off the detective's book the best he could. He cleaned between the pages, skimming through and reading whatever pages were soup-free. Once done, he handed the soiled notebook back to Sir Hannibal Goldwrench with his childlike smile. He chuckled to the man "Hey, that was a great read but it's clear that the murder was committed by Farmer Hawthorne given the evidences found in the barn. Maybe you should reconsider him as a, uh, main suspect or somethin'!" Sir Goldwrench let out a deep gasp, flipped through the pages, and leapt out of his seat.
"You're a genius! You're a gods-damned idiot, but you're a bloody genius of an idiot!"
Returning home for the first time since leaving (total time of a week), he declared his new profession to his family and started work on his first case: who's been stealing from the Burrows family fund?
(It was a quick and easy case. Second Cousin Langry Burrows. Nobody liked him, and he wasn't even a real Burrows anyway)
Now on his third year as a detective, Archibald is striking out into the world, ready to solve any problems that come his way! Some call it traveling, others adventuring. To Arch, it's livin' the life!
@Faulkner
Yes! Especially so now that the two come from very different backgrounds.
Will (hopefully) get character statted up, &c., tonight.
has anyone submitted a perverted, panty stealing monk with a heart of gold yet? if not, I'll be putting one in soon
I submit Ferasiel
Born in the Eastern forests to a middle-class Elven family of no particular note and enrolled as a 2nd year student at Althamar's warmage academy, Ferasiel is presently on sabbatical. While rooting around in the stacks in the academy library, he discovered an obviously long forgotten manuscript that, despite its condition, offered several tantalising hints regarding the location of Gasthyaka's Scroll of the Bloodless Cut, a legendary manual of swordsmanship. Taking his weapons, his spellbook and what remained of his meagre stipend with him, he travelled further into Althamar in search of it.
He is a diligent student, tending towards obsessiveness in his pursuit of the twin disciplines of swordplay and magery; he often has to restrain himself from lecturing anybody who converses with him on either of his pet subjects and concealing his lack of interest in anything that does not at least touch on them, but is not completely anti-social. Having lived a good deal longer than most of his human fellow pupils, he is a good deal more mature than his very youthful appearance might suggest.
He has light brown hair, dark blue eyes and slightly tanned skin. He is normally neatly groomed and tends to dress conservatively, generally in blues and greys. He does not use bad language unless under severe stress, in which case he lapses into Elven and is generally rather ashamed of himself for his lack of discipline.
not done yet, but if i have a day or two, i can get the rest of the crunch up. Backstory isn't done, but one thing I'd like to work into Absalom's background is that he doesn't actually know that he can do magic. Things sometimes just happen...like when the first time he met his musical hero, the great singer, William Nels-Son
"I swear, I just wanted to look at your lute! I don't know why it caught on fire!" Absalom screamed in protest, as he was thrown from the tavern.
Well, taking what Roycilo thought would be cool, I decided to blend the two characters together, so I'll be using the Summoner this time.
I do have a few questions though, Roycilo. First, should I use the standard Summoner, or the Unchained Summoner?
Second (a super fluffy question regarding character flavor), would you be willing to let me get some scaling on the Succubus that is supposed to be my character's Eidolon? The Succubus stat block is roughly around the Level 7-8 mark, and, though its stat block is pretty strong, I have found a way to make a template that would allow the Succubus to more or less reach its stat block power level when our characters reach Level 10. There will be some fluffy changes representing the bond between the Summoner and the Succubus, but it all balances out.
I've spoiler tagged my potential template below, along with some explanation and comparisons.
Normal Biped Eidolon Ability Scores: Str 16, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 11
Normal Succubus (CR 7; 8 Hit Dice) Ability Scores: Str 13, Dex 17, Con 20, Int 18, Wis 14, Cha 27
Proposed Template
The Succubus Eidolon unlocks more of her species' power as her bond with the Summoner grows, up to the point where she more or less matches her stat block's power at Level 10. This growth is as follows, with the bonuses applying at Levels 2, 4, 6, and 8.
Bonuses: Str +0, Dex +0, Con +1, Int +2, Wis +1, Cha +4
Level 10 Succubus Eidolon: Str 16, Dex 12, Con 17, Int 15, Wis 14, Cha 27
After spending the 6 Evolution Points I plan to spend, and applying the Level 5 and Level 10 Ability Score increases, the Ability Scores are...
Level 10 Succubus Eidolon: Str 16, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 20, Wis 14, Cha 27
Normal Succubus Stat Block: Str 13, Dex 17, Con 20, Int 18, Wis 14, Cha 27
Pretty close once the differences are compared.
Ability Score Differences (Eidolon vs. Normal): Str +3, Dex -3, Con -2, Int +2, Wis 0, Cha 0
Total Sum of Differences: 0
So at Level 10, the Succubus will be close to her species' normal stat block, but will have some statistical differences representing her Summoner's focus on Magic over Might. Since the normal Succubus is a Level 7-8 Demon, I feel it is somewhat fair to lose most of her specials and wait 3 additional Levels to match the power level of a normal Succubus. If you want though, perhaps we can look at retooling some of the Succubus specials to be player friendly.
I understand this is quite a big thing to request, so feel free to veto it, but it would help stay super true to the concept, since she is a Demon playing on the fantasy Fanservice tropes while also serving as the foil to the Summoner. It's otherwise mostly impossible to truly mimic a Succubi with the Eidolon rules otherwise.
I may also request a Large sized Gauntlet to represent the Demonic Claw that replaces the Summoner's left hand when the Succubus' influence afflicts him too much. Yes, it's unwieldy and entirely inefficient, but I want to keep with flavor, and many a demonic power based fantasy trope plays on that one weapon surging with demonic power that affects the body in some way, usually detrimental, no matter how cool it is. Perhaps it can be a Move or Standard Action to trigger?
Sorry for requesting these big things, but character flavor means a lot to me, especially when a trope heavy vanilla old school campaign harks back to when that was prevalent. If they cannot be done, I'm cool with that. I'll then build him as a normal character without these requested things in that circumstance.
I'm cool with any choice though. Thanks again!
Absalom is complete, i believe. Fluff and background will be generated in the next couple of days.
Well, first off, either Summoner is fine. I prefer the Unchained version, unless you have to use the other version for an archetype.
For your Succubus, when you said:
Ability Score Differences (Eidolon vs. Normal): Str +3, Dex -3, Con -2, Int +2, Wis 0, Cha 0
Is this the final difference from the standard Eidolon to the end result of your proposed template? If that is the total diffence, then it is fine. The +3 Str -3 Dex isn't game breaking, and with the -2 Con, it is even less so.
As for the gauntlet, an item that is purely for flavor is fine. If you are planning on actually using it for combat, that is another thing. Then we will want to look at maybe a feat or custom magic item to gain an evolution from your eidolon. It will probably be a little costly, considering that it is a 10th level Summoner ability; the Aspect class feature.
Just kinda posting to note that I am still around and I should have my character crunch done tomorrow or Friday at the latest.
Here's my aforementioned monk. He still needs to be fluffed but we'll deal with that before the weekend is over.
I appreciate all the submissions! We still have some time, so no need to rush.
That said, I do appreciate a polished submission. It certainly helps your chances.
I will be posting an optional roleplaying scene here in the recruitment thread soon. It is entirely optional, so if you are far to busy to post in it, that is ok! It's just a way for me to see where people's PbP skills are at, and I also find a few people always end up fleshing their character out in ways they didn't expect. I would much rather give a good submission a chance than someone who has a half-hearted submission, and just happens to post in the recruitment RP.
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30th of Erastus, Midday:
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You are sitting in the town square in Dromston. the mayor of the city has officially announced the start of Founder's Week, a week-long celebration not found anywhere else in the country. Everyone realizes it is just an excuse to get more tourists and off-duty soldiers to spend their money here, but the festival is always so entertaining no one seems to mind.
There are booths all up and down both sides of the street. Vendors are hawking everything from food, to arms, to clothing; even the occasional magic item. Crowds are milling about, and people from all over are excitedly running to and fro.
You spot Joram, the retired paladin and part-time deputy to the sherriff of Dromston, watching the children run with a grandfatherly look upon his face. He's a human man, pushing 60, with stark-white hair. He's wearing his ceremonial armor, but is carrying live steel.
Across the way is the booth for most celebrated event this festival, a traveling circus that timed their passing through to the carnival. They are set up in a series of large pavilion tents, in an empty lot adjacent to the Hare's Shanty.
The Hare's Shanty is a dive bar frequented by men of ill-repute, and women of even iller intent. It's decidedly the worst drinking establishment in the city, but has been around longer than the rest. Since it is a piece of local history, it tends to get a pass from the constabulary. It has occupied the same building on the main drag for six generations.
And, lastly, walking up the road is the mayor's son, Nathern Donsden, the heir to the Donsden trade empire. He is dressed, as always, in an outfit that probably cost over 50 gold pieces. While Nathern is something of a spoiled rich kid, he isn't a terrible individual. In a blatant display of wealth, he has hired three men to walk behind him handout out sweets to children, and occasionally tossing copper pieces into crowds.
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With fair skin bordering on albinism and eyes with a pinkish cast, Meg stands out as an exotic creature of the night. She walks with a natural grace and seems somewhat timid and shy. She is adorned with fetishes and tokens, including complex braids and weaves in her hair that appear to be feathers and claws of exotic animals. The silver owl that seems to linger near Meg reinforces the appearance that she is a mystical creature of the night. A set of matching charm bracelets adorn both wrists, a set of flowers each with a name and a date. Those familiar with the Flower Network easily recognize it as a badge of honor, symbolizing the successful rescue of many slaves.
The dark elf left the bar, sniffing at what appeared to be scents her delicate nose did not appreciate. Her light sensitive eyes blinked repeatedly as she appeared uncomfortable in the bright sun.
Something about the elderly man gazing at the children caused her to wince involuntarily. I remember when all the young children came to me for skinned knees and hurt pets. Before the blight.
Almost reflexively Meg moves over to stand beside the elderly man. At first she is content to bask in the silence and the scene of the playing children--attempting to stand in what little shadow the old man casts in the middle of the day. She speaks after some reflection: "The innocence of children. A precious gift, a precious trust, but a much fragile thing."
Pain is evident on the elderly and lined elven face.
With a large grin on his face, Absalom jumps...or awkwardly climbs...onto a stool at the bar. "A mug of your finest ale," he chimes to Daven. Standing on the stool, Absalom leans onto the bar and looks around the room...Dromston on Founder's Week he thought. Life couldn't get any more exciting than this! "Have you been to the circus yet,?" Absalom asks Daven. "Do you know if they have puppet shows?"
A paladin of Abadar, Joram wasn't the type to run someone like Meg out of town. Rather, he was the type to treat everyone as they came; saving judgement for those who'd earned it.
"Ay, children are the most fleeting of beauties. Frail, and gone in an instant. But if you can nurture them, they can go on to bring more light into the world." He paused for a moment, watching the children play. "I'm sure there is a butterfly analogy in there somewhere; I just can't place it for the life of me."
Joram turned to Meg, and smiled. He was one of the few who smiled at everyone.
"Are you enjoying th' festival, young lady?
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With a large grin on his face, Absalom jumps...or awkwardly climbs...onto a stool at the bar. "A mug of your finest ale," he chimes to Daven.
Sigh...Coming right up Daven says as he begins pouring the ale Don't see many gnomes around here, what brings you around here?
Standing on the stool, Absalom leans onto the bar and looks around the room...Dromston on Founder's Week he thought. Life couldn't get any more exciting than this! "Have you been to the circus yet,?" Absalom asks Daven.
I have been to the circus...it's about the only excitement left in this town Daven says handing over the mug I hope you like it, I made it myself
"Do you know if they have puppet shows?"
They do, in fact I moonlight there once in a while to make some extra coin
Listening to the conversations going on inside the bar, it was the mention of Gnomes that drew Norme's attention away from the book on Planes he was reading. Lifting his eyes, he glanced over to observe the Gnome and Human carrying on a discussion. Closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed and addressed his companion whom was sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around him in a faux display of decidedly intimate affection.
"Jezebeth, please, there isn't a need for this right now. We have our safe words you know."
His companion giggled lightly at his request. She was dressed identically to him, both of them wearing Padded and Armored Magician Robes, creating the appearance of two Wizards who were traveling companions; one Human and one Tiefling (though she was in truth far more). They both even had matching oversized hats and open fingered gloves! She cooed a reply as she ran her claw down his side, the padding preventing the sharp fingernails from actually scratching him.
"Aww, but I love my little savior who bravely rescued me from that evil Wizard~"
The tone and inflections were clearly designed to get under his skin, though he managed to brush it aside magnificently. He stood up and put the book back in his Backpack, one that appeared to be expertly made. She relinquished her grasp as he did so.
"I'm not little! I only saved you so I could later bani-err... Escort you home! I didn't ask for this thing we have right now... Anyways, enough of this idling. Keep an eye out for any of them, and remember the safe words. I'm going to see if I can get us some information out of that bartender. The Gnome may also have some interesting things to say."
Jezebeth seemed to pout a bit in an entirely playful way.
Oh, boo. You're no fun, shortstack. If only I still had my normal powers..."
"I don't like your powers infecting me either, but stuff happens. Let's just get some information on the local festival. A circus performance sounds low-key enough to let us get some heat off if anyone starts suspecting anything. You do basically shine like a Torch to any Paladin or Cleric in the area after all, and I hate having to try and talk us out of those situations."
Receiving no further mischief from Jezebeth, Norme went over with her in tow to interject himself into the conversation, addressing first the bartender, Daven.
"Pardon me, I overheard something about puppet shows and circuses. I'm afraid I don't know too much about this local festival, so perhaps you could clue me and my companion in with some information about it? You two seem knowledgeable and friendly. My name is Norme, and this is my friend, Jezebeth."
Norme was 5'2" tall, and looked quite young with his freckles and boyish look, despite his actual age. His reddish-orange hair and fair skin completed the look.
"Hmmhmmhmm, do start with the puppet shows first, please. Norme has one I enjoy playing with, and I'm sure your puppet would be just as fun. A double feature could be quite entertaining as well. Perhaps we could also get a couple of drinks while you're at it? That ale should be quite the treat if a man like you made it."
Flirting aside, Norme's companion fit the definition of a perfect woman that stands 5'8", with an impressive figure and absolutely top notch looks and allure. The only oddities with her were markings of a Tiefling, notably the horns, tail, hooves, vestigial wings, long and sharp nails, and red skin. Her hair was also a fiery blonde with orange highlights streaking through it, though most of it was hidden by the hat as well, given she was dressed just like Norme was. Her true nature was hidden incredibly well to anything short of a Detect Evil effect of some kind.
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A look of surprise is followed by a slow smile, starting in the middle of the mouth and spreading to the corners.
"Young lady you say. I am now, I am now...." Meg's words trail off after she answers and continues to watch the children. When she turns to look at the paladin she carefully looks at his holy symbol.
"Religion is something I never had time for. But then, as a young lady, I have many years ahead of me." Meg strokes the owl that has landed under her hood and has taken shelter from the light to the left of her neck.
I should get out more. This is fun. And I almost blushed...almost.
Midday, 30th of Erastus.
"Founder's Day in Dromston"
Seated under a beautiful oak tree with great shade, enjoying a marvelous apricot jam pastry. Hundreds of people huddling about, jumping from hawker to hawker, inspecting toys, dishes, weapons, knickers, and various tools. Children frolicking freely while a creepy old guy stares them down. He seems to be an Important Someone. Maybe their grandfather. Or a knight. Maybe both.
Wafting through the air, mixed in with the smells of food, drink and exotic perfumes, the stink of circus animal dung. Great timing, dear Lady, great timing! Perhaps you and your marauding menagerie of merry men have found sanctuary within these congested streets, perhaps you could be sneaking your way into the circus. Whatever the case, wherever you are, I will find you, Lady Ezlin, I will find you.
"That's enough writing for now, ol' Arch! Time to enjoy this party before trouble finds me again."
The cherub-faced halfling shuts his weathered leather notebook and returns it to his knapsack before lifting himself up off the ground. After dusting the dirt off of his bottom, Archibald then cleans the pastry crumbs off of his yellow ascot, haphazardly smearing the pastry's sweet apricot jam onto his shirt.
"Oh Arch, now you've done it. This is the third shirt this week!"
He takes a quick look-about to make sure no one's watching, and then proceeds to lick off as much of the apricot jam as he could.
For Archibald Burrows, Detective At Large, these things just sort of happen.
"Alright, that's about better. Let's get us a bit of a drink, shall we?"
He'd spent the last few nights traveling in pursuit of a gang of thieves lead by the elusive Lady Ezlin. To Archibald, Ezlin was a personal matter, one he couldn't wait to share with everyone.
With a wide swing of the Shanty's door, the plump and pudgy detective saunters up to the bar and tosses his rapier up onto the counter. He proceeds to climb his barstool, only to crash down and tumble to the floor. Oh now you've done it...
"I-I'm alright! No need to worry, I've got this, yeah."
A second attempt proves fruitful and he quickly calls over the bartender.
"Ex-excuse me, Sir Bar Tender! I'd like a beverage! Have you anything that pairs well with an apricot jam pastry?" Noticing that he rudely interrupted the bartender from his previous conversation, he looks over at the gnome and apologizes "I'm sorry sir, have a round on me."
He takes a deep gulp of his beverage, and introduces himself to the bartender rather briskly, not giving him much time to respond. It was a bad habit of his, especially when something was weighing him down.
"Hallo, m'name's Archibald Burrows. I'm here on a bit of work, but I can't divulge much seeing as I'm a detective and detectives have to be good with keeping secrets and though my current work isn't much of a secret, it is a private matter, and as my mother and father always say 'private matters have no place in public forums', and seeing as this is a public forum, it's best I keep it to myself." a deep gasp for air "But the nature of my work requires that I gather information and in order to gather information, sometimes it is required that I talk to others who may or may not have witnessed an event or caught wind of a fleeing suspect, so that private matter puts me in a quandary. Do I tell you about that evil thieving Lady Ezlin, who I've been pursuing for the last three weeks, in hopes that you've maybe seen her or heard of her, or do I keep it to myself and drink this wonderful beverage in absolute silence while I stew in anger? Oh how I wish it weren't personal! I really do, but Mr. Man, that evil woman, she kissed me! She stole from me, and then she kissed me, without my consent at that! How dare she! No matter how pretty her smile is, or how gorgeous her eyes are, or how downright enchanting the lilting manner of her voice--I demand justice, damnit!" He clears his glass and looks over at the sultry devil spawn who's made her way to the bar. He quickly turns back to the bartender before she looks at him. "So what's your name, pal?"
Absalom grabbed the mug in both hands. Before he took a drink, he cocked his head to the side. "I really don't know how I got here," he says. I got on a wagon, and when they found me, they threw me off. And I got here!"[/b] Grinning, he leaned back and took a huge swig. "It's perfect," he gasps. Recovering from the drink, he set mug back down.
"They do, in fact I moonlight there once in a while to make some extra coin"
"Really? Are you Punch? Judy? Or are you the crocodile?" Absalom's eyes lit up with excitement. When Norme and Jezebeth came over, Absalom took a look at them, a little confused at why they were dressed the same. Then it dawned on him, and he leaned over to talk to Norme, whispering "Hey buddy, are you sure you should be bringing your sister in here?"
Male human summoner (unchained) 1
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +2
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Defense
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AC 12, touch 11, flat-footed 11 (+1 armor, +1 Dex)
hp 8 (1d8)
Fort +0, Ref +1, Will +4
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee fiendish claw (cestus) -3 (1d6-1/19-20)
Summoner (Unchained) Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +5)
. . 7/day・summon monster I
Summoner (Unchained) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +5)
. . 1st (2/day)・glue seal, grease
. . 0 (at will)・arcane mark, detect magic, light, read magic
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Statistics
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Str 8, Dex 12, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 18
Base Atk +0; CMB -1; CMD 10
Feats Extra Evolution, Spell Focus (conjuration)
Traits destined diplomat, greater link
Skills Appraise +4, Diplomacy +4 (+6 vs. outsiders), Knowledge (arcana) +7, Knowledge (local) +7, Knowledge (nobility) +7, Knowledge (planes) +7, Knowledge (religion) +7, Linguistics +7, Lore (Succubus) +7, Spellcraft +7, Use Magic Device +8
Languages Abyssal, Common, Dwarven, Elven, Halfling
SQ eidolon (unchained), life link
Other Gear magician's armored garb (padded armor), fiendish claw (cestus), bedroll, belt pouch, blanket, canteen, holy text (nethys), journal, masterwork backpack, travelling spellbook, 2 sp
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Special Abilities
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Destined Diplomat Norme's unusually close tie to Jezebeth, whom is a Succubus that has become his Eidolon, resonates among other outsiders, granting him a +2 trait bonus to Diplomacy concerning them. His developed skill with words as a result makes Diplomacy a class skill for him.
Greater Link Norme's powerful tie to Jezebeth strengthens their bond. Jezebeth's current and maximum hit point totals are not reduced by 50% until she is separated from Norme by 110 feet or more. Her current and maximum hit point totals are not reduced by 75% until she is separated from Norme by 1,100 feet or more.
Life Link (Su) The powerful tie between Norme and Jezebeth allows him to receive any wounding that would be great enough to send Jezebeth back to her home plane. However, she is weakened immensely if she travels too far away from him.
Spell Focus (Conjuration) Norme's magical abilities were strong, but manifested in a peculiar and highly specialized way. His Conjuration spells have +1 to their save DC as a result.
Summon Monster I (7/day) (Sp) Norme can overload his own magical power to use a far stronger version of the classic Summon Monster spell. However, he cannot use it in this way while Jezebeth is present with him.
Female biped eidolon
CE Medium outsider (chaotic, demon, evil, extraplanar)
Init +1; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 14 (+1 armor, +1 Dex, +3 natural)
hp 11 (1d10+1)
Fort +3, Ref +1, Will +2; +4 bonus vs. poison
Resist electricity 5, fire 5
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee 2 claws +4 (1d6+3)
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 11
Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 15
Feats Cosmopolitan
Skills Bluff +4, Disguise +4, Knowledge (nobility) +2, Perception +4
Languages Abyssal, Celestial, Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Halfling
SQ demon save bonus (+4 bonus vs. poison)
Other Gear scholar's outfit, belt pouch, 2 sp
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Special Abilities
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Darkvision (60 feet) Like most Succubi, Jezebeth can see perfectly (though in black and white) while in the dark.
Demon Save Bonus While her species is normally immune to the effects of poisons, the power split that occurred when Jezebeth was bound to Norme robbed her of that immunity. She still retained a small resistance however, granting her a +4 to save against poisons.
Energy Resistance, Electricity (5) While her species is normally immune to the effects of electricity, the power split that occurred when Jezebeth was bound to Norme robbed her of that immunity. She still retained a small resistance however, granting her some manner of resistance to such effects.
Energy Resistance, Fire (5) While her species is normally immune to the effects of fire, the power split that occurred when Jezebeth was bound to Norme robbed her of that immunity. She still retained a small resistance however, granting her some manner of resistance to such effects.
A young woman walks from stall to stall, looking idly over all the displays the carts have put out. Her dark hair is twisted up into a loose bun; the large pin holding it up looks for all the world like an expended magical wand. A patchwork satchel of cotton and linen bounces against her hip, its stitches straining under the stress of the several books stuffed inside of it.
She stops at one of the stalls and picks up a ball of fine silk yarn, looking over it admiringly and asking the stall keeper a question. When he answers, her face falls, and she sets it back on the shelf. As she turns to leave, her satchel bumps into the cart, and the yarn she had been eyeing rolls onto the cobblestones. Oh, I'm sorry! she exclaims, bending over to pick it up.
Suddenly, a tortoiseshell cat darts out from behind another cart, rushing straight for the ball of yarn and batting at the loose end fiercely. No, Hera, stop that! You'll ruin it! Her cries do no good, however; the cat continues its fierce onslaught, and the trailing end of the yarn begins to shred further and further. Finally, she manages to haul the cat into her arms, though not without a few battle scars, and lifts it up to look eye-to-eye with her. You know better!
The feline merely purrs with haughty indifference.
Embarrassed, the girl turns back to the stall keeper. I can, ah...I can pay for that. She reaches for a pouch at her belt and turns it out, letting a hodgepodge of coins clatter onto the wood counter. She counts out a pile and pushes it toward the stall keeper; the pile she sweeps back into her pouch seems the smaller of the two heaps. Sorry - sorry, she stammers, stuffing the ball into her bag and backing away, cat still in the crook of her elbow.
As she leaves, you can swear she's still talking, though no one is around. Oh, I know it looked prey-like. But you know full well what the difference is. The cat follows behind, the tip of her tail darting back and forth with curiosity, as the girl walks down the street, looking at the sign for the Hare's Shanty.
Well, if someone hadn't made her mama spend a small fortune for a ball of yarn...you're right though, it is quite nice...oh, don't give me that. You weren't just trying to make sure I got something that would make me happy; you just can't keep your paws off what's not yours. She sighs and walks toward the Shanty's door. Well, now it's the only place I can afford lunch. You're just going to have to put up with the smell.
She walks timidly into the crowded common room, the cat purring at her heels, and approaches the bar. A bowl of stew, please, and a glass of ale, she half-whispers, looking self-consciously at the crowd. Shyly, she raises her hand to her arm. Purple, she mutters, and suddenly the long robe she wears changes from a drab black to a vivid violet with a brief glow where her hand rested. She sits in a corner and pulls out the yarn and needles from her patchwork bag, casting stitches on while she watches the hubbub of the common room.
The curtained cart was hot and stuffy; the bustle outside called to her. But Alleria knew her place was inside, waiting for the next customer to step inside and cross her palm with a coin to hear her mumble into a crystal ball. It felt cheap. But it was a living - and sometimes, the spirits inside her even decided some people were nice enough to tell the truth to.
But the crowds sounded so fun! With a huff, she peered into the globe of glass in front of her. At first, she saw nothing but the inclusions in the glass - after all, her mother wasn't going to pay for high-quality crystal when the cheap stuff fooled people just as well. Not for the first time, she cursed the mysterious stranger that had stuck around just long enough to get Alleria on her mother before disappearing to who-knew-where. Well, Alleria knew, but no one else did.
But as she continued to gaze, the flecks of minerals began to dance and take on new life. Indistinct forms began to bustle about the glass, and soon she recognized her own cart. The shadows of people flitted past, each hour taking only an instant - and none stopped to peek inside. Not even her shrewish mother peeked into the curtains.
No one will miss me, then. With a small smile, Alleria donned the shabby robe she keeps in order to hide her from her mother's prying eyes during her forays. As the rough linen slid over her skin, the ends of her belt seemed to somehow tie themselves, and Alleria grinned. Thanks, she whispers to no one in particular, and sneaks through the cheap brocade curtains, melting into the crowd.
Except she still doesn't quite blend in. Wherever she walks, the dust sent up by her feet whirls into undulating spirals surrounding her. Hanging pots clank and birds suddenly squawk in surprise as she wanders through the narrow paths between vendors. Her eyes dance to sights no one else sees, and as she walks down the street, she seems half in this world and half in another.
A tavern, hmm? Mother never lets me drink...she's afraid it'll tamper with my Sight... Suddenly she laughs as if at a joke, though no one speaks to her. That's what I thought. It's time you had some fun. She enters the tavern, and the doors open themselves for her, the leftover glasses on an empty table falling to the floor in her wake.
Wine - a good one. Just leave the bottle, she tells the barkeeper, and her voice has an airy, echoey quality to it, as if other voices join faintly with hers. Her deep hood almost completely conceals her features, but the faint glow in her eyes is hard to miss. Collecting the bottle and wineglass the barkeeper offers, she sits at an empty table. Suddenly she speaks. Alleria Hawkins, came here with the circus, of course you can sit. Wait - you haven't asked yet, have you? Cause and effect is funny, isn't it?
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"Pardon me, I overheard something about puppet shows and circuses. I'm afraid I don't know too much about this local festival, so perhaps you could clue me and my companion in with some information about it? You two seem knowledgeable and friendly. My name is Norme, and this is my friend, Jezebeth."
Glancing over from his conversation with the friendly gnome Daven acknowledges the two newcomers Good to meet you both, the name is Daven, yes the circus comes to town twice a year about the only excitement we get around here. Nothing really special about it your basic animal tricks that any druid worth his salt could do
J: "Hmmhmmhmm, do start with the puppet shows first, please. Norme has one I enjoy playing with, and I'm sure your puppet would be just as fun. A double feature could be quite entertaining as well. Perhaps we could also get a couple of drinks while you're at it? That ale should be quite the treat if a man like you made it."
Uh err..Daven moves over and pours a couple of ales quickly clearly blushing while continuing his conversation with the two newcomers. It's a pretty standard show, you know maiden is trapped in a tower by an evil wizard when along comes a knight in shining armor to the rescue her
"Ex-excuse me, Sir Bar Tender! I'd like a beverage! Have you anything that pairs well with an apricot jam pastry?" Noticing that he rudely interrupted the bartender from his previous conversation, he looks over at the gnome and apologizes "I'm sorry sir, have a round on me."
Daven again moves to get the halfling a drink. Hmmm....Apricot jam pastry, I would recommend the gurwurtztriminer a fine desert wine if I do say so myself
He takes a deep gulp of his beverage, and introduces himself to the bartender rather briskly, not giving him much time to respond. It was a bad habit of his, especially when something was weighing him down.
"Hallo, m'name's Archibald Burrows. I'm here on a bit of work, but I can't divulge much seeing as I'm a detective and detectives have to be good with keeping secrets and though my current work isn't much of a secret, it is a private matter, and as my mother and father always say 'private matters have no place in public forums', and seeing as this is a public forum, it's best I keep it to myself." a deep gasp for air "But the nature of my work requires that I gather information and in order to gather information, sometimes it is required that I talk to others who may or may not have witnessed an event or caught wind of a fleeing suspect, so that private matter puts me in a quandary. Do I tell you about that evil thieving Lady Ezlin, who I've been pursuing for the last three weeks, in hopes that you've maybe seen her or heard of her, or do I keep it to myself and drink this wonderful beverage in absolute silence while I stew in anger? Oh how I wish it weren't personal! I really do, but Mr. Man, that evil woman, she kissed me! She stole from me, and then she kissed me, without my consent at that! How dare she! No matter how pretty her smile is, or how gorgeous her eyes are, or how downright enchanting the lilting manner of her voice--I demand justice, damnit!" He clears his glass and looks over at the sultry devil spawn who's made her way to the bar. He quickly turns back to the bartender before she looks at him. "So what's your name, pal?"
Although quite intelligent even Daven had trouble keeping up with the halflings ramblings. Are you an Adventurer?... He says clearly interested in the answer
"Really? Are you Punch? Judy? Or are you the crocodile?" Absalom's eyes lit up with excitement. When Norme and Jezebeth came over, Absalom took a look at them, a little confused at why they were dressed the same. Then it dawned on him, and he leaned over to talk to Norme, whispering "Hey buddy, are you sure you should be bringing your sister in here?"
Alas, I am not in the play, I provide some lighting and minor special effects when needed
She walks timidly into the crowded common room, the cat purring at her heels, and approaches the bar. A bowl of stew, please, and a glass of ale, she half-whispers, looking self-consciously at the crowd. Shyly, she raises her hand to her arm. Purple, she mutters, and suddenly the long robe she wears changes from a drab black to a vivid violet with a brief glow where her hand rested. She sits in a corner and pulls out the yarn and needles from her patchwork bag, casting stitches on while she watches the hubbub of the common room.
A server takes your order and brings it back to the kitchen and bar
Wine - a good one. Just leave the bottle, she tells the barkeeper, and her voice has an airy, echoey quality to it, as if other voices join faintly with hers. Her deep hood almost completely conceals her features, but the faint glow in her eyes is hard to miss. Collecting the bottle and wineglass the barkeeper offers, she sits at an empty table.
Daven pulls a bottle out and hands it to the alluring woman Will you be having any food with that maam
Suddenly she speaks. Alleria Hawkins, came here with the circus, of course you can sit. Wait - you haven't asked yet, have you? Cause and effect is funny, isn't it?
I don't mean to be forward but since you mention cause and affect, perhaps you and detective burrows may have something in common Daven says indicating the long winded halfling
Joram nodded.
"I still have a few years in me, but I couldn't stay retired. I've got a bit left to do myself, I suppose."
He waved his hand around.
"Enjoying our little festival? I love this time of year, myself."
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Also Daven, if you are getting overwhelmed as the bartender, let me know and I will gladly throw an NPC your way to help out. It seems everyone is jumping on the cliché bandwagon, and trying to meet in a tavern. :)
It's alright as long as they tip well, besides I haven't had a chance to bust out a truly classic cliche...yet
Absalom's eyes fell a little bit at Daven's response about the puppets, but lit up again with enthusiasm at the mention of lightning. "You can make lightning? Really?". The little gnome was looking up at Daven with something akin to admiration and wonderment. "Are you a magician?"
Also Daven, if you are getting overwhelmed as the bartender, let me know and I will gladly throw an NPC your way to help out. It seems everyone is jumping on the cliché bandwagon, and trying to meet in a tavern. :)It's alright as long as they tip well, besides I haven't had a chance to bust out a truly classic cliche...yet
Archibald pulls out a pouch from his knapsack, nearly teetering off the stool in the process. He carefully removes another apricot jam pastry, breaks it in half and climbs over the counter to offer it to the busy bartender. "This Gurwurtztriminer is simply divine! A great combination, I agree. Please have this pastry as a token of my appreciation, and see for your self." Instead of returning to his seat, he plops down on the bar top and looks at the others chatting up the busy bartender, and the two odd women who've come in after him.
What an interesting bunch. I wonder if that woman is ill? Maybe she doesn't know she's a bit red. Oh, who am I to let her know.
Archibald shakes his head to clear his thoughts. Wait..he just asked me something... uhh..Adventure!
"Y-y-yes, I adventure! I mean, it's part of the job, being a Detective, AT LARGE and all. It means I am out in the world, experiencing what there is to experience, setting sights on lands unseen and all-uh-that. I do thoroughly enjoy it." A smug smile creeps along the detective's face. "I've come across some big monsters in the past. Big fierce, horrible lookin' monsters, I tell you. The kind that'd send shivers down y'mother's back! Wooo boy, monsters!" He looks around expecting everyone to be interested, but seems deeply hurt when he notices the busy bartender assisting someone else.
Oh, it isn't personal, Arch. He's got quite a rush allasudden. The Hare Shanty is a busy busy pub after all.
He returns to his proper seat and downs the rest of his wine. He places two gold coins on the counter top, to cover the drink and the bartender, and gathers his belongings. Almost finished descending the stool, mention of the circus surprises him enough to topple him and the stool over.
"Excuse me, Madam, but did you say you are with the Circus? I hope you do not mind if I ask you a few questions."
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Absalom's eyes fell a little bit at Daven's response about the puppets, but lit up again with enthusiasm at the mention of lightning. "You can make lightning? Really?". The little gnome was looking up at Daven with something akin to admiration and wonderment. "Are you a magician?"
Daven leans in closer to the gnome turning his head from side to side and in a conspiratorial whisper says I have something inside me that lets me...do things, my aunt and uncle are always telling me that I must keep this under wraps but they really never tell me why He then backs away and and says Lighting not lightning that's the stuff of great mages
Alrighty, just keep doing what you're doing. I saw you trying to redirect a few PCs towards one another; that should help.
That's my job, to bring the group together 8>)
Eyes wide and mouth open, Absalom listens to Daven, still unable to speak as he walks away. Hands shaking, he reaches out to grab his drink and downs it, spilling ale down his shirt front. Setting the mug down, he pulls out his violin and begins tuning it. Leaning over towards Jezebeth, Absalom does his best to lay on the charm and asks "Is there a song you'd like to hear?". Remembering the Norme was there, he hurriedly finished "That is, if your brother doesn't mind."
Then, one day, Absalom saw it. A procession came through town, a banner leading it, and he saw the most awe-inspiring thing ever…next to the large, shiny person, being carried by a smaller, less-shiny person, was a miraculous…machine? No, it couldn’t be, because no machine ever made noises like this! No clanks came when the strings touched, and the wood shined in the sunlight.
Knowing what he was going to do that day, Absalom followed the procession, eventually reaching the bard. Tugging on the bard’s saddle, Absalom excitedly tried to get the man’s attention, even though he was kicked at several times. Unfortunately, one kick landed on another horse, leading to chaos. Absalom had never had so much fun in his life! Not only were these nice, fancy dressed people expert horse riders, but they were kind enough to drop presents as their horses danced around.
Needless to say, Absalom made it home safely, after rescuing a wonderful gift that he was sure had been meant for him…his first violin. From then on, Absalom could only be found if you followed the sound of the violin carefully through town.
Finally, Absalom came to his parents, declaring his intention to return to the “gnome”-land and become a master musician. Sighing, Da gave him an old chain shirt and sword, with the words “If a Mephistopholes is returning home, you’ll need these.” Ma had tears in her eyes, but that could have been just sleep deprivation, as far as Absalom was concerned. Excited, but with no sense of direction, Absalom ran out the door, jumping on the first cart heading out of town that he saw.
Finally tossed off in Dromston, Absalom has begun his adventure to become a great musician. Eager to make it to the Most Fantastic College of Musical Learning and Historical Documentation Society of University Studies Division of Higher Learning, Absalom begins looking…for directions, a map, or just a big shiny person that can help keep him from getting eaten. A puppet show would be nice too. Or a sandwich…or a puppet show about sandwiches....
Ferasiel exits the garrison, waving goodbye to the old college friend, now serving there, who he had been visiting and walks into the town square. He enjoys feeling the sun on his face and watching the hubbub and bustle and smiles, looking around him. He spots Joram and almost instinctively examines the paladin's arms and armour with an expert eye, subconsciously filing away the details for contemplation at a later date; then, his gaze falls upon the pale elf who walks up to him and starts up a conversation.
By the stars, I have never seen... One of the Forlorn, perhaps? Or...
He becomes aware that he is staring, frowning or doing both and stops himself quickly, rubbing his face and clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment. He pretends to be engrossed in a stall selling a variety of cheap daggers and other ironmongery, watching the two converse out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey buddy, are you sure you should be bringing your sister in here?"
"Oh, uh... She's not my sister. That is, biologically, she isn't. It's a long story, but, she should be okay here. She can hold her own! It's also for the best if I keep an eye on her, since we travel together. We need to share expenses and all, even if I do pay more."
Norme fidgeted a bit, but kept his composure well. He sighed however as he mentioned the shared expenses. Jezebeth lightly giggled at Daven's response to her query, completely ignoring Norme's comments. She did take interest, however, when the Gnome leaned over towards her with his violin.
"Is there a song you'd like to hear? That is, if your brother doesn't mind."
"Surprise me, I'll listen to almost anything. Shortstack won't mind."
Jezebeth seemed confident, enjoying the opportunity to taunt Norme more as she gave him a wink, one that the Gnome could plainly see. Oh how she hated Norme, but she had no choice other than to stay at his side. She really didn't like the alternative, which was a guaranteed death. Perhaps the Gnome could be a charming distraction from the cruel reality.
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Meg is obviously uncomfortable in the sun, and looks back to the bar she left recently. The smell didn't seem so bad when she wanted to get away from the burning sun.
Making a proper curtsy to the paladin, Meg asked: "Can I buy you a drink in the local tavern? I am sure their overhead can't be too high, so the drinks should be reasonable."
Meg moved into the establishment with an amazingly quick sprint--a talent she picked up running in the woods as a child. Looking around, she noticed the place was now quite crowded.
Joram chuckled, and followed Meg into the Hare Shanty. He couldn't keep pace with her, but he tried nonetheless. He walked inside, eyes blinking from the difference in the light.
"Girl, where did yah get off to?"
He was looking around the bar. He obviously didn't see Meg.
Tuning his violin, Absalom concentrated, tongue sticking out between his teeth. After a few false starts, he began playing. There were wrong notes, and a few missed chords, but a cheery tune lifted out of the instrument and began to filter through the noise in the already crowded bar. Anyone watching Absalom would see a change come over him, different than his usual child-like exuberance. It would almost seem like he was removing himself from the world, concentrating solely on his music.
The tune was a little jig, something meant to cheer people up and get them dancing. Sitting up on the bar, Absalom started tapping his foot on his stool. Looking over at Norme and Jexebeth, he nodded, trying to get them to take up the beat. Maybe we can get some folks dancing, he thought. That'd prove I can get into the Most Fantastic College of Musical Learning and Historical Documentation Society of University Studies Division of Higher Learning!
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Casting a spell before entering, Meg found solace as her body collapsed upon herself as the familiar magic took hold (reduce person).
Entering the bar barely topping two and half feet and weighing barely over 20#, the dark elf was hard to notice. She watched as Joram moved past her, not even passing her a glance as he entered the place. Meg slipped unnoticed to corner table.
Her owl flew and landed on Joram's shoulder, and stared at the table in the corner, but still Joram could not make out the small elf seated there. Only when the owl flew back to Meg and landed on her shoulder and Meg spoke did he see her seated in the shadows, knees tucked under her body to stare over the table.
"My good man, if you can bring us some drinks and run us a tab, I will make good our debt."
Joram looked confused.
"Are you the same young lady I was speaking to outside? Or her younger sister?"
He shook his head, and wandered over to the bar. He tried to wave down the bartender.
He grumbled something about people getting shorter.