Golden Pegasus pt. 2: Staging Area (Inactive)

Game Master Sai Ling

Str 10
Dex 14
Con 12
Int 18
Wis 10
Cha 13

Fort +1
Ref +2
Will +5 (+6 vs. divinations, dominations, truth effects)

BAB +1
CMB +1
CMD 13

Light Crossbow +3 (1d8 / 19-20 x2 / 80ft)
Dagger +1 Melee, +3 Ranged (1d4 / 19-20 x2 / 10ft)

Traits : Secret-Keeper, Perfectionist's Brew

Feats : Extra Hex, Improved Initative, Persuasive
Special Abilities : Bonus Feat, Cantrips, Hex, Patron Spells, Skilled, Witch's Familiar

Skills : 23 Ranks (8 Level, +12 Int, +3 Human)
Bluff +8 (3 Rank, 3 Class, 1 Cha, 1 Trait)
Craft(Alchemy) +11 (2 Rank, 3 Class, 4 Int, 2 Trait)
Diplomacy +9 (3 Rank, 3 class, 1 Cha, 2 Feat)
Intimidate +8 (2 Rank, 3 Class, 1 Cha, 2 Feat)
Knowledge(Arcana) +9 (2 Rank, 3 Class, 4 Int)
Knowledge(Nobility) +8 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 4 Int)
Knowledge(Planes) +8 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 4 Int)
Perception +6 (3 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Wis)
Sense Motive +6 (3 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Wis)
Spellcraft +9 (2 Rank, 3 Class, 4 Int (+11 brewing potions))
Swim +4 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Str)

Languages : Common, Skald, Hallit, Sylvan, Giant

Known Spells : DC 14+spell level Concentration +6
0-level : arcane mark, bleed, dancing lights, daze, detect magic, detect poison, guidance, light, mending, message, putrefy food and drink, read magic, resistance, spark, stabilize, touch of fatigue
1-level : cause fear, charm person, cure light wounds, ear piercing scream, enlarge person, fumbletongue, mage armor, ray of enfeeblement, web bolt

Prepared Spells :
0-level : detect magic, detect poison, light, spark
1-level : cure light wounds, ear piercing scream, mage armor

Patron Spells : memory lapse

Hexes : DC 15
cackle, evil eye, misfortune

Gear :
Light Crossbow 4lb
Crossbow Bolts x20 2 lb
Dagger 1lb

Backpack 4lb
Bedroll 5lb
Waterskin 4lb
Flint & Steel -lb
Belt Pouch .5lb
Spell Component Pouch 1lb
Trail Rations x1 1lb
Mess Kit 1lb

Total Weight : 23.5 lb
Light Load: 33lb, Medium: 66lb, Heavy: 100lb

PP - 0, GP - , SP - , CP - , SC 100

Female Snow Owl
HP 10 / 10
AC 16
Touch 15
Flat-Footed 13
Armor Check -0
Speed 10ft, 60ft fly

Str 6
Dex 17
Con 11
Int 6
Wis 15
Cha 6

Fort +2
Ref +5
Will +7

BAB +1
CMB -3
CMD 9

Talons (2) +6 (1d4-2)

Special Abilities : Alertness, Improved Evasion, Share Spells, Empathic Link, Store Spells, Weapon Finesse

Skills :
Bluff +4 (3 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Cha)
Craft(Alchemy) +3 (2 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Int)
Diplomacy +4 (3 Rank, 3 class, -2 Cha)
Fly +13 (3 Rank, 3 class, 3 Dex, 4 Size)
Intimidate +3 (2 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Cha)
Knowledge(Arcana) +3 (2 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Int)
Knowledge(Planes) +3 (2 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Int)
Perception +12 (3 Rank, 3 Class, 2 Wis, 4 Race)
Sense Motive +8 (3 Rank, 3 Class, 2 Wis)
Spellcraft +3 (2 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Int)
Stealth +19 (1 Rank, 3 class, 3 Dex, 4 Race, 8 Size)
Swim +2 (1 Rank, 3 Class, -2 Str)

Languages : Owl

Known Spells : DC 14+spell level Concentration +6
0-level : arcane mark, bleed, dancing lights, daze, detect magic, detect poison, guidance, light, mending, message, putrefy food and drink, read magic, resistance, spark, stabilize, touch of fatigue
1-level : cause fear, charm person, cure light wounds, ear piercing scream, enlarge person, fumbletongue, mage armor, ray of enfeeblement, web bolt

Gear :

Total Weight : lb
Light Load : 10lb, Medium : 20lb, Heavy : 30lb

The fortunes of Zoriya's direct family were shattered, their reputations ruined, and their holdings taken from them. By the time Zoriya was born all those decades later not much had improved. Their lot was still vastly better than that of the peasantry, but that's no balm to a wounded aristocrat's pride. The Jadwiga Yelizaveta never forgot the indignities they suffered or stopped trying to claw their way back into power.

So the fifth daughter and seventh child of Petrova Yelizaveta came into the world with a single expectation on her shoulders: to improve the family's position in the world at all costs. Petrova ran her family with icy spite and determination, molding her children into the weapons she planned to use against her rivals. The eldest daughter would take over the meager estate they held in the Verge, the two boys would go to war until they died or became marriageable, and the remaining daughters would marry as well as they possibly could.

Zoriya's childhood was rigidly disciplined, often cruel, and largely loveless. She had this in common with almost all of her peers, so it never struck her as odd. Irriseni politics don't pay much lip service to honor, trust, or compassion--ruthlessness and deception are the tools every Jadwiga child needs to succeed, or even stay alive.

At nine, Zoriya watched this in action as her fourteen-year-old sister Katrina drowned her own twin Katrisya in the icy river. She did nothing; there wasn't anything to do, except take note of what could happen to anyone foolish enough to indulge in trust, even with their own sister.

Petrova's schemes for her children bore little fruit, her sons showing no particular skill in martial life and her daughters failing to fulfill her marital ambitions. By the time Zoriya reached young womanhood Petrova decided that her youngest would do better, or she wouldn't do anything at all. She withdrew her support from her other offspring and focused on polishing Zoriya into a finely honed political weapon.

Zoriya took to it well enough. She was intelligent, beautiful, and determined to escape her mother's suffocating control. She knew all she had to do was keep playing the part of the dutiful daughter and privately work on her own interests until the right time came for her to make her own moves. In her own precious spare moments she voraciously studied the arcane, determined that she would be witch enough on her own to earn a higher place in society. In the daylight and evenings she smiled and gossiped and flirted, attended what social events their backwards part of Irrisen offered, and kept her seething resentment of her lot in life to herself.

At nineteen, she caught the eye of a prize her mother deemed acceptable--Radimer Elvanna, great-grandson of the queen. Although not an especially remarkable member of the family Radimer still held significant social cachet, and his infatuation with a pretty, clever girl of lesser status had to be exploited while it lasted. One rushed engagement and speedy marriage later Zoriya finally had a scrap of maternal approval as well as her nominal freedom.

Married life soon turned out not to agree with her. Zoriya had barely known Radimer beforehand, and he certainly hadn't been permitted to know anything about her but what she chose to show him. Personality conflicts arose immediately--Zoriya's chilly precision clashed with Radimer's high-tempered impulsiveness. It also became apparent that Radimer had married down with the expectation of being able to control Zoriya. For her part, Zoriya found the idea of a man helming a marriage laughable, and she did laugh. This was not the wisest course of action.

What started as conflicts of opinion deepened into a cold war between the two of them. Radimer hardened his feelings on his authority while Zoriya retreated to frozen, exact, and utterly contemptuous social correctness. She'd never expected to have a husband she could love or even respect, but she had imagined having one who was easier to live with. Still, they were stuck together, and there were advantages to moving up in the world. Their estate in Redtooth was large, if severe, and Zoriya had her own household to manage and library to stock. All in all, things could have been worse, and one good thing about Radimer was how much time he spent any tending to his military career.

At twenty-one, Zoriya did as she was expected to and produced a son she named Vasily. A firstborn daughter would have been preferable, but a son was acceptable. Radimer was pleased by the child at first. Zoriya regarded the boy with much more ambivalence. He was sticky, helpless, and somehow foreign, as if he had come from somewhere far more mysterious than her body. She didn't know what to do with a child, especially a male one. Vasily seemed to look at her with preternatural calm for an infant, wide-eyed and quiet, and confronted with such a small person Zoriya was--for the first time she could remember--at a loss.

Obviously, the only thing for it was study. Zoriya moved Vasily's cot into her library and worked with him nearby, keeping a sharp eye on his behavior and development. She even fed him from her own breast out of a curious reluctance to let the wetnurse handle him. Over time and almost completely against her will Zoriya found herself increasing fond of her son. He had been an obligation at first, but she now took pride in his wobbling steps and easy disposition. Of all the things she had ever made or worked on Vasily was the most lovely, the most promising, and the closest to her heart.

Radimer grew to disapprove of Zoriya's closeness with Vasily and pushed the 'mother's boy' away. Neither of them noticed or particularly cared, bundled up in a cozy world of books and furs. The household was effectively cut in half: Radimer's world of raucous parties with his rough and tumble friends, and Zoriya's domain of study, financial management, and social graces. Whenever these worlds intersected, such as at public events the couple was required to attend together, they crashed together like great shards of sharp ice.

It was after such a feast day that twenty-three year old Zoriya bundled Vasily up and stormed off into the sickly woods near Redtooth to clear her head. Radimer had overindulged in spirits and made passes at another woman, much to Zoriya's humiliation--an incident which was all it took to break the reindeer's back, so to speak. Her frustation at being trapped in the web of Irriseni society, her lack of practical magical skill always dwarfing her scholarly expertise, her husband's crudeness and bad temper leaving her bruised and publically shamed, her status forever stifled by living in the Verge so far from the heart of the country--these all boiled over in that moment. She finally admitted to herself that she was afraid of always being a backwater noble's wife, with no distinguishing accomplishments of her own. When she eventually sat down in exhaustion Zoriya did something she hadn't done since she was six: she cried.

These weren't dignified, quiet tears, either. Zoriya shrieked her stifled outrage and loss at a cloudy sky, accompanied by her frightened and confused toddler, until her throat was raw and her chest burned. It was then, finally, that the force that had been watching her since she was a little girl chose to move.

Zoriya came out of the wood a witch with a snowy white owl circling above her head. She was much calmer upon her return; Vasily, on the other hand, didn't make a sound for a week. Zoriya settled back into her life quietly enough. Being a proper witch didn't change anything about where she was. It only changed everything about what she could do to make it different. She fell even deeper into her studies with Vasily at her right hand, determined to use her newly gifted skills to test all the theories she'd been working on for years. Her sections of the estate soon became eerie, spell-shocked places, riddled with mystical and alchemical equipment.

Her second pregnancy came as an annoying surprise, all in all, but Zoriya decided that another child wouldn't be a terrible thing despite the inconvenience. Vasily had turned out well enough, and Radimer did want a daughter who could have a political future. For the sake of domestic peace Zoriya went through another nine months of discomfort to produce another child--another son.

Although not the hoped for daughter, Koschei immediately delighted his father by being a loud, vigorous, and disruptive little boy, the very opposite of his elder brother. It would have logically followed that Zoriya would spurn the child. Love rarely follows logic, though, and Zoriya was fascinated by Koschei's limitless energy. His brother had been a quiet balm to the unhappy early years of her marriage, but Koschei was like the wellspring of magic flowing in her blood, irrepressible and miraculous.

The feud between Radimer and Zoriya intensified. Radimer was insistent that Koschei not be 'coddled' like Vasily, trotting the boy out at convocations of the local men's club he held in their hall. Vasily was also roped into this at times, as Radimer felt he'd been mothered more than enough. A boy's place was to grow into a warrior, after all, not to be tied to his bookish mother's apron his entire life. No son of Radimer's would shame him that way.

Zoriya fought back viciously. A hall of drunken idiots was no place for a baby or a bookish little boy, and with stinging verbal and magical rebukes she made her position clear. No child of hers would be ruined by poor examples or lack of sleep.

Fighting which had previously been kept more or less private between the couple began to spill out across the entire household. Zoriya rarely raised her voice, while Radimer often did. Zoriya subtly undercut Radimer with scathing but seemingly innocuous remarks in front of outsiders, while Radimer ranted about her to his friends. Zoriya wore long sleeves, while Radimer grew bolder and bolder about his disrespect.

It finally came to a head one night a little after Koschei's third birthday. A fairly typical argument about Vasily's tutors (namely, that Zoriya didn't feel he needed any but her while Radimer wanted him to be influenced by military men) transformed into something harsher and darker. Perhaps it was the mead Radimer had been indulging in or simply an overdue climax: either way, he told Zoriya that one way or another, he was going to have her put aside so he could raise his sons properly without her.

Zoriya panicked. It wasn't the implicit threat to her life if she didn't go quietly, although that was obvious, but instead the idea of not being able to be with her children. In her own way she had kept Vasily and Koschei safe from the tangles of Irriseni intrigue by cloistering them at home with her, sparing them from the sort of childhood she had endured. The idea of leaving them to Radimer was unbearable. Koschei would surely become another arrogant brute like his father--and Vasily would be lucky to make it to adulthood without his father or his brother killing him to clear the way for Koschei's succession. Being raised as Jadwiga boys should be would ruin the only truly good work Zoriya had ever done.

So she gutted Radimer in the solar with one of her exceptionally sharp ritual knives. It was an impulse, and one she instantly regretted. Not killing him, no, but killing him at that moment, without having prepared for it. It made handling the whole thing much more difficult. She dragged him to a dusty corner and set herself to packing as quietly as she could.

By morning, Zoriya, Vasily, and Koschei were well on their way out of Irrisen, hours ahead of the dogs (or wolves) that were sure to be following the killer of an Elvanna general's beloved grandson. Zoriya had no idea where they were going, except--far. As far away as she could possibly take them, to some place where no one would ever know who they were.

Across an ocean would be a good place to start over, surely.

Her motions are well-trained and calculated, with Zoriya being constantly aware of how to stand and sit to her best advantage. She lacks the spontaneity of natural grace, but doesn't miss it. Her back is invariably straight thanks to hours of posture drills and she keeps her hands demurely folded when at rest. In dress she favors dark colors and long lines to make her seem both taller than 5'2" and slimmer in the hips than motherhood made her. In spite of--indeed, partially because of--what she sees as unnecessary shortness and curves Zoriya is a beautiful woman. She'd be even more so if she weren't so severe, but charm is as charm does. Zoriya would rather rely on force of personality anyway.

Some of her pride is justified. She does have a great deal of self-control, she's a brilliant scholar, and her wits are exceedingly sharp. As a witch she has promise. She knows she's lovely to look upon, that she's ruthless, that she's not petty-minded or needlessly cruel. She could be a much worse person than she is easily.

She could also be a much better one. Underneath Zoriya's aloof shell she teams with anxiety, which is the main motivator for her controlling tendencies. If she has control over herself, she feels like she has more control over the world, which is unnervingly random, complex, and full of people Zoriya measures herself against only to judge herself wanting this or that important human quality. The things she knows herself to be good at often feel shallow compared to the value she sees other people finding in their lives. What use is the perfect alchemical brew if it effects nothing, changes no one, and exists only in isolation? What good is witchcraft if all it's used for is flaunting status or power? Why pour over dozens of books to understand a concept that will never have an application that matters?

Thus, even when Zoriya knows for an objective fact she has done something brilliantly she still quietly believes that it doesn't mean anything. She uses perfection as her guideline and of course always falls short of it in some way, as any mortal being does. She's self-critical enough to know this about herself, but it doesn't change her insecurity or gnawing sense of failure.

In the end, what comes off as pride is more of a complex shield Zoriya built around herself since childhood to protect herself. It's a shield which served well, once, but is now so dense and sharp that it's difficult for Zoriya to loosen even a little. In very real ways, her mask kept her alive, and showing vulnerability feels like asking for a knife in the throat.

Yet vulnerability is part of loving anything, and Zoriya does love--an emotion which surprised her very much when she finally acknowledged it. In her case, that vulnerability is multiplied tenfold by how small and precious the two people she loves are. Zoriya finds it much easier to understand why her mother never showed affection to her daughters now: it is terrifying to be attached to anyone or anything that needs you so much and is so helpless to defend itself. Her heart is in two halves walking around outside of her chest, which entangles Zoriya much more deeply and honestly into the world than she might otherwise like.

Then again, Zoriya doesn't enjoy the ice tower she built for herself to live in. It hasn't occurred to her yet that she can chose to leave it, or that being happy is even something she should want alongside safety and freedom, but she has the potential to climb down eventually and become a better realized human being. She's been starved of the company of genuine peers for so long that she doesn't even know she's deeply lonely, but she is. When she does understand that she'll be on her way to a peace her life has always been lacking.

Aloofness and lack of real friends doesn't mean that Zoriya doesn't know perfectly well how to be sociable. Even at her snippiest she has a kind of cold magnetism that catches people's attention, and when she deliberately makes an effort she can be very charming (or implacable, or inspiring, or terrifying, depending on the situation). Wordplay is as second nature as magic is to her. If at all possible Zoriya prefers to tackle a conflict between people with words first, force second. This isn't out of a distaste for bloodshed so much as a distaste of crudeness.

With people Zoriya can offer respect, she can go from sociable to outright interesting. She likes to challenge and to be challenged by people worth her time. Unlike some intellectuals (people Zoriya scornfully thinks of as fools) she knows her knowledge is incomplete. She doesn't enjoy admitting when she's been wrong, of course, but if the evidence is compelling she has sense enough to change her mind. When it comes to judging the merits of the minds around her Zoriya places less emphasis on formal education and more on whether or not a person seems to have actual intelligence behind their actions. A well-taught idiot is still an idiot, to her mind, and she has no patience for that.

In extreme anger or frustration Zoriya reacts by going even colder than she usually is--which can make her seem falsely calm. In reality, Zoriya is a pent up tempest of spite that she restrains by the skin of her teeth. If pushed sufficiently she snaps back, first with vicious words and mockery, then with hexes, and finally with an actively aggressive move. A lifetime of biting her tongue in the face of things that were either obviously cruel or stupid has filled her with restless energy constantly seeking a valid release. In cases where her anger is righteous, this can make Zoriya a great force for justice. Most of the time, her temper snapping only leads to strife.

This untapped energy ties into her patron. Zoriya is watched and nurtured by some force that likes to see her unbalanced, unsettled, and perhaps more than a little unhinged. Anything that looses Zoriya's iron will is a delight to this overseer. Zoriya is painfully aware this is the case, however. It leads her to try to balance a desire for greater power to protect her family with the fear of whatever it is that apparently hungers for her breakdown.

Her commitment to order comes partly from this as much as her highly structured upbringing. Stability is more important to Zoriya than a necessarily moral society, but then again she's bright and sensitive enough to notice that an oppressive and cruel society is never truly stable. To that end, she tentatively believes that a more equal situation--some kind of meritocracy--is a better way to organize people. Of course, she's still quite sure that she would be at the top of any such society, so her classism remains essentially intact. She knows that all people are theoretically equal in potential, she just doesn't necessarily believe it.

In other negative traits, Zoriya is quite sexist. She doesn't think men are always duller, more impulsive, and less capable than women. She just assumes that's usually the case. Men have their own little sphere of skill in warfare and such, but the real tasks of leadership and society fall to women. She finds male-dominated society baffling and a little pathetic, what with women allowing themselves to be oppressed by their lessers and men fumbling simple tasks of politics due to their overly emotional natures. Her own sons are, of course, an exception to the general rule of masculine limitations.

Contrasted with the above Zoriya has a strong sense of fairness, which made her a much less harsh overseer than many Jadwiga witches. She did mete out harsh rebukes and beatings in the course of her management of the estate, but only to a degree that struck her as appropriate. This led some of her servants to mislabel her as merciful. Zoriya prefers the idea that she's just. People ought to get what they deserve, and that judgment ought to be made from a place of calm neutrality. In many ways her sense of morality and civil duty aligns strongly with Hellknights, although she's not overly familiar with them.

Returning to motherhood: one place where Zoriya's ability to make herself somewhat objective falls apart is her sons. She's fiercely devoted to and protective of them, which is a quality that will extend to anything she ever comes to care about. She doubts her ability to be a properly gentle and nurturing mother (or friend), but she is damn sure that nothing will transgress on the people she cares for. It's a primal strain of territoriality that stems right from the heart of being a witch--the things that are hers are hers, for better or worse, and gods help anyone who tries to change that.

In the end, Zoriya is a twenty-eight-year-old mother of two with a much less secure grasp on who she is than she lets on. She has great potential to either become a truly positive force in the world or to become a monster, but there's no space for her to stay in stasis now that she's left her old life behind. One way or another Zoriya is poised for great change. It's up to fate to decide which way she falls.

Long term in character, Zoriya will want to set up a school and to further define the structure of government in the new community. She believes strongly that the next generation benefits from education. School provides a place to keep all the most vulnerable members of the community out from underfoot and away from danger for a few hours a day. This frees the usual child tenders to provide work for the community instead of constantly having their attention divided between the young and their labor. A strong system of government, on the other hand, provides continuity and structure to daily life. Zoriya does want this to be something like a democracy, but the ultimate form doesn't matter as much as making sure it's equitable and steady.

Zoriya will, of course, be ready to offer her services as teacher/child-minder and political figure.

On a more (blatantly) selfish note, Zoriya will be very interested in the developing brewery and its potential to be abused as a laboratory.

Out of character, I want to develop Zoriya out of the limited mindset she has as a Jadwiga witch. For one thing, she has a lot to stand to learn about actual equality, which will reshape the way she approaches her political ambitions--men and illiterate people voting??? Madness! And yet, ethically correct. I can see her engaging in some pretty heated debate about the value of precise structure with certain folk in the community.

I also would like to see Zoriya become more accepting of herself and her impulses, as I'm really playing with the idea of 'repressed wild witch' here. She probably won't go as far as dancing naked in the moonlight, but cutting loose a little would be a good thing for herself and for how she approaches building a new world.

Ultimately, I see Zoriya either gravitating towards NG (best case) or LE (worst case). If her ethics sway towards genuine compassion and freedom she'll come to see that absolute adherence to law is stifling, while if she tumbles down the moral cliff she'll believe brutal rule is the only sustainable kind.

In regards to her children, my OOC goal is for Zoriya to find peace with the kind of mother she is, not the kind of mother she thinks she should be. Zoriya takes a straightforward approach to loving her sons that clashes with the fairy tale ideal of a gentle mother always baking sweets and full of tender words. What she struggles with is believing that her way of caring for her sons is as valid and loving as a gentler mother's approach, only different. She genuinely doubts that she is even capable of loving her children enough, which is something I'd like to see challenged in play. (I.E. Yeah, put some NPCs in peril, I know you wanna.)

Koschei Yelizaveta is three, with shockingly white-blonde hair sticking up at all angles from his head and a nigh-permanent look of being about to get into trouble. Koschei--Koya to his family--wants to be a werewolf when he grows up, and to this end he likes to strike at people's ankles with his teeth for practice. His prize possession is a carved wooden wolf he calls Pyotr, who goes everywhere with him. Ever since the flight from Irrisen and his first experience of liquid water from the sky Koschei has been afraid of rain, a fear only reinforced by the trip across the sea. His mother tongue is Skald, he speaks a little Taldan, and his main form of communication is loudness.

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DEFENSE
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AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 15. . (+1 Dex, +5 armor)
HP 22 (3d8+6)
Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +7

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OFFENSE
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Speed 20 ft. (Medium Armor)
Melee Greataxe +5 (1d12+7 nonlethal/20/x3)
. . Greataxe +4 (1d12+10 nonlethal/20/x3)
. . Scimitar +5 (1d6+5 nonlethal/18-20/x2)
. . Scimitar +4 (1d6+7 nonlethal/18-20/x2)
. . Gauntlet +5 (1d3+4/20/x2)
. . Gauntlet +4 (1d3+6/20/x2)
Ranged Sling +2 (1d4+4/20/x2)
Special Attack Judgment (Su) 1 of 1/day
. . . . Detect Alignment (Sp) (can use Detect Evil, Good, Law or Chaos at will)

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STATISTICS
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Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 15, Cha 7
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 16
Feats Enforcer, Power Attack (-1/+2)
Traits Blade of Mercy (+1 nonlethal damage w/ slashing weapons), Outlander (Exile) (+2 Initiative)
Skills Intimidate 3 ranks (+12), Diplomacy 3 ranks (+8), Perception 3 ranks (+8), Sense Motive 3 ranks (+7), Heal 1 rank (+6), Survival 1 rank (+6), Craft (cooking) 1 rank (+4), Knowledge (Arcana) 1 rank (+4), Knowledge (Nature) 1 rank (+4), Knowledge (Planes) 1 rank (+4), Knowledge (Religion) 1 rank (+4), Spellcraft 1 rank (+4)
Languages Common, Orc
Combat Gear -; Other Gear 8sp 5cp, greataxe, scimitar, sling, sling bullet (20), scale armor, heavy steel shield, adventurer's outfit, backpack, bedroll, winter blanket, candle (5), flint and steel, belt pouch, silk rope (50 ft.), torch (5), silver holy symbol of Sarenrae, 5 days trail rations, waterskin

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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Favored Class: Inquisitor (+1/2 bonus on Intimidate checks and Knowledge checks to identify creatures)
Half-orc Racial Traits
Conversion Inquisition
Charm of Wisdom (Ex)
Judgment (Su) (1/day)
Monster Lore (Ex)
Stern Gaze (Ex)
Cunning Initiative (Ex)
Detect Alignment (Sp)
Track (Ex)

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SPELLS
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Inquisitor (CL 2, Concentration +4)
0- [DC12] create water, detect magic, guidance, light, read magic
1- [DC13] 3/day cure light wounds, expeditious retreat, shield of faith

Things were going well for him until one day he stepped into the ring and found himself facing Mathias. His brother had never had much combat ability. From the moment Soren stepped into the ring he knew his "master" had set this up to watch the "poor demon brat kill his only brother." He could see his fat face laughing about it. He would have no part of it. Soren threw down his sword. Mathias lacked Soren's strength, but he knew what would become of Soren if he defied the master in so outright a fashion. He begged Soren to pick up his sword. If their fight was good enough the master may even show mercy. At his brother's request, Soren relented and continued the fight, if it could be called one. Soren tried to go easy on his brother but in no time Mathias was disarmed on the ground defeated. Soren stopped and turned to his master hoping for the mercy Mathias spoke of, but he received none. Soren's master ordered him to finish his brother off with a dismissive wave. He had grown bored with his own twisted game yet would still not show mercy. Soren threw down his sword and kneeled on the ground. This caught his master's attention. He ordered Soren to pick up his sword but Soren did not move.

His master was outraged. He threatened to have them both killed if Soren did not follow his orders, but Soren would not relent. His master roared at his guards and in moments both Mathias and Soren were pinned to the ground in chains. Soren's master had his men beat soren while he made promises of the suffering to come. That was when he did something he shouldn't have. Soren's master picked up the blade and slit Mathias's throat. Soren had barely even registered what had happened before he tore threw his bonds like paper and snapped his "master's" neck like a twig. The rest is kind of a blur to Soren, but he remembers freeing the other slaves and leading the charge against their captors. Many people died, but many others escaped to freedom...or so it seemed. Slave revolts are like sparks near a powder keg. Just one and the whole thing can go off. So the entire country brought their forces to bear against this band of "revolutionaries." Soren was even given a bounty and several fabricated charges. He decided it was best for him to go his own way from the others. As much for their safety as for his own. Soren was always faster that other people. If they came with him it would only slow him down. They all scattered and Soren ran. And he ran and he ran and he ran some more. But with the bounty on his head even in other countries he was still pursued by bounty hunters. Mathias was the smarter of the two. He likely could have come up with a plan, but all Soren could do was run. Until he heard about an expedition into the new world it seemed like his chance to finally be free.

He also doesn't like using swords or most other weapons anymore as they do nothing but remind him of his brothers death. Instead, he uses his raw strength and speed to fight with just a spiked shield.