Here is a rough sketch of my character. I haven't spent the 100 gold he got in illgotten gains but will if chosen. I'm going to hold of on background for now until the dm gets back to me on my question.
Human (Garundi) Cavalier 1 (Pathfinder RPG Advanced Player's Guide 32)
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +4; Senses Perception +5
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Defense
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AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16 (+4 armor, +2 shield, +2 Dex)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +3 (+1 trait bonus vs. mind-affecting effects)
Resist issian
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Offense
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Speed 20 ft.
Melee lance +4 (1d8+4/×3) and
. . scimitar +4 (1d6+3/18-20)
Ranged shortbow +3 (1d6/×3)
Special Attacks challenge
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Statistics
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Str 17, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 10
Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 16
Feats Escape Route[UC], Iron Will, Mounted Combat
Traits issian, reactionary
Skills Diplomacy +4, Handle Animal +4, Perception +5, Ride +1, Survival +5 (+6 to provide food and water for allies or to protect allies from harsh weather); Racial Modifiers ride mount, dragon's skills
Languages Common, Osiriani
SQ orders (order of the dragon), tactician
Other Gear hide armor, heavy wooden shield, arrows (40), lance, scimitar, shortbow, 31 gp
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Special Abilities
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+5 Ride while riding your bonded mount. (Ex) Cancel your armor check penalty of -5 while riding your mount.
Animal Companion Link (Ex) You have a link with your Animal Companion.
Dragon's Challenge +1 (1/day) (Ex) +1 to damage target, -2 AC vs. others when used, allies gain +1 to hit the target of your challenge.
Dragon's Skills +1 (Ex) +1 to Survival checks for allies.
Escape Route You do not provoke attacks of opportunity when moving through spaces adjacent to allies
Issian +1 Will save vs. Mind-affecting.
Mounted Combat (1/round) Once per round you can attempt to negate a hit to your mount in combat.
Tactician (Escape Route, 3 rds, 1/day) (Ex) Grant the use of your teamwork feats to all allies in 30 ft.
Horse
N Large animal
Init +1; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +1
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Defense
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AC 17, touch 11, flat-footed 15 (+2 armor, +1 Dex, -1 size, +4 natural, +1 dodge)
hp 14 (+4)
Fort +5, Ref +4, Will +1
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Offense
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Speed 50 ft.
Melee bite +3 (1d4+3) and
. . 2 hooves +3 (1d6+3)
Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 13, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 17 (21 vs. trip)
Feats Dodge
Tricks Attack, Attack, Attack Any Target, Combat Riding, Come, Defend, Down, Guard, Heel
Skills Acrobatics +5, Swim +7
SQ attack any target, combat riding
Other Gear leather armor
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Special Abilities
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Attack Any Target [Trick] The animal will attack any creature on command.
Combat Riding [Trick] The animal has been trained to bear a rider into combat.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Scent (Ex) Detect opponents within 15+ feet by sense of smell.
The man sits his chestnut mare as though he was born in the saddle, a long lance couched under one arm, he wears thick leather armor under loose white robes, and his head is wrapped in a kheffiyeh. A shield is on his back and a scimitar on his hip. His dark eyes are narrowed in a permanent squint and his cheeks are shaved clean. He is pale for a Garundi, but his high cheeks and sharp nose mark him as a foreigner in this northern land. The aura of command lasts until he swings his leg over and slides off his mount. He walks stiffly, and is shorter than he seemed in the saddle.
Zina had several of the Dragon's famed horses, and she bred a small herd, keeping the best to adapt the bloodline to the harsh northern climate, and she raised her son to the saddle, teaching him the ways of the cavalry, teaching him the honor of the soldier, dedicated not to any lord or ideal, but to his fellows, his brothers in arms. As Brevoy was united, and then fragmented again, Sikandir practiced with the lance, the scimitar, and the bow, learning to fight from horseback as soon as he could sit a pony.
It was Zina who was offered the charter, but she had her farm and her herd of Osirion horses. Her days of making war were over, but she told Sikandir this was his opportunity. He was 21, still untested in battleShe gave him her arms and the best of her herd as a mount, and sent him south, to accept the Swordlord's charter on her behalf. As he rode towards Restov, the crisp air told him that this was his destiny. He was to become his own man now, to discover his worth.
Desired Kingdom Role: General would by far be the best role for Sikandir, but warden or royal enforcer could be good as well.
Sikandir walks stiffly into the room, his robes flapping in the wind blowing through the open windows, his face fiercely serious. He is a small man, and he feels the smirking gaze of the Rostlanders as he crosses to stand before the Lord-Mayor. He clears his throat, and then drops to one knee.
"I am Sikandir, son of Zina and Khemet, both riders of the Dragon's Wing company," he says. He reaches into one of the deep pockets of his robe and produces a scroll with the Swordlords seal. "I accept this charter, on behalf of my parents, and the privileges and responsibilities associated with it. I am ready to ride to Greenbelt today, to tame the land and bring it under the rule of the Swordlords."
He speaks as though he had memorized the speech. When he rises, he unrolls the scroll and turns his head slowly, looking around the room, as though daring anyone to dispute his right to the charter.
I changed one of her traits (missed that bit about sourcebooks) and adjusted her statistics accordingly.
I also updated her backstory and personality slightly.
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But that changed when he met Grigori Stihlgard, an Ulfen priest of the Lord in Iron and a hired-sword protecting one of the caravans Ausk and his bandits attempted to raid. Although outnumbered 5 to 1, Grigori with out any allies cut through Ausk's crew. Fighting with a fury and skill Ausk had never witnessed in his life. For the first time in his 17 years, Ausk knew the fear and thrill of fighting for his life against a superior opponent. He threw himself at Grigori, driving the priest back several steps with blow after blow of his great sword. The young orc's ferocity impressed the Priest, who weathered the young Half-Orc's flurry, only to counter with an offensive of his own that left Ausk on his back, beaten and bloodied.
But rather than slay the Bandit where he lay, Grigori claimed him as weregild and declared Ausk his Thrall. For the next five years, Ausk was Grigori's slave, sparring partner and unknown to Ausk, apprentice. He learned much from his captor, who always seemed to have another trick up his sleeve or a little more strength than Ausk could overcome.
Until, one day frustrated by his inability to beat the Priest, Ausk cursed him and demanded Grigori kill him, rather than live another day as a slave. The Old Ulfen laughed and told Ausk he was ready. Confused, Ausk paused. "Ready for what?" he demanded. Grigori replied, ready to serve the Lord in Iron and from that day forth Ausk was no longer a thrall, but an acolyte of Gorum and student of the ancient priest.
From Grigori, Ausk learned the prayers and rituals that would augment his already impressive physical skills with divine power. Until he was ready to set out on his own.
His opportunity to leave his apprenticeship came in the form of a Charter, to conquer the Stolen Lands. Here he could test his mettle against man and beast, against creatures who would not hesitate to kill him. Grigori made arrangements for his apprentice to join the survey company as a hired sword and ordained him a War Priest of Gorum in a simple ritual that involved him giving the Half-Orc a book of prayers, a Greatsword and a holy symbol of Gorum, with the commission to go forth and make war, earning glory in his Lord's name.
[Spoiler=Desired Kingdom Role:] General, Chief Priest (if we want to be a war-like nation)
Still, he remained silent, as the noble continued his monologue.
Once he finished, the half-orc sniffed the air, grunted and growled in his basso-baritone.
"Just let me know when it's time to fight."
Ralph Flannigan - The Swordlords are pretty much exactly what it says on the box. They're minor lords who are masters of the Aldori duelling school of swordsmanship.
For a slight history lesson:
The Aldori school of swordfighting dates back to Baron Sirian Aldori, who was famously defeated in a duel against a bandit lord, vanished for several years, and then returned to defeat the same bandit lord handily in a rematch. He then issued a wager of a hundred thousand gold measures to anyone who could defeat him in a duel. Many flocked to Rostland to attempt the challenge, and Restov owes much of its wealth and history to the descendants of those failed challengers, who then apprenticed under Baron Aldori.
When Choral the Conqueror came to Rostland two hundred and ten years ago, the Aldori Swordlords fought against him... and lost. They were lured into a place now known as the Valley of Fire and ambushed by Choral's red dragon allies. To this day, though the Swordlords of Restov bend the knee to the Dragonscale Throne, they do so reluctantly, and many long for the days of yore, though it has been many human lifetimes since.
Today, the Swordlords continue their heritage of duelling and try to mimic the sophistication of faraway Taldor, preferring to think of themselves as the most civilized part of Brevoy.
So, minor lords who don't care for their liege and think of themselves as more sophisticated than they really are. They're hiring adventurers to explore the Stolen Lands, which they feel rightly belong to them, not to the crown, because they still feel they ought to rule all of Rostland.
Lothar von Juningar - I was confused by this at first, since the trait is in the Player's Guide and the Aldori Dueling Mastery feat is in the hardback Inner Sea World Guide, until I realized you meant an archetype from the Inner Sea Primer... which I don't own. Personally, I think I would tend to build a Swordlord as a Swashbuckler now that the Advanced Class Guide is available, since it seems a perfect fit for a duelling style based on Weapon Finesse.
mathpro18 - Well, taking a look at my hand-dandy Ultimate Campaign book under Moral Conflicts, I can see that a person can be guilty of murder but still be Chaotic Good, so you're fine on that front... but the important question is the rest of Who/Where/When/Why/What/How. What is murder and When is presumably recent, but Who was murdered, Where did it take place, Why did he do it, and How does he feel about the whole situation? If he murdered a minor lordling related to the Surtovas, the Swordlords might actually approve of this and be acting to help him hide out in the Stolen Lands for a while until everything blows over by granting him a charter. Or maybe they don't even know about the murder because it took place up in Port Ice or somewhere similarly distant within Brevoy. Playing a character guilty of murder isn't a problem... playing a character with a weak or inconsistent background is.
Your putting quite a bit of effort into these bits of advice.
I'd like to think that's a good thing for everyone. Ideally, even people who don't get selected can improve their characters for the next campaign they submit to.
Any suggestions for Ary?
Thanks, that helps quite a bit. I'm fine making up exchanges between unimportant random commoners and such, but I wouldn't want to put words into a potential NPC's mouth, especially not knowing about them first. I'll get to work on a post with this information in mind.
And without further ado:
- Crunch:Durielle Omenstar
Female Elf Time Oracle (Seer) 1 (Pathfinder RPG Advanced Player's Guide 42; Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Magic 0)
CG Medium humanoid (elf)
Init +3; Senses low-light vision; Perception +7
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Defense
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AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14 (+4 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 7 (1d8-1)
Fort -1, Ref +3, Will +3; +2 vs. enchantments, +4 Competence bonus vs. disease
Immune sleep; Resist oracle's curses (wasting)
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Offense
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Speed 20 ft.
Melee spear +0 (1d8/×3) and
. . unarmed strike +0 (1d3 nonlethal)
Ranged javelin +3 (1d6)
Oracle (Seer) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4):
. . 1st (4/day)—cure light wounds, doom (DC 14), moment of greatness (UC)
. . 0 (at will)—create water, guidance, light, read magic
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 16, Con 8, Int 14, Wis 13, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 13
Feats Extra Revelation[APG]
Traits omen, pioneer
Skills Bluff -1, Diplomacy -1, Disguise -1, Handle Animal +1, Heal +5, Intimidate +8, Perception +7, Ride +1, Spellcraft +6 (+8 to determine the properties of a magic item), Use Magic Device +3; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception
Languages Common, Draconic, Elven, Sylvan
SQ elven magic, mysteries (mystery [time]), revelations (erase from time, natural divination), weapon familiarity
Other Gear hide armor, javelin (5), spear, belt pouch, light horse, backpack, bedroll, bit and bridle, blanket, candle, feed (per day), flint and steel, mess kit, pot, riding saddle, hemp rope (50 ft.), saddlebags, soap, tent, small, trail rations, waterskin, 102 gp, 8 sp, 5 cp
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Special Abilities
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Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Elven Magic +2 to spellcraft checks to determine the properties of a magic item.
Erase from Time (1 rds, 1/day, DC 13) (Su) As a melee touch attack, you can temporarily remove a creature from time altogether. The target creature must make a Fortitude save or vanish completely for a number of rounds equal to 1/2 your oracle level (minimum 1 round). No magic or divinations
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Natural Divination (1/day) (Su) You can gain a bonus to a save, skill check, or initiative roll which must be used within 24h.
Omen (1/day) As a swift action, Demoralize an opponent.
Wasting +4 competence bonus to save vs. Disease
- Whisper, (Horse from Pioneer trait):Whisper
Horse
N Large animal
Init +2; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6
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Defense
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AC 11, touch 11, flat-footed 9 (+2 Dex, -1 size)
hp 15 (2d8+6)
Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +1
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Offense
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Speed 50 ft.
Melee 2 hooves -2 (1d4+1) and
. . unarmed strike +3 (1d4+3 nonlethal)
Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 14, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 7
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 17 (21 vs. trip)
Feats Endurance, Run
Tricks Come, Heel, Riding, Stay
Skills Acrobatics +2 (+6 to jump with a running start), Perception +6
SQ riding
Other Gear backpack, bedroll, bit and bridle, blanket, candle (10), feed (per day) (5), flint and steel, mess kit, pot, riding saddle, hemp rope (50 ft.), saddlebags, soap, tent, small, trail rations (5), waterskin
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Special Abilities
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Endurance +4 to a variety of fort saves, skill and ability checks. Sleep in L/M armor with no fatigue.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Riding [Trick] The animal has been trained to bear a rider.
Run Run 5x your speed in light/medium armor or 4x speed in heavy armor and keep Dex when running.
Scent (Ex) Detect opponents within 15+ feet by sense of smell.
- Description:Many would say Durielle is pretty, but mostly "the many" are humans who always see beauty in elvenkind. Durielle is tall and waifish. Her complexion has always been fair, and her hair is like golden gossamer thread. Her features are delicate like porcelain, and no few are the village women who regard Durielle with jealous eyes as she never seems to age or gain the tanned and toughened skin of a peasant. It was if time itself has simply stopped for her...
- Background:Durielle Omenstar was born in a human village called Plainsend. As one would expect of such a village, the majority of its population are humans with a smattering of halfling and gnomish farms in the surrounding countryside and a single dwarven merchant ensconced firmly in the heart of the few buildings at the village center.
Her birth was unusual. An elven woman stumbled into the village late one night; her belly swollen with child. Wounded and feverish, she mumbled of some great calamity to come and that only her daughter would save those afflicted. The kind villagers put her to bed and attempted to nurse her, yet it was too late. A midwife was summoned and with her last strength, the unnamed elven woman gave birth to her pale daughter, and named her Durielle with her dying breath. Now this night was no ordinary night as it was the observance of the Omenstar Vigil, celebrated with meditation and reflection of the times to come. With no other family name, Durielle was bestowed the surname Omenstar, and she was raised amongst the villagers as one of them.
Of course, never was she fully one of them even as she showed naught but kindness and diligent work. The superstition of her birth led the village elders to believe that a time would come when Durielle would save them all as prophesied by the girl's own mother. For three generations has Durielle lived in Plainsend surrounded by those who believe they need her, yet she is forever alone amongst the only family she has ever known.
Durielle has always known there is something waiting for her to leave the village. A mysterious power which sings a siren's call and seems to become more impatient as the years pass into memory. Her dreams show her visions of places far distant the like of which she has never seen nor dreamt. She feels the pull of years to come and memories yet made. It's almost as if Durielle can see her own footsteps on the road when she stares down its length fading into the distance. But she turns her back. Hasn't she been told Plainsend needs her here? No, to stay and ensure the village lives is her purpose. It must be...
- Desired kingdom role:Seer Oracle or Court Advisor or Mother
- Roleplay Example:Veros' deathrattle was the most terrible thing Durielle had ever heard. She wouldn't have been able to stop the tears if she tried, but she had no reason to do so. She sobbed onto the still warm chest of his wasted form, merely a shell of the strong half-elven man he had been in life.
What a fool she had been to think she would have found love and been able to live her long life with another. The dreams had been telling her all along she must leave Plainsend, but she hadn't listened. So many now, so many had fallen ill from the unknown plague which had swept through town. A plague from which she is immune. Wasting away, the villagers cried out for her to save them as it was foretold. The calamitous plague had come. The Omenstar's Promise had finally been kept.
Veros had been a herald come from Restov to announce the desire of the Swordlords for an expedition into the Stolen Lands. Durielle's heart had skipped a beat from the moment they said hello. She had smiled at him more than she had ever found herself doing in decades. Following a wonderful walk at sunset, Durielle had returned home to the dreams. The dreams which had never been this clear before. Dreams of Plainsend dead to the last animal, and only the broken form of an unaged elf wandering the cursed ruins.
Durielle woke with a start. Her tears long since dried, her head and arms still lay upon the corpse of the comely Veros whom she had known for only a few blissful months. She finally understood what she had to do. Inside her heart raged and pleaded that this could not be the answer, but as she packed her few meager belongings, she could feel...something...holding its breath as if a moment it had long awaited had finally arrived. Durielle saddled her beautiful mare Whisper and slowly began the trek out of the town.
What few villagers had the strength to stand called out to her in disbelief as she abandoned them, their cries despairing and cutting her heart to ribbons. Durielle forced herself to ignore them as fresh tears began to make new tracks down her pale cheeks. Instead she forced herself to look ahead...no, she looked ahead and saw herself miles and miles from here, surrounded by people she didn't know...but in fact she did know.
"I will know..." she said as realization finally came to her of just what the strange feelings she experienced through her life had been trying to tell her.
Her voice was a hoarse whisper in her own ears. Saying it out loud broke something in her. As Whisper moved forward, Durielle suddenly felt all the years of her past crash into her from behind even as the future collided in the front. She screamed as the answers to life and knowledge swirled across her vision only to fade into the haze of half-forgotten memories like early childhood. Once again she saw herself wandering the desolate ruins of a Plainsend to which she had tried so desperately to cling. But now she also saw a Plainsend larger than ever, flourishing and full of contented people...without her. Because she left.
For the first time Durielle intentionally looked forward for herself. For the Durielle of a different moment. And she succeeded. She saw a wasted and wan elven woman being handed a piece of paper giving authority to explore (or die) in the names of the Swordlords. Durielle gasped even as she recognized herself and that there she was taking the charter her now lost love Veros had come to proclaim.
The gasp turned into a wet cough, and Durielle was happy she was not mounted. She was on her hands and knees in the road. When...? Durielle felt dizzy and disoriented and looked around wildly. None of the terrain was familiar. Judging by the stars above she had traveled many miles from home. Looking into the past, she could feel the strength of the villagers returning. For every step she had taken, they healed their ailment. The prophecy had come true. A plague had come from which only she could save them. A plague that had only come because she had failed to listen.
Whisper nuzzled her head, and the touch on her feverish skin was like fire. Durielle spat bloody phlegm of The Omenstar's Promise into the dust. Dazed, she looked down upon the pattern the blood had made. In a language she couldn't explain she knew how to read, the blood spelled:
Durielle looked back into the dust of the road towards her former home. The past was unforgiving in its mute accusation. She struggled to her feet with the help of Whisper's stirrup and saddlery. Her sickly breathing was labored, but she knew it would pass. The marks of the Omenstar's Promise would not fade but neither would she be counted amongst its victims.
"I will not fail you," Durielle promised the future. "I will not again attempt to stem the tide of destiny. Instead, I shall call it to me, and Fate will be my champion."
The road to the Stolen Lands was long, but no longer than the past that haunted her, nor the years of future Durielle now saw ahead.
@ Inneliese, I rather not play a swashbuckler because it already starts with two 'interrupt' abilities at level one. From experience I know that such abilities are the bane of pbp games. Get attacked? First resolve the interrupt with a 5ft step and a boost to AC. Or alternatively, try to parry it. I'll go back to the drawing table, stick to hardcover material and most likely, present you a hunter later today.
And thanks for the feedback. I'm a bit spoiled thanks to playing PF with a group that owns every book. Literally every single Paizo book. Old men need to spend their money on something *chuckles*
I'd like to think that's a good thing for everyone. Ideally, even people who don't get selected can improve their characters for the next campaign they submit to.
Hmm! ^^ I think it's going to be a pleasure playing with someone with your gaming ethics.
Crellan - My apologies, but no. I've decided it's not in my best interest to start allowing archetypes from books I don't own. (And which my FLGS doesn't even have in stock.) I agree that it's a very flavourful archetype for this AP, but as I told another player privately, I've seen recruitment threads devolve into goblin kensai submissions once exceptions were made.
And... just perusing some of the entries so far, I'm going to have my work cut out for me it seems.
Description:
Kira has dark hair that she keeps at shoulder length, blue eyes and dresses in light clothing to allow her free movement for her dancing.
Combat Role:
In Combat Kira keeps enemies at a distance While providing her allies with buffs and information.
Leadership Role:
Kira Would Fit the roles of Councilor or Grand Diplomat well, I also plan to take Craft Wondrous item at level 3 so she can help the party that way as well.
Kira was born in a small lake side village were she grew up, her father was the fisher of the town and she would often join him on his outings but she was a woman of many hobbies.
From fishing, exploring, reading, dancing; Kira never seemed to be happy with doing just one thing. Kira slowly began to tire of her home, having explored every where close, read the books they had to offer
she often wondered if she would be stuck in the town forever. One day a stranger from the church of Iomedae came into her town with tales of the lost lands, Kira saw this as the key to her new adventure.
How did the character become trained in their current class/profession? Kira first learned the art of dancing with magic from a group of gypsies that came to her town for a short time, she has since been self training.
Why did the character choose to become an adventurer? Kira seeks adventure away from her growing boredom of her small town.
What brought the character to Restov? Kira followed Ary on her mission into the lost lands.
Why did the character accept the Swordlords' charter? Kira heard about the exploration into the lost lands and jumped on the chance to start her own legacy.
In Character Sample:
Kira sat on the edge of the lake her eyelids slowly rising and falling as she fought off the urge to sleep, the fishing pole in her hand gave a slight tug which snapped her back to the real world, she pulled back in attempt to hook whatever had risked her bait. Her attempt was met with an empty hook flying out of the water, she grumbled as she packed up her gear. "Waste of a day." She began the short trek back to town after nothing but one missed bite during fishing she was getting bored again, it seemed to happen faster and faster every day the town just becoming more part of her daily schedule than an adventure to explore, she wished for something new, something exciting to happen to bring a little more light back to her life.
Oh, and it occurs to me that I could probably point out a chart comparing various groups in Brevoy to counterparts from A Game of Thrones/A Song of Fire and Ice:
House Garess - The Lannisters.
House Lebeda - The Tyrells.
House Lodovka - The Greyjoys.
House Medvyed - The Starks.
House Orlovsky - The Arryns.
House Rogarvia (missing) - The Targaryens.
House Surtova - The Baratheons.
The Swordlords of Restov are rather interesting, since the Great House they most resemble is the Martells, but they're really more equivalent to Bravos, with the Aldori duelling style equating to the Water Dance. Note that Restov does not have a secret society of shapechanging assassins, and that anyone who claims otherwise is likely to disappear under mysterious circumstances. Also, no Iron Bank, as Restov is too geographically isolated from the rest of Avistan to serve such a purpose.
Aheheheh... After reading the first book of Song of Ice & Fire, that comparison-chart tells me one thing: don't get involved with the current aristocracy any more than we strictly have to... :p
Very interested :3
Probably gonna submit a Fey blooded human Bloodrager (don't know whether to pick Spelleater or Untouchable for an archetype).
Yeah, once you start looking closely at it it becomes very obvious that Brevoy is a massive shout out to ASoIaF. The old rulers were even a group of outsiders that came out of nowhere and took over by capitalizing on Dragons.
- Paza, with your background I'm not sure that staying out of it is a choice you have.
Unless the character -chooses- to ignore the ties. Anyone can come calling on family for help, but where were -they- when -everything- in her past happened? :P
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Oh my, and I picked the 'Bastard of House Medvyed' trait. It was great knowing you, dad! *laughs*
It's not the family you have to worry about, it's... let's call them mom and dad's old drinking buddies that could cause problems.
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Paza - It also helps if you know how things went down when the Targaryens were deposed, which the TV show doesn't go as much in detail with as the books do. House Surtova might superficially look more like the Lannisters, with a brother-sister pair holding the throne and accused by many of preferring each other's company over that of suitors... but House Garess controls all the most valuable mines in Brevoy, making them quite wealthy, and they tend to wait until they're sure who's going to win before throwing in with that side... much like the Lannisters waited until it was clear the Starks and Baratheons would prevail over the Targaryens before marching on King's Landing.
Similarly, the Surtovas are a large family, and have to continue holding their ancestral lands, the capital at New Stetven, and a token effort needs to be made at stewardship over the lands once held by House Rogarvia, though the Swordlords of Restov are also attempting to do that.
And you're probably right that getting involved with any of them isn't going to be a good thing... but by the same token, not getting involved could be even worse. Accepting the Swordlords' charter means you're already all knee-deep in the Brevic political scene whether you want to be or not, and if you form a new kingdom, well... what's your Grand Diplomat going to do if you refuse to have diplomatic ties to the nearest other kingdom? For better or worse, you're stuck with these people, unless you decide to become murder-hobos and kill them all.
Not to spoil any hopes, but this AP doesn't have a lot to do with Brevoian (Brevin? Brevovian? Brevos? Just Brevoy?) politics.
Just mentioning it so any future candidates don't build and RP their characters with GoT-esque notions in mind. ;-)
@GM views on wreck?
=^^=
- Paza, with your background I'm not sure that staying out of it is a choice you have.
Heh heh, I can dream. ^^ And it'll be fun trying!
Unless the character -chooses- to ignore the ties. Anyone can come calling on family for help, but where were -they- when -everything- in her past happened? :P
That will be interesting to find out, won't it? Besides, Paza does not even know that she's a Rogarvia at this point. And when she finds out, it will probably not mean as much to her as it does to the people around her.
'My blood was top pack of the realm? ... Hmph. They left prime territory. Shameful.'Paza - It also helps if you know how things went down when the Targaryens were deposed, which the TV show doesn't go as much in detail with as the books do.
Oh, I only read the first book -- and bits of wikipedia -- on the subject. I've never seen the TV-show, save for little bits on Youtube. I know... a bit... about the fall of House Targaryen.
And you're probably right that getting involved with any of them isn't going to be a good thing... but by the same token, not getting involved could be even worse. Accepting the Swordlords' charter means you're already all knee-deep in the Brevic political scene whether you want to be or not, and if you form a new kingdom, well... what's your Grand Diplomat going to do if you refuse to have diplomatic ties to the nearest other kingdom? For better or worse, you're stuck with these people, unless you decide to become murder-hobos and kill them all.
*chuckles* Well, I've never been fond of murder-hobos. If selected for gameplay, Paza will probably treat the noble houses the way she might a powerful wolf-pack in a neighbouring territory; hackles raised, ready to fight if they attack, but not openly hostile. ^^
pinvendor - That's actually something I feel the AP dropped the ball on, since the first book actually played up Brevic politics quite a bit as well. But that's just fine, because the last book has a great section on what to do after the BBEG, and two of the options tie back into the events in Brevoy. Since each GM has plenty of room to customize the AP according to their own tastes, I certainly want to keep Brevoy having an active role in things.
Seth86 - 9/12, but still missing some vital submission components.
What do I need :)
If there is any AP which lends itself to having a lot of extras thrown in on top of the written work, it's KM. :-)
I really hope I get selected. I suspect your game will be very enjoyable.
RPG Superstar 2009 Top 32
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Interested in joining this one. :) I'm trying to come up with a full concept by tomorrow. Roughly, I'm going after a half-orc ranger (2 weapon style), a reformed bandit. She would fit the warden or executioner slot well. General or Marshal should be possible, though a less easy fit.
Are you still looking for people ?
Also, what do you currently have ?
Mokshai - There's still most of three days left in initial recruitment, and nobody is locked in. Submit whatever character you would most enjoy playing as. I'm not going to turn an excellent application down just because it would mean the group having two (or even three) healers. That's why I gave myself the leeway of taking 4-6 characters. I want to make sure the group is somewhat balanced, but at the end of the day, I'd rather take 6 excellent characters of the same class than one excellent character and three good-to-mediocre ones of different classes.
Arie here. Have yet to finish his background, but the crunch and the basic fluff are present in Arnulf's profile. Hopefully Paizo isn't changing the hunter too much in the soon to be released ACG :)
Role: melee support with a sturdy companion, a broad set of skills and limited spellcasting abilities.
Kingdom role: marshall, general, royal enforcer or warden.
Now it's sleepy time.
Hmm... Thinking a human paladin who would fit a general role for sure, but the possibility of rule as well, though he wouldn't intend on that role lol. I'll have him up soon.
Probably as good a time as any to post a list of applicants:
Martial
Ary Bishop LG Human F Ranger
Lucius Baradain NG Human M Fighter
Malak Niitei N Half-Orc M Ranger
Lothar von Junigar NG Human M Fighter (Swordlord)
Ralph Flannigan CN Human M Slayer
Wreck NG Half-Orc M Fighter
Sikandir NG Human (Garundi) M Cavalier
Divine
Durielle Omenstar CG Elven F Oracle of Time (Seer)
Arcane
Skilled
Bartholomew Grimtongue CG Gnome M Bard
Quellina Esstanov LN Human F Inquisitor of Tanagaar
Ahto Uhlrych LN Human M Inquisitor (Sin Eater) of Abadar
Kira Holt CG Human F Bard
Forgive me if I missed anyone.
Anyway, at a quick glance we're clearly lacking in the Arcane department and pretty thin in the purely divine, which has me re-thinking my character submission... decisions, decisions.
^^ is missing Paza the Druid.
List is missing me, the summoner (master summoner)
so just a question in regards to pre game mundane item creation ?
are you going to allow it ?
Thinking forgemaster
Avaru isn't finished yet, but he'd probably fit in Arcane (well, maybe more in Martial, but he casts spells).
dot. Will make character soon.
Kyle here with Altain, a paladin of Iomeade. Kind of a cliche build, I know, but I like his concept of what I have roughly planned for him. Granted he needs his background (tomorrow), his roles would best be suited as a General, then potentially a ruler. Although that's dependent on game play of course. Anyways, here's http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=986724 and I'll have everything else for you tomorrow. I just need sleep right now is all lol.
Here is my character! I HAD a backstory, appearance, and RP sample, but Paizo decided that it looked yummy so it ate it. Ill re-write it tomorrow. sighs An hour and a half down the drain. XD
-Whispers
The bards could be considered arcane as well as skilled. A more important breakdown for this AP would be by eventual role in the kingdom.
Arnulf is a hunter and hunters are .. martial casters with a solid companion and a decent enough skill list?! *laughs*
I am looking for a new campaign as the long running ones I have been a part of are winding down or abruptly stopped due to DM having RL conflicts.
I just came across your thread. I would love to play a cleric or a rogue if the group needs one, but I am willing to play whatever because I just want to be in an active game.
I have never abandoned a pbp game and I often post several times a day if the thread is hot.
Just got a Charter, hoping to tag along with this bunch...
A shock of bright orange hair that blends perfectly into an equally bristled beard matches the flaming orange eyes of the diminutive figure. Standing just over three feet with a slight frame, the gnome obviously cares about his appearance, with well-tailored, brightly colored clothing clashing in a disarmingly complementary manner. The lines on his youthful face seem given to wide grins, and his flame-colored eyebrows are set a little high on his forehead giving him a look of innocent wonder.
"...while your penchant for parlor tricks is quite impressive, it hardly the sort of study that merits the investment of time and resources that the Academy must devote to a student. Worse, on several occasions you apparently manipulated the testing on basic skills through the use of phantasm and glamour. The lack of integrity is nearly as disturbing as the possibility that you have failed to master basic skills and masked your shortcomings through magical trickery. Several professors spoke strongly for your original admittal due to your supposed potential, however you have simply affirmed my original view that gnomes simply lack the temperament for serious study. It is for these reasons that this writing serves to formally and retroactively revoke your initial admission to the Academy. Your tuition is refunded under the agreement are prohibited from using the name of this institution as a reference regarding what magical skill you may have gleaned here...”
Gelliglee smirked wryly as he read the Letter of Dismissal again, folding it and returning to its place as his favorite bookmark in his spellbook. Reading it always cheered him up. If the dottering old fool couldn’t appreciate the value of a few olfactory illusions during an examination graded on a curve, well he deserves to be stuck at the Most Boringest Place In Golarian.
The cart bumped comfortably beneath him, pearched languidly on top of the bales of wool. I got the training I needed and my money back to boot! Admittedly, they are excellent at fundamental theory, but not one student had the imagination to think what could be DONE with what they were learning. Casting the same incantation over and over and over and over and over.... An involuntary shiver ran down his spine.
The old dottering stiff-necks don’t realize that perception is reality. The whole foundation of knowledge comes from what a being gleans through their senses and store in its memories... If one can manipulate that perception, they manipulate the only reality that mind can perceive... If ‘knowledge is power’ as they so liked to say, why could they not see that perception is what creates knowledge.
Of course, he had left with more than just knowledge and the market for rare reagents had turned out as promising as he thought it might, setting him up well to seek further fortune. ”Well, they should’ve kept better track of what they left in the care of an obviously ‘unqualified and disreputable Riverland gnome’ such as myself.... Well, I guess I have to admit he was right about that one.” The gnome’s grin widened. Between the tuition refund and the extra gold from the sold reagents, he could outfit himself quite well for the adventures ahead... and hopefully the Swordlords themselves would add their patronage.
Hoy the cart! the call came from over the bale he was resting on. The gnome looked up, squinting into the sun as he saw they were approaching the gates to the Free City. He crawled over the bale and plopped down on the bench next to the sheep farmer who had brought him along for five copper. ”So this is the place they’re gathering to tame the southern wilds eh?” Gilliglee asked the farmer.
[b]”Ye’re the one who told me 'bout that when ye asked for a lift? Wot do I know ‘bout it?” the wide faced woman responded with a grin. They’d be together a week and she’d gotten used to the gnomes antics. The guard poked around the bales with a stick before waiving them through. b]“Well, ye’re here now, I reckon... and ye made the trip a little less boring for that. Good luck with yer charter, though I don’t see how ye’ll be driving out any bandits!”[/b]
”Well, we’ll have to see how that works out then, good luck at the market!” the gnome replied as he handed over the five coppers. The farmer bit one, nodded and waved as the gnome jumped to the ground. It is all a matter appearances., the gnome thought as he walked towards a group of guards.
People believe what they perceive and make conclusions based upon assumptions... She saw a young gnome off an a foolhardy adventure likely to get him spit on an arrow or hung from a tree. I foresee ample opportunity for a skilled young wizard to learn though application. Repeating a spell a hundred times won’t teach you any more about the spell than you already know... but use it in the field under creative applications and you are truly developing your craft.
As soon as he left the Academy, the gnome heard of the Charters and knew where he could develop his skills the way he craved, by direct application in a stressful environment. That is how one truly learned. ”And if I end up doing something worthwhile at the same time, while showing those foolish puritans at the Academy what I am capable of... all the better. There is so much to see, after all... So many places to go and so much to learn.” And so Gelliglee Gearwander slung his pack over his shoulder and walked into Restov proper, looking to see what the world held in store.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was almost a week before he was able to arrange to apply for a charter, but eventually he found himself standing before a rather tall distinguished looking human who was supposedly the Lord Mayer. Of course, most humans looked tall and many looked distinguished to Gelliglee, but with all the guards, pomp, and circumstance there was little reason to doubt that this was Ioseph Sellemus.
The man was scowling a bit looking from the parchment to Gelliglee as if finding something difficult to put together. ”So you application says you are an Academy-trained wizard and it appears you are recommended by the Magister of the Academy himself? I suppose that a wizard could add much to an expedition... but are you certain that you are up for a responsibility of this... hmm.. stature?” Quite ripples of polite laughter erupted from the Lord Mayor’s lackeys, and Gelliglee himself chuckled.
Maintaining the smile the gnome bowed deeply saying, “M’lord, my stature would surely be a problem if it were a sword arm that I would be lending to the venture. However, it is a sharpness of mind that I bring bear, and the Art of magic which doesn’t account for the size of a person. However, if you wish a mage of taller stature, I would surely oblige.” Reaching into his pouch, the gnome nimbly withdrew a pinch of iron and threw it into the air above himself with a flourish, executing several gestures with practice ease while uttering the words of power in a forceful tone.
In an instant, the gnome stood well over six foot in stature able to look eye to eye with the Lord Mayor. The over-sized gnome continued in a voice deepened by magic, ”Let me assure you Lord Mayor. If the Magister of the Academy himself were here to make a recommendation to you, there would be no student of the academy that he would rather see venture forth into the Greenbelt than I.” The gnome smiled to himself, And that is the absolute truth.... Continuing, Gelliglee added, ”For your own thoughts, M’lord, I would consider that the Greenbelt is known to be populated by fey... who better to deal with them than an Academy-trained gnome, possessing equal powers of glamour and magic?“ The gnome then concentrated for a moment before suddenly returning to his normal diminutive form. ”And I assure you M’ord, I will be but little burden to my companions.”
As he saw the dismissive shrug and slight nod from the Lord Mayor, Gelliglee knew that he would receive his Charter. Of course, he underestimates me... but that is a common thing among Humans. Dismiss the little-folk and forget that physical stature has little to do with capability, especially in a mage. Either way, the adventure begins... Who knows, someday I may end up bing Magister! Or, lets face it... more likely Spymaster.
Okay Inneliese, here you go. I just need to update some of his stats to fit your criteria at this point. Also, while I can guarantee a post a day, more frequent posting may not be easy for me on a regular basis, to be honest.
The faint sound of hooves beating upon the dirt road grows louder. Approaching from the north, a cloaked horseman trots at a modest pace towards you. A staff rests upon his lap, and several packed bags ostensibly contain a fair collection of goods.
The hooded rider gradually slows his andalusian's pace to a halt as he nears you. The horse's dusty black shins and flaring black nostrils provide sharp contrast to its otherwise white body.
Gently patting the tired horse's neck, he glances around at the sky, the earth, the forest to the west. Silently, the man in shades of tan and brown observes and listens. Removing his cloak's hood, the rider reveals himself to be half-elven, obvious from the combination of his distinguishing ears and thin black goatee. His head turns towards you. Soulful and intelligent eyes of dark brown make meaningful contact with yours. Bearing a calm, warm visage, he greets you with a slight bow, hand respectfully held over his chest.
"Hail, friend. Aldarion, at your service."
1. How did the character become trained in their current class/profession?
2. Why did the character choose to become an adventurer?
3. What brought the character to Restov?
4. Why did the character accept the Swordlords' charter?
Born from the union of elven maiden and man, Aldarion (though this was not his name yet) grew up in the outskirts of Restov, in rural Rostland. A creative gardener for wealthy merchants in town, his father instilled in him a sense of spirited optimism amidst a troubled world. An herbalist and healer by trade, his enchanting mother bestowed in him his inner serenity and love of nature.
But he did not come to his wisdom until later in life, for his childhood involves a traumatic event. He and three of his young friends decided to sneak a peek inside the harem of a traveling northern prince on one occasion. But they were spotted, and only Aldarion escaped. The other three boys were punished most severely, killed by the merciless prince himself.
This encounter with the horrors and injustices of life at such a young age rapidly matured Aldarion. He began to question everything in life, including himself and his own motivations. He struggled with bitterness and vengefulness, then sank deep into depression, most especially after his human father died when he reached the young age of 20.
Aldarion left his home, leaving his saddened mother's care in the hands of his older elven step-sister. He traveled far and wide, on a quest to seek esoteric and existential wisdom. On this inward journey, he met the love of his life. A very beautiful, wise, intelligent, and mystical older woman, she inspired the half-elven seeker on his spiritual life path. She also educated him, fostering his natural intellectual abilities and granting him an exceptional vocabulary for his station in life. For a while, the two loved each other deeply. Blissful, he studied esoteric philosophy and natural magic with her for two decades, gaining in wisdom and inner serenity... until her premature death.
And the world left him cold once more.
He moved to the Narlmarches, the woodlands south of Rostland in the Stolen Lands, where he sought to escape the world. Enduring the increasing threat of banditry did not help as he sunk back down to even deeper depths of bitterness and despair. Until one day, he encountered a grove of migrating treants. Astounded and in awe of their majesty, he felt called to be among them and befriended them. In time, he was invited to take part in their weeklong outings, and found learning and speaking their language surprisingly meditative and calming. They would go on to teach the seeker a very ancient and special "treeish" lineage of druidry. The treants honored him with a new name, Aldarion (meaning "son of the trees" in old Elvish), and he has since endeavored to one day be able to shape himself into treant form.
At long last, Aldarion finally got it. He got what he had been seeking all along. He found inner balance and serenity. He could live in the world, but not be of it. Detached from his thoughts and passions, he was in control of himself and his life, and felt a power grow inside of him like no ordinary sense of the term "power."
Looking on the trades of his parents with new eyes, he lived on as a hermit and sage, but also rekindled his love of gardening and growing herbs in between his meditations... and as a form of meditation in itself. He began to attract a small stream of visitors and followers from Rostland to his very humble abode in the woodlands, whom he put to work in his gardens while teaching them to find inner peace. Seekers of miraculous healings formed the vast bulk of his guests however, who in turn grew his reputation and fame as a miracle healer.
One recent guest, however, would be responsible for sending him his charge from a veritable swordlord. Accustomed to barter rather than trade, he was given an andalusian horse in exchange for one particular healing from a wealthy patient. That patient, he would learn later, was the son of the powerful Lady Jamandi Aldori. On receiving an audience with her, the now middle-aged sage accepted her charge to join the Greenbelt agents.
Aldarion left his little hermitage and beautiful garden refuge in the care of his apprentice, a young but mature physician and healer, in order to carry out his charge in the Stolen Lands.
The stiff-lipped clerk to Lady Jamandi Aldori wrinkles his nose as the curious mixed scent of horse, hay, and gods know what else wafts into his nostrils. Frowning, he looks up above his low-hanging spectacles to spot a peasant in brown and tan robes just standing there, smiling enigmatically back at him.
"I dare say," the clerk condescends to him, "have you come to Lady Aldori's manse from a barnyard?" Fretting and pointing at him now, " And... and... dressed... like that?"
The cloaked man simply maintains his slight smile.
"Please show the honorable sage in Mr. Gronsky." The sound of his boss's ticked-off voice, from beyond the open door to his rear, provokes a change in the old man's demeanor.
"Hmpf, very well good Lady, very well." The clerk huffs, "The Lady Jamandi Aldori will see you now."
Inside, the sage bows politely and embraces the Lady Aldori's extended forearm with his own, "Greetings, Lady Aldori. Aldarion, at your service."
As the sage seats himself at her request, he appears rather still, serene even. "I thank you kindly. But no apology is necessary, Lady Aldori. I took no offense."
Remaining relaxed, the half-elven man's brows nonetheless furrow as he listens intently to the Swordlord go on about a charter to explore the Greenbelt and secure it from rampant banditry. He caresses his goatee at one point.
The sage breaks his silence after she finishes her speech. "Lady Aldori, I am honored. But, why me? I'm not a famous hero. I am but a simple gardener, herbalist, and teacher of esoteric wisdom..."
The Lady drops her political suave for a moment. Sincerity and gratefulness enter into his eyes, "You saved a boy's life not long ago. He was dying, but you saved him. Narsius is his name... and he is my son."
The sage blinks twice in recognition. "It makes my heart glad to know that I have prevented such an unfathomable tragedy in your life, but..."
She interrupts him, "Where the agents go will be fraught with perils. You know better than I, having lived in the Stolen Lands. Have you never been burglarized sir?"
Aldarion recollects a few incidences and nods, "Indeed. I have noticed worsening conditions in the Narlmarches. I would like to help, but I am no warrior or great magician..."
She interrupts him again, "You are too humble, Aldarion. You performed nothing short of a miracle with my son. And I'm not interested in your skill with the sword or your ability to cast powerful magic. We already have a team assembled to handle those roles. But... they are young and inexperienced. What they need from you is your guidance, founded on your lifetime of experience and reason. You also offer a familiarity with unfamiliar lands. And perhaps most of all," she picks up a painted portrait of her son, "your ability to prevent the party from being killed by some wild disease or poison."
Now the two understand each other perfectly. Nodding gently, Aldarion speaks, "I understand, good Lady. I accept this charge, and I shall endeavor to uphold this duty to the best of my ability."
Aldarion's age, experience, and wisdom (+4 mod), coupled by his clever and charming personality, would make him a great fit for the role of Councilor. He could also do quite well as Viceroy, particularly in a more rural part of the fledgling kingdom where there are woodlands to protect (he's a treesinger, after all).
Alternatively, I could maybe see him as High Priest, but only if the nation gravitates towards the Green Faith of its own accord. Even at best though, this would not be a very comfortable fit. Aldarion is not really a religious man in the conventional sense. He's much more of a hermit or nature mystic, far more inclined to meditate and practice his religion privately than to administer a state religion.
Edit: Some drawings of Aldarion and his horse, Besoneth (aka Bessy). Though Aldarion's face and goatee are a bit thinner than in this portrait, otherwise it's a good match. I know it is a portrait of Obi Wan, but he does look a bit like him (similar clothing too). Aldarion's kinda Daoist in personality too, so it's a good fit all around. :)