Legacy of Fire: Upon Shifting Sand (Inactive)

Game Master Vanulf Wulfson

Hurom Ullah is a child of the desert. Born to half-elf merchants newly arrived in Katapesh, his family soon moved to Selkelhas on the edge to the Katapeshi deserts. From a young age, he showed an aptitude in navigating the oppressive heat and shifting sands of the desert, and he often would disappear for weeks at a time on solitary sojourns into the wastes. As a young man, he gained employment guiding the merchant caravans common to the region on their circular routes to and from great Katapesh itself.

His talents for pathfinding soon caught the eye of a factor of one of the merchant guilds of Katapesh. He was recommended to the Zephyr Guard and soon found himself scouting for Guard parties and merchant guild mercenaries policing the lucrative pesh trade. The Zephyr Guard and their Packmasters patrons had a keen interest in monitoring the goings-on in the desert lands where pesh was grown, intercepting illegitimate cargoes and torching unauthorized farms. Not violent by nature, the relentless pace of raids, the tracking of guild fugitives, and the bloody work of rooting out desert troublemakers soon began to wear on Hurom. Sullen and withdrawn by nature, the grind did no favors to his already pessimistic view of human nature. After a particularly violent mercenary raid in which the commander ordered three entire families put to the sword, he resigned his brevet commission with the Guard, forswore future mercenary work, and cursed the Packmasters who seemed at best oblivious and at worst approving of the dark side of the pesh trade.

He withdrew to a family holding at Tiven's Reed to walk the badlands and contemplate his future. Soon bored with the monotony and with no interest in joining his family's business dealings, he returned to Katapesh to seek new work as a desert guide. He found the reception chilly; he had apparently been blacklisted by the merchant guilds that run the city for "breach of contract" and was unable to find work. At the end of his wits, one day he overhears talk of a village named Kelmarane....

At turns solemn and taciturn, Huram's recent work on behalf of Katapesh's merchant guilds and as a sometimes agent of the Pactmasters has left him feeling even more disconnected from human society than normal. Although he always rebuffed his parents' effort to get him to connect, to the human society in which he lived, or with the elven legacy of his past, deep within Hurom does feel the need for acceptance, to be part of a group and working towards a common end.

Lonely but not lonesome, this desire is what drove him to start helping caravans navigate the sands of the Katapeshi deserts, and often looks back fondly at those days, when as a lad he was among the most valued of the caravans' traveling companions. In his socially halting way, he is looking for another such shared experience. He has never had a close friends, and no companions he would call lovers. But, when entrenched as part of a group, be it hapless caravaneers or cold-blooded Katapesh mercenaries, he will struggle to his body's limits to achieve their shared goals.

Regardless, he lives by his own code, and has done some things he is not proud of. Only with much prompting will he speak of his past work as a agent of the Katapesh authorities. His love of the desert extends beyond his skills as a guide. He enjoys the ebb and flow of the dessert tribes' music, the taste of their cooking, and rhythms of a night's camp under the stars. Some might call him a gentle soul, but he has always show the ability to lock down such emotions in favor of a brutal pragmatism toward his work.

Hurom stands tall and thick, and the desert sun has beaten a ruddy complexion into his naturally fair features. Long in the face, with light brown hair pulled straight back and cut short, his slate-gray eyes center a face rarely given to smiles or grins. The faint mark of a tribal-tattoo, one of his mother's bright ideas to help encourage him to him "reconnect" with his elven heritage, runs down the left side of his face and is now mostly a faded black.

Ashad is a rugged young man, standing roughly five foot ten. Having inherited his father's olive skin tone and his mother's dusty brown hair, the paladin cuts a rather handsome image. Wearing that dusty hair down to the nap of his neck, Ashad keeps his facial hair cut into a neat thin trimming that lines his jawline and ends in a formal goatee'. Covered in light tan and darker brown studded leathers, draped across a simple breast plate, Ashad's tell-tale blue turban clearly marks him as a native.

Ashad is a humble man. From brutal beginnings to holy conventions, he has kept his mother's first teaching to heart. "Live your life with kindness and honesty". Ashad always carries a warm smile upon his face, and an uplifting parable in his heart. He will strike up a conversation with anyone, from the poorest vagabond to the richest merchant prince. His kindness is truly worn upon his sleeve. However, when he is pressed into battle or confronted with those possessed of wicked hearts, Ashad is a fearsome opponent. He does, however, have a soft spot for women, and is reluctant to attack such opponents headon.

Born into slavery the man that would one day become Ashad al'Ahir had a bitter beginning. The son of a rich merchant and his slave mistress, Ashad would never know the luxuries his father's position could have afforded him. Forsaken by the merchant to avoid scandel, Ashad was left to be raised by his mother and the shackles of slavery.

For years the boy would waste away as a stableboy. Hidden from view by his suspicious master, the boy's only solace was found in his mother. A practioner of the Saerene faith, Ashad's mother instilled in him a strong sense of honesty and compassion. She used her faith to give her young son hope. Despite his harsh and bitter upbringing, Ashad would take these lessons to his grave.

A decade of the slave whip saw to it that the young boy would grow into a strong and resilient young man. However with age came a change of apperance. Now, more than ever, Ashad began to resemble his father. The rich merchant, having married into royality, felt the pressures of what could happen if his infedilty was discovered. Driven by fear and greed, the merchant finally had his old mistress forever silenced. But despite all this, he couldn't bring himself to kill his own flesh and blood. So instead, he sold him to the next caravan leaving Katapesh. Ashad left the only home he'd ever known, not evening learning of his mother's death.

Two weeks into their desert voyage, Ashad's life would change once more- with finality. On a clear and starry evening, not far from their destination, the slave caravan made camp. As most evenings go things seemed quiet enough, so shortly after sunset, Ashad found himself drifting into slumber from within his cage. When he awoke to the sounds of screaming and battle, he knew in his heart his old life was over. Gnolls from the Pale Mountain had decended upon the caravan, and was cleaving a bloody path through it's very heart. In the ensuing chaos, Ashad and numerous other slaves were released by their masters in hopes that they would provide enough of a distraction for the gnolls that they could make their escape. To his knowledge, Ashad was the only one to survive the night and reach open desert.

For days he would wander, with nothing save the scarps of clothes on his back. Nearing his seventh day, Ashad's body had enough. Collapsing on the top of the highest dune in sight, Ashad simply stared up at the sun, muttering an old prayer his mother had taught him over and over. Shortly become blissful unconsciousness overtook him, he noticed a lone figure traversing the dunes heading straight for him. When next he awoke, the cool kiss of the night's breeze greeted him pleasently. Wrapped in a blanket and laying next to a fire, Ashad could smell cooking meat. Struggling to his knees, a firm hand from behind guided him back into onto his side. "Take ease now" the older voice croaked, "You'll need to rest if you are to survive the dunes". Glancing back, Ashad was greeted by the wrinkled smile of an older man covered in heavy armor and thick cloth. The symbol of Sarenrae hung from underneath his scarf, and when Ashad's eyes landed on the object, the old man smiled. "So tell me, where did you learn that prayer you were muttering?"

As if the designs of fate had laid themselves bare in front of him, Ashad's life finally seemed to be coming full circle. His savior was a man named Herret al'Ahir. A holy warrior decided to the sun goddess Sarenrae, the very god Ashad's mother had taught him so much about in his youth. For long hours into the night they spoke of each other's shared faith. Pleased with his tale, Herret offered to take the young man with him, back to the temple he lived in. Herret had been on a pligramige of faith, and was returning to his cloister with what he deemed worthy results. Having nothing save the scars of slavery left to him, Ashad heartly agreed. Within the months to come, he would learn everything he possibly could about the goddess who's stories his mother had reered him on. At Herret's urging, he took up her mantle of faith, and began training in ernst.

Ashad and Herret became steedfast companions. So much so, that Ashad chose to follow in Herret's own footsteps along the path of the paladin. Having Herret's sponsership, Ashad found himself flourshing in his studies. It was as if everything in his life had lead him to this point. Never had he felt so complete. By his twentith year, the church had deemed his tutelage complete. However, before Herret allow the church to bestow his holy knighthood, he had one last task in mind for Ashad. "For we, the enlightened few, a rebirth of sorts is nessacery to prove ourselves to our lady" Herret warned him. "As the sun births light into the world every day, so to must the faithful experience a rebirth into her light. This is a tradition I have found with the teachings of 'The Birth of Light and Truth'. You must now find your own meaning from this."

To Ashad's surprise, Herret had returned him to his former home of Katapesh. "Here is where your story began, and it will be here that your true heart will shine, or falter" Herret warned him. "A man you may remember, has been found guilty of a devious crime. He may likely use his considerable wealth to escape proper punishment, but for now he resides within a dungeon cell. I know his jailer well, and have expended one of my owed favors to grant you an audience with this man. Ask him of his crime, and let your heart guide you from there." With that, Herret lead him to the susposed jail, where a collection of armored indivduals hurried them into the bowels of the building. Quickly, Ashad found himself thrust into a cell with a man stitched into his very memory. The rich merchant, who had once owned he and his mother, sat dispondantly in a corner of the cell. When their eyes met, Ashad knew what his test would be.

"Tell me prisoner, what is your crime?" Ashad managed with as steady a voice as possible. "A fools crime, one I shall not be convicted of!" the merchant spat. Again he steeled his feelings "What is your crime" Ashad demanded, causing the merchant to shake with fear. "If you must know, I have been accused of killing a slave girl I once owned, years ago! One of my own servants, having been slighted, has leveled his alliegations against me! The tales of a drunkard!" the merchant chimed with an almost pleading tone. The pangs in Ashad's heart had already made him aware of the tale to be spun before him. Herret had known his past as intimately as Ashad could have told it. With almost stone cold certainty, Ashad knew that his mother's murderer sat before him. With a clarity he had never experienced before, he removed the scarf that had concealed his face and eased his scimitar from it's scabbard. The merchant's expression of utter horror was answer enough for Ashad.

Herret watched on with muted interest as Ashad exited the cell. Wordlessly he strode past his mentor, a look of peaceful calm etched upon his face. Peering into the cell, the old merchant sat quivering in his corner, babbling his confession in hushed whispers for anyone to hear. When he exited the jail, Ashad had already mounted his steed, and waited motionless for his teacher. "I see you spared him, Ashad. But I must inquire as to why?" Herret asked. To his surprise, Ashad simply turned his steed towards the gates they'd used to enter Katapesh and replied "Let the healing light of the sun burn out his darkness within me. So that I may let my inner light be a guide for others, and a searing flame against unrepentant evil". With that, Ashad spurred his mount onward, leaving behind the last tethers of his life as a slave.

Two years after that fateful night, on a peaceful summer eve, Herret al'Ahir passed away. In his will, he had call Ashad his son, and left all of his worldly possessions to him. After the burial ceremony, Ashad was approached by members of the church with Herret's final request of him. He had recently been charged with a task that would take him away from the cloister for some time. It was a task considered to be of great import to the clergy, and on his deathbed he begged his brethern to allow Ashad to complete the journey in his stead. Without so much as a second thought, Ashad nodded and spoke, "How could a son refuse his father? Send word of my acceptance. Tell them, Ashad al'Ahir is coming."

The boy was born in a small village in the foothills of Katapesh, but that is a life he remembers little of. His very earliest memories are happy ones, fleeting visions of his mother's smiling face. But then the gnolls came. They ravaged the village, capturing as many as they could, killing those they couldn't. For months, he was kept barely alive as the slaves traveled across the country. Hunger, dehydration, and the sun beating down on him numbed the boy, and by the time the caravan finally made the Fleshfair, there was little left of him but a glint of intelligent life in his eyes. The moment he'd been dreading most had come, and he was finally to be sold into slavery, the rest of his days dedicated to fulfilling the whim of another, toiling for the gain of another.

When he stepped off the block, he found himself the property of a fat dwarf, dressed in fine silks and smelling of pesh. He was resigned to his fate, until he heard the dwarf saying he was to become a eunuch. At that, he ran, his bony wrists and ankles slipping through the manacles that bound him. He darted through the streets without any thought to where he was going, and he soon found himself struggling against the arms of a guard. Not long after, his dwarf master appeared to reclaim him. Angered, he beat a blow across the boy's face, splitting his lip. Behind the dwarf, a dark-skinned man in red robes was approaching, saying something to the dwarf. With the dwarf's attention drawn away, the boy struggled loose of the guards and jumped on the dwarf, biting down hard on whatever he could as the guards pulled him off. When he had finally stopped struggling, the dwarf was accepting a purse from the man who smiled kindly at the boy. Realizing that he had been sold again, the boy stared mutely at the man, who called himself Hassan. Hassan asked if the boy if he had a name, and he shook his head, for the gnolls had taken that from him. Hassan asked if he wanted a name, and again he shook his head, for he knew names had power. The man laughed again and called him Alem. He was asked if he was going to run, and he shook his head. The man did not understand, and asked him why. Alem told him that the reason he ran from the dwarf is because he did not want to be a eunuch. The man laughed, assuring him that he would not be a eunuch. Instead, he promised Alem that he would be a house servant, and maybe one day his apprentice. As Hassan turned to walk home, Alem smiled, understanding that in some way fate had smiled upon him. The gnolls had taken his family and his name, but fate had given him a new one.

For years, Alem worked diligently for Hassan and was treated well. He was taught to read and write, and to speak in other languages. Eventually he began to accompany his master on errands and learned to make deals and gain favors. Hassan taught Alem, and Alem had the mysteries of the universe unraveled before him. All he was taught, he learned, and under Hassan's tutelage, Alem learned to harness magic. He proved especially competent in conjuration, and he devoured the lore of the Great Beyond with the same appetite he had devoured his mother's tales of the genies who made the world and taught people of magic. Hassan taught Alem the true power of names, and how to call and bind the creatures of the Great Beyond into service. His master gave him a companion to aid in his studies, a monkey he called Kaspar. Alem did not understand how the monkey was supposed to help him, but Kaspar proved a true companion, adopting Alem's shoulder as a favored perch. Hassan gave him orange robes, spun in fine silk but plain without decoration.

For years, Alem served Hassan as slave and as apprentice, until one day, Hassan called Alem to his chambers. He explained to Alem that he owed a favor to a man named Garavel that he could not repay, and that he must send Alem in his stead. But to send a slave to repay a favor is dishonorable, and so Hassan proposed an exchange of favors: if Alem would accompany Garavel on his mission, Alem would be given his freedom. Accepting in mute astonishment, Alem the Free took the name al-abd-Hassan, for though no longer a slave, he would always be his master's servant.

And so it came to pass that Alem abd-al-Hassan would find himself in the company of Garavel and a caravan of mercenaries, sworn to serve as best he is able in whatever capacity he found. It is here that his tale truly begins.

Alem is a young man of vaguely mixed Garundi and Kelish descent, about 20 years of age His har is coarse and black, his skin a swarthy walnut tone. Though small and unimposing in childhood, he has grown to be an imposing figure at 6’2”. The white turban he wears on his head gives him the appearance of an even larger man, and his loose-fitting orange robes hide his lanky build. He wears a wiry close-cropped beard and mustache. Above his hooked nose, his dark-brown eyes gleam with mirth. From his right ear dangles a simple gold hoop. Perched on his shoulder sits Kaspar, his monkey familiar.

Pictures:
Alem:
Alem 1
Alem 2

Hassan:
Hassan 1
Hassan 2

Kaspar:
Hangin' around

Alem is a mirthful young man, ever friendly. “Friendship is the most powerful slavery,” his master taught him. It is a lesson he understands well, for though he is a freed slave, he remains very loyal to Hassan. Alem is quick to laugh, quick to forgive, and quick to offer his services for a favor in return. He pays very close attention to names, for his master taught him that names have power over a person. Well-spoken and intelligent, he enjoys nothing more than learning new things, and he is endlessly delighted with the people that can teach him things he doesn’t yet know. He places a high value on politeness and honor, for these things make friends worth keeping. He counts all creatures as potential friends and allies, including animals. Kaspar, his monkey familiar, is Alem’s constant companion and most trusted friend, though Kaspar’s rascally nature can cause problems for Alem.

However, he harbors a deep hatred for gnolls, springing from the memories of the slavers that destroyed his village and killed his family. While he doesn’t have enmity for those who would own slaves, he feels that all people should be treated with respect, if only because a respected man takes pride in the work he does, and he objects to those who would enslave others by force, violently if need be.

Stuff that not everyone would know

RONDU (THE ROUND MOUND OF POUND)
Male dwarf Monk 1
LG Medium humanoid
Init +6 ; Senses Perception +8, Darkvision 60 ft.
==DEFENSE==
AC 17, touch 16, flat-footed 13 (+2 dex, +4 monk bonus)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +6
Defensive Abilities Defensive Training, Hardy, Stability
==OFFENSE==
Spd 20 ft/x4
Melee Unarmed Strike +2 1d6+2 20/x2
Melee Unarmed Strike +1/+1 1d6+2 20/x2
Melee Handaxe (Cold Iron) +2 1d6+2 20/x3
Melee Handaxe (Silver) +2 1d6+1 20/x3
Ranged Javelin +2 1d6+2 20/x2
Special Attacks Hatred, Flurry of Blows, Unarmed Strike
==STATISTICS==
Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 17, Cha 6
Base Atk +0, Cmb +2Cmd +18
Feats IMPROVED INITIATIVE(PFCR 127), DODGE (PFCR 122), IMPROVED UNARMED STRIKE (PFCR 128), STUNNING FIST (PFCR 135)
Skills Acrobatics +6, Climb +6, Heal +3, Knowledge (History) +6, Ride +2, Perception +8, Sense Motive +7, Stealth +6, Survival +3, Swim +2
Languages Common, Dwarven
Combat Gear Unarmed Strike, Javelin (6), Handaxe (Silver), Handaxe (Cold Iron)
Other Gear Backpack, Bedroll, Waterskin, Trail rations (6), Hemp rope 50 ft, Grappling hook, OIl (3), Fling and steel, Clay tankard, 6 gp, 1 sp
Class Abilities • FLURRY OF BLOWS: A monk may make a flurry of blows with special monk weapons and unarmed strikes interchangeably, according to the modifiers in PFCR 58. (PFCR 58).
• AC BONUS: Add Wis mod +1/4 monk levels (max +5) to AC and CMD when unarmored and unencumbered. Apply vs. touch attacks and when flat-footed. (PFCR 57).
• MONK BONUS FEATS: You have chosen the following monk bonus feats: 0. (PFCR 58-59).
• MONK STUNNING FIST: Stunning Fist as a free feat at 1st level, with extra benefits at higher levels. (PFCR 59).
• MONK WEAPONS AND ARMOR: Monks are proficient with club, crossbow (light or heavy), dagger, handaxe, javelin, kama, nunchaku, quarterstaff, sai, shuriken, siangham, and sling. Monks are not proficient with any armor or shields When wearing armor, using a shield, or carrying a medium or heavy load, a monk loses her AC bonus, as well as her fast movement and flurry of blows abilities. (PFCR 57).
• UNARMED STRIKE: A monk gains Improved Unarmed Strike at 1st level as a bonus feat. The Monk can attack with any appendage, so no negatives for offhand attacking. The monk deals more damage with an offhand attack, by the tables in PFA3 29, 30. (PFCR 59).
Traits • IRON LIVER (Equipment): Due to a lucky constitution or frequent exposure, your body is resistant to poison, including alcohol and drugs. You gain a +2 trait bonus on Fortitude saves against poison and drugs, and a +4 trait bonus on Fortitude saves to avoid the effects of alcohol. (PFCo: AdvAr 30)
Traits • SEEKING ADVENTURE (Campaign): You begin the game with your own wayfinder, a loan from your venture-captain. A wayfinder is a magical compass that grants you a +2 circumstance bonus on Survival checks to avoid becoming lost, and can be commanded to emit light as the spell (CL 5th) as a standard action. (LoFPG 10)

Rondu is a homely dwarf about 4 feet tall with receding red hair, an unkempt bushy beard, a bad complexion and prodigious gut. He is very light on his feet and quick for a beefy guy. Rondu is often seen with a hunk of food in one hand and a large mug of beer in the other. His clothes are typically stained with remnants from his previous meals. Rondu seems to have little control (and takes little notice) of his more odiferous bodily functions. The minor aura of stench that surrounds him seems to make him the a favorite landing spot for flies and other small vermin.
Often underestimated as a drunken bufoon, Rondu devistating punches and nimble moves reveal his martial training to those who would try to bully others or contemplate evil deeds.

Constantly finding himself on the move because of his crude personality and suspect grooming, Rondu is seeking to prove that his worth to a world that refuses to look past his rough exterior.

ENRICK WENTHROPE
Male human Cleric 1
LN Medium humanoid
Init +2 ; Senses Perception +4
==DEFENSE==
AC 17, touch 12, flat-footed 15 (+4 armor, +1 shield, +2 dex)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +7
==OFFENSE==
Spd 10 ft/x4
Melee Mace, Light -1 1d6-1 20/x2
Melee Dagger, Melee -1 1d4-1 19-20/x2
Ranged Mwk Crossbow, Light +4 1d8 19-20/x2
Ranged Mwk Crossbow, Light +5 1d8+1 19-20/x2
==STATISTICS==
Str 8, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 18, Cha 13
Base Atk +0, Cmb -1Cmd +11
Feats ARMOR PROFICIENCY (LIGHT) (PFCR 118), ARMOR PROFICIENCY (MEDIUM) (PFCR 118), POINT-BLANK SHOT (PFCR 131), PRECISE SHOT (PFCR 131), SHIELD PROFICIENCY (PFCR 133)
Skills Diplomacy +5, Heal +8, Knowledge (nobility) +5, Knowledge (religion) +6
Languages Celestial, Common
Combat Gear Mace, Light, Mwk Crossbow, Light, Dagger, Armored Coat , Buckler
Other Gear MW Crossbow light - (Heirloom), 20 bolts, Mace, light, Holy Symbol, silver, Dagger, Backpack (carried by Bosley), - 20 bolts, - 10 bolts, cold iron, - 5 bolts, silvered, - 50' rope, - 2 bedrolls, - Flint & Steel, - Lantern, bullseye, - 6 oil, - 20 days, - Soap (1 lb), - Tent, - 3 torches, - 2 waterskin, - Wine, fine (bottle), - 2 Tankards, clay, Magic Items Equipped by Slot, Belt/Waist Slot, Body Slot, Chest/Torso Slot, Eyes/Face Slot, Feet Slot, Hand Slot, Head Slot, Headband Slot, Neck Slot, Ring Slot (RH), Ring Slot (LH), Shoulder Slot, Wrist/Arm Slot
Class Abilities • AURA OF LAWFUL NEUTRAL: A Cleric of Abadar radiates a powerful aura of Lawful Neutral. (PFCR 39).
• CLERIC CHANNEL ENERGY: You channel Positive Energy allowing you to either heal the living or harm the undead for 1d6. Affects 30 ft radius from you. Will save DC 12 to halve damage. Standard action. 4 times per day. Does not provoke Attacks of Opportunity. (PFCR 40).
• CLERIC BONUS LANGUAGES: A cleric’s bonus language options include Celestial, Abyssal, and Infernal regardless of race. (PFCR 41).
• CLERIC ORISONS: Pick your 0-level spells. You can cast these at will. (PFCR 41).
• CLERIC SPELLS: The cleric casts divine spells drawn from the Cleric spell list, as listed in PFCR 226-229. The cleric must meditate and pray for an hour each day to regain spells. (PFCR 39-40).
• CLERIC SPONTANEOUS CASTING: A Good cleric can swap prepared spells for spells with "cure" in the name. An evil cleric can swap out prepared spells for "inflict" spells. A neutral cleric of a neutral god can choose one or the other upon taking the Cleric class. (PFCR 41).
• CLERIC WEAPONS AND ARMOR: All simple weapons, all types of armor, shields (except tower shields), and favored weapon of deity -- Crossbow, light. (PFCR 39).
• DOMAIN POWERS: Each of the cleric's chosen domains [Nobility, Protection] grant domain powers.
- Inspiring Word (Sp) - +2 morale bonus to attack rolls, skill and ability checks and saving throws to one creature within 30 ft. for 1 rounds. Standard action. 7 times per day. [PFCR 46]
- Resistant Touch (Sp) - Touch grants ally transfers your resistance bonus for 1 minute. Standard action. 7 times per day. [PFCR 46]
(PFCR 40-41).
• FORBIDDEN SPELL ALIGNMENT: Spells with the Chaotic descriptor are forbidden by your alignment and your deity's alignment. (PFCR 41, 49).
Traits • HEIRLOOM WEAPON (Equipment): You carry a weapon that has been passed down from generation to generation in your family. This heirloom weapon is of masterwork quality (but you pay only the standard cost at character creation). You gain a +1 trait bonus on attack rolls with this specific weapon and are considered proficient with that specific weapon (but not other weapons of that type) even if you do not have the required proficiencies. (PFCo: AdvAr 30)
• MISSIONARY (Campaign: Legacy of Fire): You gain a +1 trait bonus in Knowledge (religion), and it is always considered a class skill for you. (PFAP: LoFR PG 10 - 11)

Enrick is a tall frail man with dark hair, fair skin and green eyes. His handsome face and charming manner are slightly marred by his arrogant expression and demeanor.
Enrick is the third son of a minor noble who was groomed from a young age to follow in the family tradition of serving Abadar. After being ordained, Enrick was spurred into adventure and travel by his father's command to "make a name for himself".

Fastidious, well-dressed, and foppish, Enrick's build and temperament make him particularly ill-suited to physical exertion of any type. He relies almost entirely on his life-long man-servant, Bosley, to perform any manual tasks for him. Bosley is a fit middle-aged man who possesses all the skills one would expect of a gentleman's gentleman. Bosley is never far from Enrick's side and has served the Wenthrope family faithfully since he was a young man.

Bosley 1st level commoner (built on zero points)
HP: 10
Str 14, Dex 10, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 10
Feats: SKILL FOCUS (Profession (butler), TOUGHNESS
Skills: Diplomacy +1, Knowledge (nobility) +1, Profession (butler) +6
Languages:Common
Combat Gear: Dagger

Enrick has “prepaid” Bosley’s wages (skilled hireling) for 90 days.

Xzavier Kalasfir
Male Human Phantasmist (Illusionist) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (human)
Init +2, Senses Perception +2
-----DEFENSE-----
AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+2 Dex)
hp 7 (1d6+1 favored)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +4
-----OFFENSE-----
Move 30 ft.
Melee dagger +0 (1d4, crit. 20/x2)
Special Attacks
Terror 6/day
Wizard Spells Prepared 4 / 2 (CL 1st, concentration +4)
1st - cause fear (DC 15), vanish
0 - dancing lights, detect magic, ghost sound (4 normal humans, DC 14 to disbelieve), haunted fey aspect
Spellbook
1st - cause fear (DC 16), color spray (DC 16), vanish
0 - arcane mark, bleed, dancing lights, detect magic, detect poison, disrupt undead (+2 ranged touch), flare (DC 13), ghost sound (4 normal humans, DC 14 to disbelieve), haunted fey aspect, light, mage hand, mending, message, open/close, prestidigitation, ray of frost (+2 ranged touch), resistance, spark, touch of fatigue (+0 touch attack, DC 13)
Opposition Schools: Conjuration, Enchantment
-----STATISTICS-----
Str 10, Con 10, Dex 14, Int 17, Wis 14, Cha 13
Base Atk +0, CMB +0, CMD 12
Feats Scribe Scroll, Spell Focus (Illusion), Stealthy
Skills Appraise +6, Escape Artist +4, Knowledge (arcana) +7, Knowledge (local) +6, Profession (healer) +5, Spellcraft +6, Stealth +5
Traits
Lore Seeker: Xzavier has a +1 trait bonus to Knowledge (arcane) skill checks, and is particularly adept at casting three arcane spells (cause fear, haunting mists, nightmare), which are cast at +1 caster level and +1 save DC if any.
Reclaiming Your Roots: Xzavier begins play with a delicate wand of silver and gold filligree, jeweled with sapphires and amethysts. It has 20 charges remaining and can be used to cast color spray (CL 1st).
Languages
Gear dagger
-----FEATS AND SPECIAL ABILITIES-----
Arcane Bond (Sp) Xzavier has an arcane bond with a delicate wand of silver and gold filligree, jeweled with sapphires and amethyst. If he attempts to cast a spell without this wand in hand, Xzavier must make a concentration check. (DC 20 + spell level). Once per day, Xzavier can cast any spell in his spellbook, even if the spell is not prepared. This spell cannot be modified by metamagic feats or abilities, and cannot be of one of Xzavier's opposition schools.
Scribe Scroll (Feat)
Spell Focus (Illusion) (Feat)
Stealthy (Feat)
Terror (Su) As a standard action, Xzavier can make a touch attack to assail a creature with nightmares only it can see. The creature provokes an attack of opportunity from you or from an ally of your choice. Creatures with more hit dice than your wizard level are unaffected. Xzavier can use this ability 6 times per day.