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Joneth Revane's page

138 posts. Alias of F. Castor.

Full Name

Joneth Revane


Human (Chelaxian, Taldan)


Magus (Bladebound, Kensai) 1; AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 10, CMD 15; HP 9/9; AP 4/4; Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3; Initiative +3; Perception +6, Sense Motive +1




5 ft. 10 in., 165 lbs.




Neutral Good



Strength 12
Dexterity 16
Constitution 13
Intelligence 17
Wisdom 12
Charisma 11

About Joneth Revane

Male Human (Chelaxian, Taldan) Magus (Bladebound, Kensai) 1
NG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +3; Senses Low-light vision; Perception +6
AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 10. . (+3 Dex, +1 Int)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +3
Defensive Abilities Canny Defense +1
Spd 30 ft.
Melee Cold iron scimitar +2 (1d6+1/18-20/x2) or
. . Dagger +3 (1d4+1/19-20/x2) or
. . Unarmed strike +3 (1d3+1/20/x2)
Ranged Dagger +3 (1d4+1/19-20/x2/10 ft.)
Special Attacks Spell Combat
Magus Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +4)
1st - color spray (DC 14)
0 (at will) - daze (DC 13), detect magic
Str 12, Dex 16, Con 13, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 11
Base Atk +0; CMB +1 (+3 vs. demons); CMD 15
Feats Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus (Scimitar)
Traits Blood of Dragons, Seeker, Stolen Fury
Drawbacks Attached
Skills (Trained) Acrobatics +4, Knowledge (Arcana) +7, Knowledge (Planes) +7, Perception +6, Perform (Dance) +1, Spellcraft +7, Stealth +4
Skills (Untrained) Bluff +0, Climb +1, Craft +3, Diplomacy +0, Disguise +0, Escape Artist +3, Fly +3, Heal +1, Intimidate +0, Perform +0, Ride +3, Sense Motive +1, Survival +1, Swim +1
Languages Abyssal, Common (Taldane), Dwarven, Elven
SQ Arcane Pool (4 points, +1), Chosen Weapon (Scimitar), Diminished Spellcasting, Dual Talent, Weapon Focus
Combat Gear Cold iron scimitar, dagger, spell component pouch; Other Gear Traveler's outfit, masterwork backpack (25.5 lbs: bedroll, flint and steel, ink (black), inkpen, mess kit, shaving kit, silk rope (50 ft.), spellbook, torch x2, trail rations x4, waterskin, whetstone), belt pouch (1 lb: acid flask), belt pouch (2 lbs: caltrops), scroll case (0 lbs: parchment x4)
Wealth 14 gold pieces, 2 silver pieces, 6 copper pieces
Dual Talent +2 racial bonus on two ability scores instead of one, replaces Bonus Feat and Skilled racial traits
Arcane Pool (Su) Gain arcane pool with points equal to 1/3 magus level (minimum 1) + INT modifier, expend 1 point to grant any held weapon a +1 enhancement bonus for 1 minute
Canny Defense (Ex) Add INT modifier to AC (max Kensai level)
Chosen Weapon Kensai abilities only function when wielding a weapon of this type
Diminished Spellcasting Cast one fewer spell of each level than normal
Spell Combat (Ex) Use a weapon with one hand at -2 and cast a spell with the other
Weapon Focus (Ex) Gain Weapon Focus with chosen weapon
Attached -1 penalty on Will saves and -2 penalty on saves vs. fear when the object of attachment is either threatened, in danger, or in someone else's possession
Blood of Dragons Gain low-light vision
Bonus Skill Rank +1 skill rank/level to be invested in one Craft, Perform or Profession skill
Seeker +1 trait bonus on Perception checks, and Perception is always a class skill
Stolen Fury +2 trait bonus on CMB vs. demons

Standing five feet and ten inches tall and with an athletic, if a little on the slender side, physique thanks to practicing his swordsmanship almost daily for years now, Joneth, although quite human, looks a little different than the average member of his race. In fact, he could very well be mistaken for a half-elf, given his fair complexion, shoulder-length silvery white hair, golden eyes and, last but certainly not least, slightly pointed ears. Still, he is all too human, his physical traits a combination of his mixed Chelaxian and Taldan heritage, a bit of elven blood on his mother's side and, finally, the ritual that almost cost him his life and quite possibly his soul a little more than a decade ago.

Showing a preference towards comfortable fitted clothing of more somber hues as far as his usual choice of attire is concerned, Joneth forgoes armor, having never been trained in fighting in it, and relies more on his own speed, agility and reflexes to keep him safe in a fight. Lack of armor notwithstanding, however, the warrior mage is rarely seen without his slender scimitar resting in its scabbard of black and silver by his left hip or his pouch of spell components hanging from his belt by his right, as well as a dagger kept sheathed in the small of his back.

Joneth possesses his parents' curiosity and love of adventure, of not only its potential rewards, but the challenges and the opportunities for improving one's skill it provides. Once an angry and impatient boy, he has been changed considerably after his near death experience and its mystical nature. He is now a patient man, calm and collected even when under pressure, although this control should not be confused with disinterest or lack of determination to see things through and overcome the challenges in his path. Friendly and kind, Joneth enjoys the company of others, especially those he considers friends, and is quick to smile and joke. Almost as quick as he is to rise to the defense of such friends or simply those unable to defend themselves, even if he tends to dismiss their gratitude afterwards with a shrug and a crooked smile.

Born to the Taldan swordsman Narsius and a half-elven wizardess of Chelaxian descent by the name of Caithrin, adventurers both, Joneth had his father's amber eyes and brown hair and his mother's fair skin and slightly tapered ears. Naturally agile and intelligent and with senses almost as sharp as an elf's thanks to his elven blood, however diluted, the boy was still fundamentally human and had also inherited his human father's temper and lack of patience. Although he had shown an interest in learning about his mother's arcane talents and even showed some promise during his studies, it was this lack of patience that resulted in his gravitating towards a more martial training. Narsius was only too happy to oblige, even gifting the boy with a scimitar forged of cold iron, the blade being the weapon of choice of an old friend and ally of his, a demon hunter of no small skill who had met his end at the hands of his prey.

And thus, between his martial training and his arcane studies, time passed, with Joneth finding an outlet for his temper, as well as a means to deal with his lack of patience. Still, considering his parents' chosen career, it was not all that rare that the boy would be left alone, sometimes for days on end. As one might expect, although he would still continue with both facets of his education, so to speak, having both parents absent did not do wonders for balancing out those character flaws. And on one occasion the conequences were somewhat more dire.

Adventurers tend to make enemies quite easily, enemies who would gladly strike at them as soon as the chance presented itself, and Narsius and Caithrin were no exception to this particular rule. So, during one of the pair's trips away from home, and while Joneth was training alone with his favored sword, he was set upon. Now, it would be unfair to say that the young man did not put up a fight, but he was outnumbered and nowhere near as skilled as he would have needed to be, while the cultists that attacked and took him were determined to succeed or die. The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself in a cell, his cold iron scimitar hanging on the wall at the other side of the locked cell door. And in that cell he remained for more than a few days, the exact time lost to him, as the cultists behind his abduction came and went, forcing strange concoctions down his throat while uttering words in a strange language, in Abyssal as he would much later find out. And then came the day he was deemed ready... ready to be sacrificed that is.

Joneth was angry, angrier than ever, as he was being taken to the room where the sacrifice would take place. Yet, despite his fury, there was a small part of him that recognized that what he was feeling was not entirely natural, that the potions he had been drinking while imprisoned helped bring out the anger in him, that they wanted him in this state for the ritual. While two of his captors were leading him to what would probably be the last room he would ever see, a third one was carrying his curved sword. He quite correctly suspected that it would be the instrument of his death, the cultists probably appreciating the irony of using a demon-slaying weapon to sacrifice its current wielder to the very creatures it is supposed to help kill. As he was being placed upon the altar, all hope seemed lost. The young man closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable...

And then he opened them again to the sound of thunder and lightning, as the one ready to deliver the killing blow was slumping over, a smoking hole through his chest. Trying to control himself and what he was feeling, he looked around, only to see his father cutting down another of his captors, rage evident on his face, while his mother was lost in the workings of another killing spell. He realized his arms were free, the men holding them dead or fled. And it was just as well, as another hooded man had grabbed hold of the blade and was bringing it down towards his throat, the man's eyes hinting at both his madness and the determination to complete the ritual. Instinctively, he put his right hand up, shielding himself as the cold iron blade bit deep into his open palm and seemingly absorbed the blood that flowed from the wound.

And then something happened to both the young man and the blade as both wielder and weapon were changed inside and out. Joneth felt his fury drain away, being replaced with calmness and a sense of control, while at the same time his brown hair turned white and his amber eyes golden. On the other hand, the scimitar's cold iron blade turned darker still, becoming as black as midnight. And inside a sentience stirred, although whether it had always been there or came into being right there and then was not known. It was still small and weak, but it knew one thing: its prey was demons and their followers.

After the ordeal, Joneth's parents did not leave again, at the very least not both of them at the same time. And their son, seemingly having put his brush with death behind him, returned to his studies, both martial and arcane, with newfound fervor. It took him a few years, but eventually he felt he was ready to pursue what had been the driving force behind his throwing himself into his training: find out more about why he had been kidnapped and who was behind it. Narsius and Caithrin were not happy to see their only son go, especially considering the risk involved with his quest, but they trusted in his skill and, being former adventurers and seekers themselves, could not stand in the way of their child's desire.

He traveled around for a few years, during which time he supported himself thanks to his skill with magic and his knowledge of arcane and planar lore, as well as his ability to wield a blade well enough, be it either as a hired guard or a performer, his swordplay agile and graceful and interesting to behold, not unlike a complicated dance, both beautiful and deadly. His travels resulted in his finding out at least the cult's identity; they worshipped Deskari, the demon lord of the Locust Host, and those that had kidnapped him were only a small part of a much larger cult. Finally, his quest for knowledge and more clues brought him to the crusader city of Kenabres, where he has been for the last few months, both lending his own experience and knowledge to the city's defenders and researchers and finding out what he can from them in return.

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