Isai Odighuzua

Kellan, the cursed's page

47 posts. Alias of Aku Warashi.


Race

Male Shaman

Classes/Levels

HP 11 | AC:17 | T:11 | FF:16 | CMB +0 | CMD:11 | Fort:+0 | Ref:+1 | Will:+6 | Init:+1| Spellcraft +6 | Pers +8 | Surv +8 |

About Kellan, the cursed

Statistics:
Middle Age Male Human Ancestor Shaman (Speaker For the Past)1
N Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +8
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DEFENSE
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AC 17, touch 11, flat-footed 16 (+4 armor, +1 dex, +2 shield)
hp 11
Fort +0, Ref +1, Will +6
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OFFENSE
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Speed 30 ft.

Melee

+0 Club 1d6

Ranged
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STATISTICS
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Str 10, Dex 12, Con 10, Int 13, Wis 18, Cha 14
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 11
Traits
Earning Your Freedom
Privileged Slave

Drawbacks

Feats
Combat Casting
Toughness

Skills (7 points; 4 class, 1 INT, 2 Background)
ACP 0

Acrobatics* 1
Appraise 2
Bluff 6
Climb 0
Craft: Alchemy 6
Craft: Trinkets 6
Diplomacy 2
Disguise 2
Escape Artist* 1
Fly* 1
Heal 8
Intimidate 2
Kn. Religion 6
Perception 8
Ride* 1
Sense Motive 4
Spellcraft 6
Stealth* 1
Survival 8
Swim** 0

*ACP applies to these skills

Languages Common

Special Abilities:

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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Orisons, spirit, spirit magic

Spells:

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Spells
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0th (at will)
Guidance,
Detect Poison,
Daze

1st (2/day)

Cure Light Wounds,
Sleep

Gear/Possessions:

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GEAR/POSSESSIONS
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Carrying Capacity
Light 0-33 lb. Medium 34-67 lb. Heavy 68-100 lb.
Current Load Carried 0 lb.

Money 0 GP 0 SP 0 CP

Backgroud:
Old Devie’s path an’ mine crossed more times ’n I’m comfy mem’ryin’, an’ after I’m died, no sayin’ what that fangy devil won’t try an’ do to me . . . so gimme some mutton an’ I’ll tell you ’bout our first meetin’. A fat joocesome slice, nay, none o’ your burnt wafery off’rin’s . . .

Adam, my bro, an’ Pa ’n’ me was trekkin’ back from Kaahono Market on miry roads with a busted cart axle in draggly clothesies. Evenin’ catched us up early, so we tented on the southly bank o’ Sloosha’s Crossin’, ’cos Waipio River was furyin’ with days o’ hard rain an’ swollen by a spring tide. Sloosha’s was friendsome ground tho’ marshy, no un lived in the Waipio Valley ’cept for a mil’yun birds, that’s why we din’t camo our tent or pull cart or nothin’. Pa sent me huntin’ for tinder ’n’ firewood while he ’n’ Adam tented up.

Now, I’d got diresome hole-spew that day ’cos I’d ate a gammy dog leg in Kaahono, an’ I was squattin’ in a thicket o’ ironwood trees upgulch when sudd’nwise eyes on me, I felt ’em. “Who’s there?” I called, an’ the mufflin’ ferny swallowed my voice.

Oh, a darky spot you’re in, boy, murmed the mufflin’ ferny.

“Name y’self!” shouted I, tho’ not so loud. “I got my blade, I have!”

Right ’bove my head someun whisped, Name y’self, boy, is it Kellan the Brave or Kellan the Cowardy? Up I looked an’ sure ’nuff there was Old Devie cross-leggin’ on a rottin’ ironwood tree, a slywise grinnin’ in his hungry eyes.

“I ain’t ’fraid o’ you !” I telled him, tho’ tell-it-true my voice was jus’ a duck fart in a hurrycane. Quakin’ inside I was when Old Devie jumped off his branch an’ then what happened? He dis’peared in a blurry flurryin’, yay, b’hind me. Nothin’ there . . . ’cept for a plump lardbird  snufflyin’ for grubs, jus’ askin’ for a pluckin ’n’ a spit! Well, I reck’ned Kellan the Brave’d faced down Old Devie, yay, he’d gone off huntin’ cowardier vic’tries ’n me. I wanted to tell Pa ’n’ Adam ’bout my eerie adventurin’, but a yarnin’ is more delish with broke-de-mouth grinds, so hushly-hushly up I hoicked my leggin’s an’ I crept up on that meatsome feathery buggah . . . an’ I dived.

Mister Lardbird he slipped thru my fingers an’ skipped off, but I wasn’t givin’ up, nay, I chased him upstream thru bumpy ’n’ thorny thickets, spring-heelin’ dead branches ’n’ all, thorns scratched my face diresome, but see I’d got the chasin’ fever so I din’t notice the trees thinnin’ nor the Hiilawe Falls roarin’ nearer, not till I ran schnock into the pool clearin’ an’ giddied up a bunch o’ horses. Nay, not wild horses, these was horses decked in studded leather armor an’ on the Valley that means one thing only, yay, the Nako.

Ten–twelve of them painted savages was ’ready risin ’n’ reachin’ for their whips ’n’ blades, yellin’ war cries at me! Oh, now I legged it back downgulch the way I’d come, yay, the hunter was the hunted. The nearest Nako was runnin’ after me, others was leapin’ on their horses an’ laughin’ with the sport. Now panickin’ wings your foot but it muddies your thinkin’ too, so I rabbited back to Pa. I was only a niner so I jus’ followed my instinct without thinkin’ thru what’d happen.

I never got back to our tentin’ tho’, or I’d not be sittin’ here yarnin’ to you. Over a ropy root–Devie’s foot maybe–I tripped ’n’ tumblied into a pit o’ dead leaves what hid me from the Nako hoofs thunderin’ over me. I stayed there, hearin’ them jagged shouts goin’ by, jus’ yards away runnin’ thru them trees . . . straight t’ward Sloosha’s. To Pa ’n’ Adam. I creeped slywise ’n’ speedy, but late I was, yay, way too late. The Nako was circlin’ our camp, their bullwhips crackin’. Pa he’d got his ax swingin’ an’ my bro’d got his spiker, but the Nako was jus’ toyin’ with ’em. I stayed at the lip o’ the clearin’, see fear was pissin’ in my blood an’ I cudn’t go on. Crack! went a whip, an’ Pa ’n’ Adam was top-sied an’ lay wrigglyin’ like eels on the sand. The Nako chief, one sharky buggah, he got off his horse an’ walked splishin’ thru the shallows to Pa, smilin’ back at his painted bros, got out his blade an’ opened Pa’s throat ear to ear.

Nothin’ so ruby as Pa’s ribbonin’ blood I ever seen. The chief licked Pa’s blood off the steel. Adam’d got the dead shock, his spunk was drained off. A painted buggah binded his heels ’n’ wrists an’ tossed my oldest bro over his saddle like a sack o’ taro, an’ others sivvied our camp for ironware ’n’ all an’ busted what they din’t take. The chief got back on his horse an’ turned ’n’ looked right at me . . . them eyes was Old Devie’s eyes.   Kellan the Cowardy, they said, you was born to be mine, see, why even fight me?

Did I prove him wrong? Stay put an’ sink my blade into a Nako neck? Follow ’em back to their camp an’ try ’n’ free Adam? Nay, Kellan the Brave Niner he snaky-snuck up a leafy hideynick to snivel ’n’ pray to Godkin he’d not be catched ’n’ slaved too. Yay, that’s all I did. Oh, if I’d been Godkin list’nin’, I’d o’ shooked my head digustly an’ crushed me like a straw bug.

Pa was still lyin ’n’ bobbin’ in the salt shallows when I sneaked back after night’d fallen; see, the river was calmin’ down now an’ the weather clearin’. Pa, who’d micked ’n’ biffed ’n’ loved me. Slipp’ry as cave fish, heavy as a cow, cold as stones, ev’ry drop o’ blood sucked off by the river. I cudn’t grief prop’ly yet nor nothin’, ev’rythin’ was jus’ too shock ’n’ horrorsome, see. Now Sloosha’s was six–seven up ’n’ down miles from Bony Shore, so I built a mound for Pa where he was. I cudn’t mem’ry the Abbess’s holy words ’cept Dear Godkin, Who art amongst us, return this beloved soul to a valley womb, we beseech thee. So I said ’em, forded the Waipio, an’ trogged up the switchblade thru the night forest.

An elf owl screeched at me, Well fought, Kellan the Brave! I yelled at the bird to shut up, but it screeched back, Or else? You’ll bust me like you bust them Nako? Oh, for the sake o’ my chicky-chick-chicks do have mercy! Up in the Kohala Mountains, dingos was howlin’,
Cowardyyy-yy-y Kellanyy-yy-y. Lastly the moon she raised her face, but that cold lady din’t say nothin’ nay she din’t have to, I knowed what she thinked o’ me. Adam was lookin’ at that same moon, only two–three–four miles away, but for all I could help him, that could o’ been b’yonder Far Honolulu. I bust open an’ sobbed ’n’ sobbed ’n’ sobbed, yay, like a wind-knotted babbit.

An uphill mile later I got to Abel’s Dwellin’ an’ I hollered ’em up. Abel’s eldest Isaak let me in an’ I telled ’em what’d happened at Sloosha’s Crossin’, but . . . did I tell the hole true? Nay, wrapped in Abel’s blankies, warmed by their fire ’n’ grinds, the boy Kellan lied. I din’t ’fess how I’d leaded the Nako to Pa’s camp, see, I said I’d just gone huntin’ a lardbird into the thicket, an’ when I got back . . . Pa was killed, Adam taken, an’ Nako hoofs in the mud ev’rywhere. Cudn’t do  nothin’, not then, not now. Ten Nako bruisers could o’ slayed Abel’s kin jus’ as easy as slayin’ Pa.

Your faces are askin’ me. Why’d I lie?

In my new tellin’, see, I wasn’t Kellan the Stoopit nor Kellan the Cowardy, I was jus’ Kellan the Unlucky ’n’ Lucky. Lies are Old Devie’s vultures what circle on high lookin’ down for a runty ’n’ weedy soul to plummet ’n’ sink their talons in, an’ that night at Abel’s Dwellin’, that runty ’n’ weedy soul, yay, it was me.

But was Kellan the Unlucky ‘n’ Lucky ‘appy? Nay, all Sloosha eyed me ‘hind back. Whisped ‘n’ whisped ‘n’ talked ‘n’ fingered runty Kellan. I was tener when Kellan the cowardy runned ‘way ‘n’ not much ‘ter the whities ropped Kellan an’ took ‘im in the ships ‘cross the sea, to land of whities, neve’ to return, a slave like Adam.

Now you people’re lookin’ at a wrinkly buggah, mukelung’s nibblin’ my breath away, an’ I won’t be seein’ many more winters out, nay, nay, I know it. I’m shoutin’ back more ’n forty long years at myself, yay, at Kellan the Niner, Oy, list’n! Times are you’re weak ’gainst the world! Times are you can’t do nothin’! That ain’t your fault, it’s this busted world’s fault is all! But no matter how loud I shout, Boy Kellan, he don’t hear me nor never will.

Appearance and Personality:

Kellan is a escaped slave, taken from his tribe while still a kid. His spirit, take for of this ancestors, but all he can see is the devil, which has been plaguing him his entire life (Old Devie, which is actually his spirit kind of helping him)

Somewhat coward, but tempered with wisdom of years, he may not be willing to sacrifice himself for others, but he will go on while there’s still chance to do something. But if the world is against him, he is wise enough to flee or hide.

A middle aged black skinned man, a tribal shaman, trinkets all over.
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