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Korihor's page

514 posts. Alias of mittean.


Female Chelaxian


Init + 2 | AC 12/Tch 12/FF 10 | FRW 1/2/2 | Perception +2| HP 7/7

About Korihor

LEFT TO DO - Skills, Special abilities, Encumbrance, Equipment

==Rise of the Runelords==

Cross-blooded/ Wild-blooded Arcane/ Sage Sorcerer 1
NG female medium humanoid (human Chelaxian)

Init +2 (+2 Dex) Senses Perception +2

AC 12 (+2 Dex) Tch 12 FF 10
DR none
MaxDex - ACP - ASF 0%
HP 7/7 (1d6+1)
FRW 1/2/2

Spd 30 ft. x4
(, )

Special attacks

Spells known CL 1st; Concentration
Cantrips 5/day DC 15
- Detect magic (જાદુ શોધો) Concentration, up to 1 minute
- Read magic
- Daze (பிரம்மிக்கவை)*
- Light (Ilûm "আলো")
- Mending
1st level 3+2 (5)/day DC 17
- Magic missile (জাদু ক্ষেপণাস্ত্র)

Spell writings:
Enchantment (Tamil), Evocation (Bengali), Abjuration (Armenian), Transmutation (Georgian), Divination (Gujarati), Necromancy (Arabic), Goblin (Icelandic).

Space 5 ft. Reach 5 ft.

Str 10 (+0) Dex 15 (+2) Con 13 (+1) Int 20 (+5) Wis 10 (+0) Cha 14 (+2)
Bab +0 CMB +0 CMD 12

Feats Eschew materials (PFCR 123), Improved counterspell (PFCR 126-127), Simple weapons, Spellcasting prodigy (INT)

Traits Magical Knack (Magic) (PFAPG 329)
Chellish Ambassador - Originally hailing from Cheliax, you've moved here to assist your employer--a prominent Chellish dignitary serving as an ambassador to Absalom--and now live in what was once the Temple of Aroden before his disappearance. Recently, the ambassador has been on edge, hearing news of some new religious upstart planning to claim the Temple of Aroden as his own, and force you and the other Chellish residents to either purchase or construct a new embassy somewhere in the city. Having been embroiled in Chellish politics your whole life, you've developed a level of political savvy; whenever you roll either a Diplomacy check to persuade another person or a Sense Motive to determine if someone is lying to you, you gain a +2 trait bonus on your roll.

Skills Appraise +9, Bluff +6, Craft (calligraphy) +10, Intimidate +6, Knowledge (arcana) +11, Knowledge (history) +9, Spellcraft +11, Use Magic Device +6

Special qualities Heart of the Fields (PFAPG 23), Bloodline arcana
Languages Common

Age 23 Height 5 ft. 6 in. Weight 118 lbs.
Hair Deep black Eyes Light grey
Birthplace Little Mingin, Cheliax

Combat gear Dagger (x1) (1 lb., carried),
Gear in backpack {0/60})
Gear worn Clothes (5 lbs.),

Encumbrance 6 lbs. encumbrance
Carrying capacity //



1st level

Korihor's grey eyes are soft and warm, and stark against her bronze skin. Her dark brown dreadlocks grace her shoulders. She has a noble posture, almost challenging. A tattoo of an upside-down tree runs down her neck, spreading across her shoulders. It's actually not one tattoo, but hundreds of tiny magical sygil tattoo's, forming the image of a tree.

Korihor was born to the north of Merylsward, in the Eldeen reaches, in the small village of Little Mingin, a dirty fishing village on Eldeen bay. Banished for her family because "weird things always happened around her", the final straw was when she turned the mayor's daughter's hair purple, and gave her a beard. Her family wanted a daughter to follow in the magical tradition of her mother, trained in the Floating Towers of Arcanix. When no magic was shown to be causing these oddities, the family "shipped her off" to a distant cousin in Sylbaran. She didn't stick around Uncle Minast's long.
At fifteen her tattoo appeared, growing steadily down her back. She was afraid it was an aberrant dragonmark, but it matched none of the legends she had heard.
At the age of 21, she awoke in an inn in the city of Zarash'ack she was staying at while working as a researcher for Lord Ghendraal...or what remained of the inn. Her bed alone stood unharmed, on an untouched rise in a crater where the three barmaids once stood. All was destroyed by magical energy. That was when her Mark of Making appeared.
What she doesn't know, is that her families home was destroyed in the same fashion, at that same moment, back in Little Mingin.
Fleeing, she wandered across the Vile marsh and the Watching wood, south through Valkrek, eventually making her way to Breland, and the Capitol, Wroat. Her Uncle had moved his family to Xandrar, and Korihor joined them there, again not staying for long, but finding a job as a courier delivering shipments and packages to Cauldron, a caldera-city in the Blackcaps.

Calculating and thoughtful in her planning, she often doesn't think about what she is going to say before she says it in conversation. She tends to assume she will fail people, but still drives her self with obsessive vigor to prove them...and herself...wrong.

Korihor wants to figure out why her mark manifested after her tree tattoo began to develop...and what exactly they both mean.


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Game start - // (//)
Posts - ( per day, %)

Build in future:

Heading for Ultimate magus
Alacritous cogitation
Retributive spell
Reserve feats
level 4 wizard
Maximize spell
Prepare second level spells.


-5th Rhaan-
Eyre is full. I can always tell. You'd think the moon was blood red the way it gets my temper when it's full, not silver-grey. I heard an accent from Aundair today, and almost punched an elderly woman and her kid. I actually felt myself getting upset before I recognized why. Half an afternoon, grumpy as a gnome with a cut on the roof of her mouth. All because the moon is full.

I may have found a job. Not sure yet, but I was referred to Captain Skellerang of the watch by Mehdi, the old washer woman over on low pole street. Said he was "discreetly looking for people of means." I'm a foreigner. And what with my blood, I might be able to qualify. Perhaps they need a dragonshard identified, found up here in the Blackcaps. I could make five dragons for a job like that! I could make rent, so old man Tossler doesn't throw me on the street. I don't want to go back to Xandrar...that place was a hole worse than Black pit.

My tattoo grew another branch. It's just above my left shoulder blade. Small, but they always start out that way. This one showed up on the road...I left Xandrar on my last delivery for Speckman's fishing, and brought it to Minuta's board. When I got upstairs, I noticed it in the mirror as I was readying to wash myself in the bowl. There was blood around it again. I think this thing inside me may eventually kill me.

-6th Rhaan-
I don't recall what happened. But I woke up, wearing only my small-clothes, under the docks on the lake.

I haven't blacked out since I was seventeen. I hope it's not happening again.

Captain Skellerang was indeed in need of some discreet help. He not only called me, but several other...individuals.

There is a quiet halfling...Beauregard. He seems well intentioned, the type to listen, and just...absorb. His eyes cut through the room, and I feel an intelligence lies hidden behind that quite demeanor. I fear what he may say about me when he grows comfortable with As mom used to say, "Your father can't hide nothing from me. I know when he spent his earnings, the moment I seen him coming up the walk. It's in his step." This little man reminds me of mom. This shouldn't bother me so, but I keep getting chills when I look at him.

Three is a warforged. A unique 'forged. I've never seen one so...earthy? No. It's like he's made of more quartz than wood, more crystal than metal. He's from somewhere east of Breland. The Ashen spires, in Karrnath, I think, or perhaps Jalenta, but I can't quite tell by his accent. Never was good with those. Spent too much time with foreign languages. I like him. He has this...calmness, this order about him that I feel I need. I'm sure he could keep my room picked up and clean! Mother would like him, if he were human. Father? Father hates 'forged.

Zevon...he's a young boy. Local, I think. Big arms. Just the kind of boy Birendra always swooned over. Eyes you get lost in, and not unintelligent. He seems to be...dreamy. Like he can't believe he's here, rather than baking bread or something. He's good in a pinch, though.

Lumen is a giant of a woman. She wields an enormous sword with quite a deal of skill. She did do...something...arcane, though. Perhaps it was my imagination, as she is obviously a warrior. Honestly, I've been too intimidated to really speak to her yet. She doesn't seem very...feminine. Probably grew up with all brothers. Makes me glad I had Birendra for a sister. Sometimes. I wish I could tell her I'm sorry. I miss her laugh. It sounded like a braying ass.

Then there is Daxur. Mother would call it my 'disgusting obsession with creatures that live in holes'. Whatever it is, he is one of the most refined creatures - people, really, that I have ever met. He followed me last night. Perhaps he cared for me. Or protected others from me, I don't know. He's a wizard. He speaks with "diction, poise and pacing", like the actors in the plays about the Heirs of Dhakaan. Reminds me of being a girl, thrilled by the mock battles on stage. They seemed so real. Yet now they seem...

I can't seem to hold my temper.

Skellerang told us to speak with Priestess Jenna Urikas of the Sovereign host. I'm sure she'll be all 'praise this breeze, and if I fart, give us tithe'. Apparently some citizens have gone missing. Skellerang is investigating, but Jenna is investigating the disappearance of three orphans from the Lantern street orphanage. Children missing. So we went to speak with her.

We encountered a group of miscreants dressed as fools, beating another sovereign host priest. My zealous compatriots decided to intervene. I did not want to, but thinking that this group may have had something to do with the children..they have no parents. There is no worse hell for a child than to not have your parents.

I saw a woman creeping on the roof, face painted like a Marches whore, and I blasted her. I've never used this ability on a person before. I thought it would feel different than blowing up glasses and aspens and pottery.

It did. It really did.

We took her to a warehouse and interrogated her, while some idiot kobold bilked us out of some of our money. I wanted to scream in her face till I was raw. I wanted to weep. Lilly was her name. No fear. No guilt. My blood was pounding all evening, and by the time we chose to haul her off to the knights of the Host, I had a headache worse than the time Thad Mellor got us that Carrion brandy that was supposedly from the wastes tribes.

I - mimicked - a spell Daxur cast. It makes people fall asleep. It didn't work perfectly, but I did it. This felt like water on my lips from a crystal spring in the Deep woods, whereas my...blood...always feel like the scouring salt of the Eldeen bay.

We took the prisoners to the Host's temple. I recall standing from my seat as Jenna interviewed us. I remember stairs. Lots of them. So many stairs I thought they would never end. I remember hitting my head. There was this great...eye. Bloody eye. I remember scaring a mother milking her baby on her porch. I remember blood. Not my blood. It was a pool of it, red, with a light shining off it.

And I remember the most...euphoric, sensual tension. Like dawn in a bowl, with sugar and rice cakes with cinnamon for breakfast, for the rest of your life.

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