M'ara's page

Flight - Featherfall at will
Cackle
Misfortune (1 foe in 30ft takes lower of 2d20 for rolls Will DC 13)
Evil Eye
Fortune
Slumber

1
Cause Fear
Charm Person
Cure Light Wounds
Mage Armor
Sleep
Summon Monster I

0
Dancing Lights,
Detect Magic
Daze

1

Mage Armor
Sleep

Temon CR –
Silvanshee (Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 2 21)
NG Tiny outsider (agathion, extraplanar, good)
Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, low-light vision; Perception +16
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Defense
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AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 17 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +2 size)
hp 32 (2d10+2)
Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +8; +4 vs. poison
Defensive Abilities improved evasion; DR 5/evil or silver; Immune electricity, petrification; Resist cold 10, sonic 10; SR 13
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft., fly 90 ft. (good)
Melee bite +8 (1d3-4), 2 claws +8 (1d2-4)
Space 2½ ft.; Reach 0 ft.
Special Attacks deliver touch spells, heroic strength, pounce
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 2nd; concentration +3)
. . Constant—know direction, speak with animals, speak with animals
. . At will—dancing lights, prestidigitation, stabilize
. . 1/day—dimension door (self plus 5 lbs. of objects only)
. . 1/week—commune (6 questions, CL 12th)
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Statistics
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Str 3, Dex 15, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 13
Base Atk +4; CMB +4; CMD 10 (14 vs. trip)
Feats Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse
[b]Skills Acrobatics +11, Climb +7, Fly +21, Heal +9, Knowledge (arcana) +11, Knowledge (planes) +11, Perception +16, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +19, Use Magic Device +9; Racial Modifiers +4 Acrobatics, +4 Perception, +4 Stealth
Languages Celestial, Draconic, Infernal; speak with animals, speak with animals, speak with animal (same kind only), speak with master, truespeech
SQ cat's luck, empathic link, lay on hands (1d6, 2/day), spectral mist
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Special Abilities
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Cat's Luck +1 (1/day) (Su) Add Charisma modifier as a luck bonus to saves.
Damage Reduction (5/evil or silver) You have Damage Reduction against all except Evil or Silver attacks.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white only).
Deliver Touch Spells (Su) Deliever master's touch spells.
Empathic Link (Su) You have an empathic link with your master.
Energy Resistance, Cold (10) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Cold attacks.
Energy Resistance, Sonic (10) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Sonic attacks.
Fly (90 feet, Good) You can fly!
Heroic Strength +8 (1/day) (Su) Grants itself a +8 enhancement bonus to Str for 1 minute.
Immunity to Electricity You are immune to electricity damage.
Immunity to Petrification You are immune to Petrification.
Improved Evasion (Ex) No damage on successful reflex save; half on failed save.
Lay on Hands (1d6, 2/day) (Su) You can heal 1d6 damage, 2/day
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail.
Poison Resistance +4 (Ex) You have the listed resistance to poison.
Pounce (Ex) You can make a full attack as part of a charge.
Share Spells Spells with a target of "You" can be delivered by a familiar with a range of touch.
Speak With Animals (Su) Speak with animals as a free action, without sound.
Speak with Animals of its Kind (Ex) You can communicate verbally with animals similar to yourself.
Speak with Master (Ex) You can communicate verbally with your master.
Spectral Mist (5 minutes/day) (Su) As gaseous form, but retain own DR, speed, and supernatural abilities.
Spell Resistance (13) You have Spell Resistance.
Truespeech (Su) Speak with any creature that has a language.

M'ara wakes lying on wet rock.
Rain falls steadily, washing away a residue of ochre symbols on the rock beneath her.
Naked, she stands in the rain; she remembers nothing of the ritual, knowing only that it bound to her a spirit whose nature mirrored her own and whose mysterious power she now could wield.
She noted the familiar sigils and markings; a legacy of an ancient Empire, Thassilon. Her people still used the language of those powerful people in secrets that she'd only recently been
avowed to.

Memories of childhood learning at her Kholi's knee, the patterns of wind and soil, the movements of the herd and flock, the power of the spirits above and below.
Her burgeoning knowledge and intuition pleased and worried her Kholi, for she was pre-imminent in their tribe, but M'ara was soon to be her match.

No one tribe could contain two Kholi of equal power, M'ara well knew and her Kholi had many, many years of life left to her.
Unwilling to be the cause of strife within the tribe and also not able to forsake her ability and connection with the spirit world, M'ara told the Kholi that she would undergo the Ghavii ritual, a ritual shorning from the tribe and also a final joining to her spirit guide; an absolute break, her destiny would be hers alone, not sharing that of her tribe and family.

And so the days long journey across the plains to the rock of elders, a weathered spire of rock rising from the flat earth, a sacred place. Though she does not remember, the ritual would have taken some days to complete, the final step leaving her alone on the flat rock to face the elements, to awaken and live or to succumb and die.

Turning about, M'ara takes in the vista of her home, grassy plains extending in all directions. A deep breath, then smiling, she sees her pack and other possessions sitting dry under a tree. Settling in the dry protection of the tree, she takes some food from the pack and eats, the ritual had left her famished.

Satiated for now, M'ara then waits as the rain continues to fall, washing away all remnants of the Ghavii ritual. Satisfied that no echoes of that magic remained, M'ara walked out into the drizzle and sat at the very edge of the rock.

There she entered into a trance and allowed her spirit-self to roam the savannah, seeking the companion who would help guide her on her journey out into the world.

In her spirit-journey she passed many spirits, wise turtles, clever foxes, and inscrutable hill cats; finally, she had stopped to admire a particularly picturesque scene, a small meadow bordering a spring fed creek.
In the meadow, a number of rabbits fed on succulent grasses under the bright sun. Suddenly a dark shape plummeted from the sky, impaling a rabbit on its razor sharp talons.

A plains hawk. M'ara thrilled at the majesty of the proud bird as it tore into the unfortunate rabbit's flesh. Stopping in mid-meal, the hawk turned its sharp gaze upon M'ara's ghostly form. < You'll do > a sardonic voice said in her mind.

Opening her eyes to the real world, the rain has lifted and M'ara lifts her eyes to the sky and sees high above a pinprick slowly revolving around the sun.

In a blink, the small dot descends and reveals itself to be a beautiful plains hawk, which flares its magnificent wings and settles quietly upon M'ara's upraised hand.

M'ara says "Greetings, I thank you for choosing to join me and sharing my destiny. I believe we shall call you ... Shivi (fierce in M'ara's language)"

From the bird, M'ara feels a sense of acceptance and love; and is thankful to have this beautiful animal as her companion.
Rising, M'ara allows the bird to launch into the sky. Gathering her pack, she dresses and arranges her weapons and ensures her fetishes and charms are situated appropriately.
Striding down the path to the plains, she glances skyward and smiles as she sees Shivi pacing her high above.

Reaching the flat earth of the plain, she sets off Southward, toward the lands lost to Varisians and Chelish invaders.

Her travels first took her to the city of Kaer Maga, where she was shocked by the sheer size of the town, huge and bustling in comparison with her tribe’s small nomadic villages. Awed by the number of cultures represented in the chaotic city, she quickly passed through the City of Strangers and made her way down the escarpment to the town of Sirathu. In this smaller municipality, M'ara was able to relax among a community of her own kind for a time.

Many months later she had travelled to Magnimar , where she rested on the steps of one of the many massive stone houses in that city; that the most curious thing happened to her.

Quietly eating some street food, a shadow fell over her and a number of coins was tossed into her lap. Looking up startled, M'ara saw a plainly dressed woman with a basket of laundry at her hip looking at her expectantly.
Seeing the question in M'ara’s eyes and glancing warily at the hawk sitting on her shoulder, the woman said “If you please, read my lines?” Not sure she understood, she was still learning the nuances of the common trader tongue, M'ara asked “What you mean, Lines?” The woman, held out her hand and with her index finger traced the creased on her palm,” You read my lines, tell me my future.”
Astonished, M'ara began to deny the woman, and then remembered the coins in her lap. With a bright smile, M'ara signalled the woman to sit to her left. The woman put down her basket and sat, looking at M'ara with relief.
Taking up the woman’s hands in hers, M'ara began her “reading”.

She had seen displays such as this before; the mystic telling the customer what they wanted to hear, providing simple reassurance for a few coins.

M'ara made sure that she did not draw upon her patron's strength to augment her performance, to do so would be disrespectful. No she kept this a performance, an act, one that has led to many such performances as she travelled through Varisia; allowing her to almost always have a place to sit and earn enough coin to feed herself for the day .

One day M'ara was following her familiar when Shivi led her to the waterfront. Finding Shivi preening himself before a particular ship, presently loading cargo.
Cocking an eyebrow at the hawk, M'ara said “Am I to take passage on this ship?” As always, Shivi merely looked inscrutable and smug. With a smile, M'ara walked up to the man organizing the loading of cargo and inquired as to the destination of the ship and if he were taking on passengers.

With a frown, the man told M'ara that unfortunately the ship was taking on water and all passengers and cargo were begin transfered to a caravan heading the same way out side of town.

With a look at Shivi, M'ara bade the man thanks and made her way to the caravan grounds.

There she found a chaotic swirl of men and cargo as room was found for the new additions.

Managing to catch the attention of one of the shouting men, M'ara arranged for herself to accompany the caravan on it's winding way up the coast. Eventually, M'ara's journey ended at
a town called Sandpoint, just in time for the Swallowtail Festival, and the rededication of the new Temple.

There she joined with other like minded people to fend off the attack on the town by vicious Goblins. Later , enjoying tales and stores with them in the tavern, M'ara sadly realized that she did not share
their destiny, said her goodbye's and left. She continued her journey up the coast, meeting up with a group of Pathfinders investigating old Thassilonian ruins. Revealing that she knew the old language of
that forgotten Empire, she joined the group on their explorations.

As she journeyed with the Pathfinders, she found occastion to exercise her 'Harrowing' skills on those who wished it, but slowly put aside that pastime to devote more study and meditation on her revealed mystical patron:Time.
Puzzled, as she'd assumed that some aspect of the Moon would have been her muse, she nonetheless embraced the mysteries the were slowly revealed.

Many an adventure was had in the company of the intrepid Pathfinders:
- uncovering a foul necromancer in the swams of The Mushfens
- negotiating with a good...but greedy, dragon high in the Calphiak Mountains
- bringing them to her home high in the highlands, allowing them to study the sacred places there; and mistakenly releasing and fighting a powerful servant of the Thassilonians,
- lastly an old mention in a memoir brought the group to an old estate at the border of the Ashwood. Indeed it had been build upon a Thassilonian ruin, that ran for some distance underground.

It was on the last endeavour that M'ara lost Shivi. Shaken and lost, it was all her companions could do to bring her to the surface to recuperate on the surface. Teary eyed, M'ara longed to return
to her homeland, to commune with the spirits there, perhaps to somehow bring Shivi back to her.

Her dreams that night were mirrors of her initial ritual , sitting in mediation....waiting for a spirit to deign to notice her.

The dream continued...with M'ara as an observer, watching herself , high on top of the sacred place....a swirl of spirits around her, until something like a gust of wind blew all but one away...a small cat calmly licking is
paw. It looked up at M'ara....the observer, and said, "Shivi loved you...but you've grown too powerful for him. I love you too....shall we?"

Sitting up, M'ara was not suprised to find the cast nestled between her legs, purring, "Hello, Temon.... I love you too.". The cat acknoweledged the obvious with a tilt of an ear and a sleeping glance, then curled up
in a tighter ball and resumed it's slumber.

Murmuring, "I loved you too, Shivi...." M'ara also returned to sleep, the connection between herself and her new familliar solidifing during the night.

If the Pathfinders were surprised by the appearance of a new animal companion they were too polite to do so. Made whole once more, M'ara accompanied the Pathfinders back into the dungeon...

Many days later, a successful enterprise finished, M'ara finds herself in Turtleback Ferry waving goodbye to her friends of many months. Shivi's death had shaken her, leading her to reevaluate her path.
I seemed right to part ways with her friends and seek new adventures with her new companion , Temon.