About Notick Mostriaré
Armor Class: 15, Touch: 12, Flatfooted: 13
Fortitude +3, Reflex +2, Will +2
Immunities: To magic sleep effects
Arcane Pool:(4 pnts)
Spell Combat: Can cast spells in 'off hand' with 'Two Weapon fighting' rules (-2 to all melee attacks, can take up to INT modifier if casting defensively and add it as a circumstance bonus to the concentration check.) Must be wielding light or one-handed weapon, off hand must be free to execute.
Spellstrike: Whenever a spell of 'touch' is cast, it can be delivered through any weapon that is wielded as part of a melee attack.
Ancestral Arms: Proficient with either a martial of exotic weapon of your choosing. (Falcata)
Elf Blood: Half-elves count as both elves and humans for any effect related to the race.
Elven Immunities: Half-elves are immune to magic sleep effects and get a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells and effects.
Keen Senses: Half-elves receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception skill checks.
Multi-talented: Half-elves can choose two favored classes(Magus and ____ )
Fast-Talker: Bluff becomes class skill (+1 Bluff)
Family Ties - While not ethnically a Varisian, you have been raised among Varisians and they consider you one of their own. Furthermore, you managed to get in good with a group of Sczarni and consider them your new family. After being run out of the last place your Sczarni family camped, you tracked down a friend of the family in Sandpoint—a ruthless thug named Jubrayl Vhiski at the Fatman’s Feedbag. During your time with the Sczarni, you learned a few tricks of the trade. You gain a +1 trait bonus on Knowledge (local) checks and Knowledge (local) is always a class skill for you. In addition, you begin play able to speak and read Varisian.
Spells Per Day: (3) 1st Level Spells
Cantrips(DC: 13): Acid Splash, Arcane Mark, Dancing Lights, Daze, (*)Detect Magic, Disrupt Undead, Flare, (*)Ghost Sound, (*)Light, (*)Mage Hand, Open/Close, Prestidigitation, Ray of Frost, (*)Read Magic, Spark.
1st Level(DC: 14): (*)Ray of Enfeeblement, Magic Missle, (*)Hydraulic Push, Grease, Burning Hands, (*)Enlarge Person, Frostbite, Vanish
Hot Weather Outfit
Travelers Outfit (packed)
Spell Component Pouch
Flint and Steel
Signet Ring (Desna's Symbol)
Loaded Dice (Superior)
(Total Weight of 56.5LBs (11LBs worth within backpack - all else either a Pouch or equipable items)
Eye color: Very bright emerald green
Hair: Long blond, with a low pony tail.
Other Features: His build is much like a Human's, firm and muscular, but he holds the attractive nature of the elves. His ears only slightly stick through his hair, enough to tell he is indeed partially elven.
Sitting in front of his usual place on Hook Street, Notick rolled his dice again as another passerby fresh off a boat from the Harbor tried their luck with his dice game. He grins as his loaded dice win him his hand, “OH! So close my good friend! Perhaps next time Lady Desna will be on your side!” The loser huffed and grumbled as they walked away from Sandport Harbor. He chuckled to himself as another unfortunate victim lost their coin purse to him to his almost unbeatable game. Notick’s smile disappeared from his face as he packed up his things, and immediately head towards the Fatman’s Feedbag. He hated swindling people of their money.
Turning the corner of Rum Street to Market Street, watching behind himself to ensure he isn’t being followed, he runs into someone and falls backwards to the ground. With a grunt, he retorts, “Watch where you’re going! You could have –” he stops when he notices Belor Hemlock, the sheriff of the city, looking down at him.
Belor stared daggers at the young half-elf, “Been swindling the newcomers again, have we Notick?”
The half-elf plants his hand upon the ground, standing from the dirt while dusting himself off. “I am afraid I haven’t any clue what you are talking about sheriff” doing his best to offer as vague and uncontrived of an answer as he could.
“Oh, of course you don’t” he sarcastically snorts. “Don’t think I’m not onto Vhiski. I know he’s up to no good here.”
“Why sheriff, I’m hurt! My uncle is an honorable business man of this fair town. He’s done nothing but to help it prosper!”
The boy flashed his usual sly grin, knowing the half-truths always saved his skin. Organized grime did help this town prosper, just not necessarily in the best of ways. He hated his uncle; there was no secret in it. He would never admit that to the sheriff, though. He’d probably just get used as a pawn on some scheme, and he’d rather just leave it alone. He was going to help bring Jubrayl Vhiski down in his own way.
That, in honest truth, was probably the only reason the sheriff never arrested him. He knew the boy was being forced into something outside of his own control. The Sheriff just crossed his arms across his broad chest and looked at the half-elf incredulously.
“Now if it is all the same, I must get about my errands Sheriff.”
The young man pushed past the Sheriff and continued down the street, almost in a run. He let out a sigh of relief.
After his mothers passing, he had no other family that he knew of other than his Uncle. That, unfortunately, wasn’t saying much. Everyone knows that Vhiski is the scum of Sandport – but no one could possibly pin it on him. He never knew his father, and his mother never talked of him much. Whenever he’d bring it up as a kid, she would always brush it off or smile and shake her head knowingly. She did, though, always talk about her Brother and his usual schemes.
Notick was a smart and charismatic person, but he was always so oblivious to the world. He used to be the bright smiled boy who’d charm all of the little girls. When his mother was murdered, he didn’t know what to do. All of that changed. When he found out that it could have possibly been one of his Uncles men… He had suspicions as to what he could have possibly gained by killing her, but it was the only logical answer he could ever come up with. That’s why he came here, after all. To, not only prove his Uncle’s hand in her death, but to put a stop to his crime ring. He’d been around the Sczarni too long, and it was time they be removed from any importance.
So, he set off to Sandpoint to join him… After all, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, right?!
Notick finally arrived at the Fatman’s Feedbag, and dropped his daily earnings in front of his uncle. “My earnings today, Uncle…” Before the man could say anything, Notick left and headed for his room. He sat on his bed and began reading one of the only things he had ever had from his father: his spellbook. He had learned many of the things himself, simply by following the spells. His mother had taught him sword craft as a boy – so it was only natural to him to utilize the two crafts together. He picked up the other heirloom, his father Flacata, and began to practice.
His determination for his goals driving each swing and spell infusion as he goes late into the night with his rigorous training regime.