Nothing about Septimus Smythe is particularly worth remembering. Of medium height and average build, Septimus could pass unnoticed in a crowd of one. His closely-cropped black hair looks much like that of thousands of other men in Ustalav; his plain brown eyes beg to be forgotten. Perhaps the only hint of his cunning and voracious mind is the cruel shape of his mouth, prone to frowns and looks of disdain. His finery has seen better days, and you get the sense that even on his best of days Septimus is somewhat ill-at-ease in his own skin. There’s also that strange clinking sound emanating from somewhere in his pack. Why does one man need to carry so much glass around with him on a daily basis?
Background (Teacher's Pet):
It was all downhill from there, in retrospect. The spellbinding lectures that made time’s heart itself seem to stop beating. The months buried in the basements of half-forgotten libraries, dredging up lore on creatures that even the old wives’ tales no longer mentioned. The late nights down at the Bloody Cup, listening to the old man’s stories, half drunk on ale and half on knowledge. It all seemed so much more interesting than simple medicine. Simple, safe, respectable medicine. Damn you, Professor Lorrimor. Damn you!
Tonight, Septimus Smythe sits in an altogether different tavern, far removed from the comfortable halls of Lepidstadt, drinking his way through another week in another provincial town. To the common folk here he’s a doctor, sure. Until someone catches a glimpse of the makeshift lab in his room, that is. Until someone smells formaldehyde above the stench of sour wine. Until someone looks a little too closely at his papers, and sends word to the University. After that he’s not a doctor anymore. Oh no. He’s a crook. A swindler. A few months back, one of these backwater bumpkins even had the temerity to call him a pervert!
It’s not Septimus’s fault. If Professor Lorrimor hadn’t been the Vebernsk Visiting Lecturer of Natural Sciences the fall semester of his final year at the University of Lepidstadt, it all would have been just fine. He would have been a doctor, a real doctor, like his father. He would have had a nice townhouse in a nice city with nice cobblestone streets. Instead, Lorrimor enraptured him. And worse yet, that cursed old man took Septimus under his wing, aiding and abetting him in the study of his newfound passion for strange and exotic creatures. Aided and abetted him straight into failure, more like. Five years later, Septimus has little to show for his studies but a long history of nearly being run out of various villages on rails, minus appendages, or with non-consensual aviary accoutrements affixed to his person.
Yet, over yet another mug of frankly rancid porter, Septimus Smythe can’t help but feel himself tearing up a little as he reads the obituary notice in the battered Lepidstadt broadsheet that he found in the common room. Who left that here, anyway? Maybe one of the local sheep. They seem more apt to be able to read than the people, anyhow. Septimus squints. Maybe it’s the beer, but maybe…
The old man – dead? Being a man of no fixed address, Septimus is hardly surprised that this news has reached him late. He’s more surprised to find himself mulling whether a trip back to the (relative) civilization of Ravengro might actually be worth it. After all, there was that business in the winter a few years back when he ran in to Lorrimor, out on some no-doubt goodly errand, and…well, best not to dwell on that. Perhaps the man’s passing can help him find some measure of peace, if only in the form of a nice skin of wine atop the gravestone. Honestly, what does he have to lose? His cover here is getting a bit thin, and Ravengro’s as good as place as any to ply why passes for his trade.
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 17 Wis 10 Cha 12
Base Atk +1 CMB +1 CMD 14
Init +3, Move 30 ft
Starting Statistics - 25 Point Buy:
Str 11 (1 point used) Dex 16 (10 points used) Con 14 (5 points used) Int 15 (+2 human) (7 points used) Wis 10 (0 points used) Cha 12 (2 points used)
AC 16 [3 armor, 3 dexterity], Touch 13, Flat-Footed 13
HP: 17/18 (1d8+2 con - 10, 8)
Fort +5, Ref +6 , Will +0 (+2 vs poison)
Point-Blank Shot (+1 attack and damage with ranged weapons within 30 feet), Precise Shot (shoot or thrown ranged weapons into melee at no penalty), Brew Potion, Throw Anything (no penalty for improvised ranged weapons; +1 circumstance attack roles with thrown splash weapons)
Teacher’s Pet (+2 trait bonus to one knowledge skill, skill considered a class skill), Accelerated Drinker (may drink potion as a move rather than standard action as long as in-hand at start of turn)
Craft (Alchemy) +8 [+9 when actually creating an alchemical item], Disable Device +8, Handle Animal +4, Heal +5, Knowledge (Arcana) +8, Knowledge (Nature) +8, Knowledge (Dungeoneering)[class skill per trait] +10, Perception +5, Spellcraft +7, Use Magic Device +6
+2 to one ability score (intelligence), Medium size, Normal speed, Bonus feat, Skilled
Alchemy (3 extracts/day, 7 formulae known), Bomb (1d6+3, 4 splash, 4/day, Ref Half DC 13), Brew Potion (as bonus feat, brew potion of any formula known up to 3rd level, alchemist level as caster level), Mutagen (+2 natural armor, +4 alchemical bonus to physical stat at expense of -2 to mental stat, takes one hour to brew, last 10 minutes), Throw Anything (as bonus feat)