(Mage Armor, +2 AC 1/6); DR 10/magic vs. ranged weapons (40pts); Fort+6, Ref+3, Will+5 (+2 vs. enchantments, immune sleep, resist cold 5)
About Sorin Saldward
The Lady’s Wagging Tongue heeled over as the cooler land breeze coming off the Chelaxian coast finally lost its war with the steady, warm winds of the Inner Sea. The sails luffed for a moment, then snaped full once more as the ropes creaked and groaned under the changing tension. At the same moment, a weight seemed to lift from the ship, as while there is always profit from trading in Cheliax, it is always best to remember that the overt rules can be superseded by the covert rules, thus treading lightly is key to survival.
I headed back to the Lady’s stern, my accustomed place, to watch the land slide below the horizon once more. I was surprised however to see that I had company this time, a young man, dressed in simple travelling clothes, his dark hair not quite hiding the slight point on his ears. As I stood beside him, I could see his pale hands, ink stained in places, gripping the railing with some force, though whether it was rage or fear, I could not say at that moment.
"It is odd.", he observed in a cold clear voice, "It is odd to see the place of ones' birth slide away. Slipping beneath the horizion as if swallowed by the earth below." He turned toward me and I could see it then: the anger of a young man, clear in his eyes. "What do you see when you look out over our wake, sailor?"
"I see the past.", I said pointedly. "Ships, move only in one direction, forward. Ships also only go where the winds take them. An argument can be made that a ship can sail anywhere, but I say that if you sail a ship directly into the wind you only end up in irons." Realizing that the passenger might not recognize the term, I quickly added, "Irons is when the ship stops moving because it is forcing its way against the wind in the sails." I scratched my nose in thought. "I always say that sailing is the best metaphor for life."
The man was silent for a moment. ”The towers are all that you can make out of the city now. Like claws scratching against the sky… That is my first memory, the filth of the street beneath those towers. Constantly hiding, starving, fearing…until I was caught like an animal. Bah, I was an animal then.” He paused for a moment, and then continued, anger causing his voice to creak. ”It was a bet. I was a bet. Two houses, who I will not name for your safety, bet on me, on my ability to survive and take education. Like I was a horse in a race, or a rat in a maze. There were twenty of us at the beginning, and can only assume that I was the only survivor, I know not where my brothers and sisters are now.” He turned to look at me with his cold eyes.
”Those towers, they will fall, as assuredly as they sink from our view. I do not intend to allow the ravages of time accomplish the deed however. I will bring them down. I will drive the devils away, mortal and immortal both. This will be the last time that I see those shores before I am ready to bring their world to an end. I go from here to seek the knowledge and power I require for my task. As you say, I go where the winds take me, which for now, is to Varisa.” He turned away to the horizon, now devoid of land.
”You might think me a fool for telling you this, but in all honestly what do you care? If I fail, I will be a corpse rotting somewhere. If I succeed…you can say that you met me, Sorin Saldward, once.” He fell silent, and to be honest, I had no idea what to say, but I was going to try anyways.
”I hope you do suceed lad.” I began, ”The world would be a better place without their ilk mucking up everything. They spread fear like a disease…aye, I hope you do.”
The rat crossing my foot caused me to jump in startlement and curse. But before I moved, the rat had vanished down a knothole opening in a plank.
He laughed then at my startlement, a short sharp bark of humor that was quickly smothered. He was quiet for a moment more, his eyes gazing into the past instead of at the horizon. ”I admire them, you know…rats. Always have since I was a child. Oh their teeth and claws can cause disease, I know, but I have seen the warrens that they build, the way that they work together, the way that they take care of their rat pups. I have also seen a rat face down a dog several times its size. I always think of that…how that rat was so fearless and dedicated, that it was able to force the dog away with its will alone. That being said...I hope the ship’s cat does its job.”, a smile caught on the corner of Sorin's mouth.
”I agree sir, I agree! Its all fine to admire them, but if they are fouling our water or eating our food, then they aren’t much more than pests to be destroyed. They can certainly ruin a trip! How about I tell you about this trading trip I was on aboard the Silver Wave. The ship got infested with these flying spiders…big as your hand they were! First time we noticed them it was on a day much like this, heading out of port…”
He had last seen his family almost a month previous, just before the testing had begun, when one by one the servitors of House Drovenge would arrive and call them by name for the testing. There was an uncomfortable lack of memories from that time. The next recollection was of finding himself, clothed for travelling, pack in hand, standing in the filth of the main street of Corentyn, the gaping and crooked towers of the old nobility around him, reaching towards the sky like a crone's fingers.
Of his siblings, his only family, there was no trace. He had searched, had spent some of his money asking questions of shadowy persons in dark alleys. His investigations came to naught. He wasn’t even able to divine where he had been held for most of his adult life, nor if he was even in the same city that he and his family had been captive in. There were no answers for him so the only option was for him to move forward.
And with that, he settled on the plan that he had begun nary a month ago, a plan of revenge. It had begun with a single mention in a musty alchemic tome that he had been studying. In the middle of a recipe for a potent Varisan speciality: Lamashan cider-ale, the author suddenly began writing something else entirely. It was a scribbling, a terse reference to a weapon of power that could shatter creatures of other-worlds, not banishing them, but utterly destroying them. Along with the annotation was the stanza of a poem:
cream twisted Jade Edge
she danced through the twilight
nightmares fall like leaves
Then the recipe continued where it had left off. It was as if the mention of the weapon had been hidden in the book specifically for him to discover and discern. He had torn the page out of the tome and shoved it in his journal. Then, afraid of losing the poem, he had folded it up and placed it in his boot. When he had been dropped on the street by House Drovenge, it had been the first thing that he had looked for, and after a few moments of hopping around in one boot, he had found the folded piece of paper, exactly where he had placed it. To this day, the words on the page both reminded him of his family long past, and served as a lodestone pointing to a possible future. The page now resided safely tucked into the front cover of his journal.
Sorin was stuck in Sandpoint.
The last two years he had spent going up and down the Varisan coast in the caravan of Sandru Vhiski, a bright, shining scalliwag of a merchant and trader. At first serving as a caravan guard had seemed like an excellent idea to travel in relative safety while searching for leads to his mysterious riddle. And while he had learned much from Sandru about the way the world worked, and been the butt of many a practical joke, he was no closer to finding any clues.
While Sandru called Sandpoint home, Sorin never did. It was merely a place to wait while Sandru got the next caravan together. Sorin would spend his time digging among Brodert Quink’s books, occasionally arguing about various bits of Varisian history, as he searched for leads. Nights would find him in the Rusty Dragon, talking to any travelers, or staying up into the late nights, copying notes from one of Quink’s books into his journal. He would make the money from the caravan guard job last by occasionally helping out around the inn, scribing letters for townsfolk or tutoring children in mathematics and letters.
A slow creeping suspicion was beginning to overwhelm Sorin. He was beginning to suspect that he was never going to find a clue, that he was going to have to change tactics and find a new way forward. He knew in his heart that the jade edge, whatever it turned out to be, existed, somewhere in the wide world. He just needed to find a clue.
Description: A dark haired half-elf, lithe, but without the wiry strength that so many of his elven ancestors possessed. His hands and shirt-sleeves are stained with drips and spots of black ink. His eyes are brown and his skin is tanned from days of working under the sun. He dresses haphazardly and his hair is cut merely to keep it out of his eyes, not for the sake of beauty.
Personality: While innocent in some regards, it is an innocence of the heart rather than a naiveté of the mind. Sorin is piercingly intelligent and quickly sees to the heart of problems. While he might not always have the best answers to a particular problem, he has no difficulty breaking down complex tasks into manageable portions. He is also quite adept at divining the skills of others and has no problems asking for assistance or tutelage whenever possible.
Motivation: There are two major factors that drive Sorin forward through life. The first is a search to replace his family. The loss of his siblings has left him somewhat adrift in the world, and while he has given them up for lost, he has never forgotten what it felt like to belong to a family, even if that family was a gaggle of half-trained street magelings. Secondly Sorin searches for a way to end the possession of Cheliax. Having done extensive research into the history of his nation, he believes that the factor that has crushed the spirit of his nation and his people is that of the demons. Only by finding some method of ending that threat once and for all will his nation be saved, and the pain from the loss of his family assuaged.
Posession of interest: Of his few possessions, Sorin cherishes his spellbook and the scrap of poem from that first tome. However he will gladly lose either of those to ensure the safety of his journal. In a way, the journal serves as his way of making sense of his loss while simultaneously searching for any clue to the path that he has set before himself.
Male Half-Elf Wizard 6
LN Medium Humanoid (elf, human)
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; Perception +8
AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+2 Dex)
hp 30 (6d6+6)
Fort +7, Ref +4, Will +6; +2 vs. enchantments
Immune magic sleep; Resist fire 5, elven immunities
Speed 30 ft.
Melee Cold Iron Dagger +3 (1d4/19-20/x2) and
. . Quarterstaff +3 (1d6/x2)
Ranged Light crossbow +5 (1d8/19-20/x2)
Wizard Spells Prepared (CL 6):
3 (3/day) Haste (x2), Dispel Magic, Chain of Perdition
2 (4/day) Flaming Sphere (DC 16), Knock, Bull's Strength, Web (DC 16), XProtection from Arrows
1 (4/day) Protection from Evil, XXMage Armor (x2), Grease (DC 15), Feather Fall (DC 15)
0 (at will) Flare (DC 14), Light, Detect Magic, Spark (DC 14)
Str 10, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 18, Wis 13, Cha 12
Base Atk +3; CMB +3; CMD 15
Feats Arcane Builder (Wands), Combat Casting, Craft Wand, Eschew Materials, Great Fortitude, Scribe Scroll, Skill Focus (Spellcraft)
Traits Caravan Guard (Sandru)
Skills Fly +6, Knowledge (arcana) +13, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +9, Knowledge (engineering) +9, Knowledge (geography) +11, Knowledge (history) +9, Knowledge (local) +9, Knowledge (nature) +9, Knowledge (nobility) +8, Knowledge (planes) +10, Knowledge (religion) +8, Linguistics +10, Perception +8, Profession (scribe) +5, Sense Motive +3, Spellcraft +16, Survival +8; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception
Languages Common, Draconic, Elven, Giant, Infernal, Orc, Skald, Tien, Varisian
SQ +2 to fortitude saves, arcane bonds (abrogail, rat), deliver touch spells through familiar, elf blood, empathic link with familiar, energy absorption (18 hp/day), opposition schools (enchantment, necromancy), protective ward (7/day), resistance 5 (fire), share spells with familiar, speak with familiar, specialized schools (abjuration)
Combat Gear Extend metamagic rod (lesser) (3/day), Scroll of Alarm, Scroll of Endure Elements, Scroll of Grease, Scroll of Mage Armor, Scroll of Mage Armor, Scroll of Mage Armor, Scroll of Mage Armor, Scroll of Summon Monster I, Scroll of Summon Monster I, Scroll of Summon Monster I; Other Gear Cold Iron Dagger, Crossbow bolts (30), Light crossbow, Quarterstaff, Handy haversack (10 @ 26.88 lbs), Bedroll, Blanket, Blanket, winter, Cold weather outfit, Ink, black, Inkpen, Paper (7), Scroll case (2 @ 0 lbs), Scroll case (2 @ 0 lbs), Scroll case (3 @ 0 lbs), Scroll case (3 @ 0 lbs), Spellbook (2), Travelling spellbook, Vial, Waterproof bag (10 @ 6.5 lbs), Waterproof bag (4 @ 2.5 lbs), 36 GP, 8 SP
+2 to Fortitude saves You gain the Alertness feat while your familiar is within arm's reach.
Abjuration The abjurer uses magic against itself, and masters the art of defensive and warding magics.
Arcane Builder (Wands) You have an exceptional understanding of the theory behind creating magical items. Select one type of magic item (potions, wondrous items, and so on). You create items of this type 25% faster than normal, and gain a +4 bonus on Spellcraft checks (or
Cold weather outfit +5 Fort save vs. cold weather.
Combat Casting +4 to Concentration checks to cast while on the defensive.
Damage Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Cold attacks.
Deliver Touch Spells Through Familiar (Su) Your familiar can deliver touch spells for you.
Elf Blood You are counted as both elven and human for any effect relating to race.
Elven Immunities +2 save bonus vs Enchantments.
Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Empathic Link with Familiar (Su) You have an empathic link with your Arcane Familiar.
Enchantment You must spend 2 slots to cast spells from the Enchantment school.
Energy Absorption (18 Hp/day) (Su) Absorb 3x wizard level energy damage per day.
Eschew Materials Cast spells without materials, if component cost is 1 gp or less.
Extend metamagic rod (lesser) (3/day) Metamagic rods hold the essence of a metamagic feat, allowing the user to apply metamagic effects to spells (but not spell like abilities) as they are cast. This does not change the spell slot of the altered spell. All the rods described here are use-activated (but casting spells in a threatened area still draws an attack of opportunity). A caster may only use one metamagic rod on any given spell, but it is permissible to combine a rod with metamagic feats possessed by the rod's wielder. In this case, only the feats possessed by the wielder adjust the spell slot of the spell being cast.
Possession of a metamagic rod does not confer the associated feat on the owner, only the ability to use the given feat a specified number of times per day. A sorcerer still must take a full-round action when using a metamagic rod, just as if using a metamagic feat he possesses (except for quicken metamagic rods, which can be used as a swift action).
The wielder can cast up to three spells per day that are extended as though using the Extend Spell feat. Lesser metamagic rods can be used with spells of 3rd level or lower.
Requirements: Craft Rod, Extend Spell feat; Cost 1,500 gp
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Necromancy You must spend 2 slots to cast spells from the Necromancy school.
Protective Ward (7/day) (Su) Create 10' radius field granting allies +1 (+1 / 5 levels) AC bonus.
Resistance 5 (Fire) (Ex) You gain Fire Resistance 5.
Share Spells with Familiar Can cast spells with a target of "You" on the familiar with a range of touch.
Speak With Familiar (Ex) You can communicate verbally with your familiar.
LN Tiny Magical Beast ((animal))
Init +2; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +7
AC 17, touch 14, flat-footed 15 (+2 Dex, +2 size, +3 natural)
hp 15 (1d8)
Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +6
Speed 15 ft., climbing (15 feet), swimming (15 feet)
Melee Bite (Rat) +7 (1d3-4/x2)
Space 2 ft.; Reach 0 ft.
Str 2, Dex 15, Con 11, Int 8, Wis 13, Cha 2
Base Atk +3; CMB +3; CMD 9 (13 vs. Trip)
Feats Weapon Finesse
Skills Acrobatics +2 (-6 jump), Climb +10, Fly +6, Linguistics +2, Perception +7, Spellcraft +5, Stealth +18, Survival +4, Swim +10; Racial Modifiers +4 Stealth
Languages SQ improved evasion
Other Gear You have no money!
Climbing (15 feet) You have a Climb speed.
Improved Evasion (Ex) No damage on successful reflex save; half on failed save.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Scent (Ex) Detect opponents within 15+ feet by sense of smell.
Swimming (15 feet) You have a Swim speed.
Special: Protective Ward
Sorin kneels in the dirt, his finger sketching a silver-white fire on the bare ground as he chants under his breath. In seconds, the densly packed writing has coalesed into a silvery pool, from which a silvery tendril rises, and wraps around Sorin's arm. Sorin raises his arm over his head before bringing his palm down to slap the pool spewing the radiance outwards. As Sorin stands, the droplets coalesce into a circle with arcane writing around the periphery that moves with Sorin in the center.
Another quick word, and Sorin taps Pavel's shield, causing it to glow with a strong yellow light.
Sorin spits out a quick, tounge twisting word, then strikes his fingers together as if using a flint and steel to make a spark.
1: Enlarge Person
Tendrils of silver snake across Sorin's hand before rolling into a small, seed-like ball. Taking careful aim, he makes a motion like flicking an apple pip, causing the glittering seed to flip through the air and land on his target. In an instant the seed sprouts, and as the tendrils expand, so does the person, until his head brushes the ceiling and his club is nearly as large as the bear cub. As soon as the growth ends, the silver vines fall away as glittering motes and vanish.
1: Flare Burst
A whistling white streak of light shoots from Sorin's hands and flies to a point where it pops, forming a dazzling globe of silver light.
White embers puff from Sorin's hands and for the briefest of instances the air fills with the smell of cooking bacon.
1: Mage Armor
Sorin begins murmuring under his breath. His hands sketch through the air, tracing what appears to be three links in a chain. The chains shrink to the size of a thumb then rapidly duplicate into a fine silvery mesh, that wraps around Sorin and vanishes, leaving a fine metallic sheen on his clothes.
1: Summon 1
Sorin stops muttering the words of the incantation and stands up as a thread of light arcs like a jet of water from the center of the summoning circle to a point directly before the ogre. There is a clap of thunder as the air is suddenly displaced by the appearance of a shimmering white hound, which immediately leaps to attack the humanoid.
ooc]Celestial Hound smite evil +2 dmg (2hit dice)/ooc]
ooc]Free Trip attempt if hit vs. CMD /ooc]dice]1d20+3/dice]
1: Protection from Evil
As Sorin begins a low droning chant, he removes a small bell from his sleeve and holding the stem with his index finger and thumb, rings it vigorously. The shimmering peal of the bell fills the cave and for an instant, seeming to push back against all other noise. Minute runes pop into existence around the bell, forming a web of light. Sorin moves to stand behind Pavel, and when he steps close, touches him with the bell, causing the globe of runes to pop like a bubble, then swirl around Pavel to form a glowing ring on the ground beneath his feet.
Protection from Evil: The subject gains a +2 deflection bonus to AC and a +2 resistance bonus on saves. Both these bonuses apply against attacks made or effects created by evil creatures.
2: Bull Strength
His hands finishing the complex design, a ghostly outline of a large aurochs flares into existance. The summoned figment of Strength then walks into Raith, causing ghostly inverted horns hang from Raith's brow for the barest moment, before vanishing.
2: Protection from Arrows
He then extracts a small shard of tortoise shell and murmuring words under his breath, scribes tiny glowing runes on its surface. The moment the surface of the shell is covered, he flicks the shell, causing ghostly outlines of tortoise shells to fly out and take up station in a softly glowing sphere around him.
Sorin begins a low thrumming chant, a humming clicking rhythmic sound almost as if he is clicking his teeth together very quickly. He moves his hands through several permutations before, with a snap, his hands are covered by what looks like spun cotton or yarn. He gently extricates his hands from the ball, then with an underhand toss, throws it out between the wagons and the bridge, where it explodes with a soft pop, sending out hundreds of fine sticky threads between the two wagons and the bridge.
2: Scorching Ray
Hands cupped together, Sorin begins chanting in a guttural, sibilant tongue. As he intones, his hands slowly fill with what appears to be molten rock, waves of heat and small flickers of flame dance across his fingers. Then, like a cobra rising to strike, the flame slithered out of Sorin's cupped hands, wove back and forth for a moment then streaked like a lance of fire away from Sorin towards his target.