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Tulrin Endessell

Zaladrel Orain's page

584 posts. Alias of PirateDevon.


HP 9/9 AC:16 T:13 F:13 Saves F:+2 R:+3 W:+4 CMB:+0 CMD:13 Init:+3 Perception +3 Spell Pool: 3L/1F


Climb +1, Diplomacy +5, Heal + 5, K. Arcana +7, K. Planes +7, Sense Motive +5, Spellcraft +8*, Stealth +8, Swim +1, UMD +8

About Zaladrel Orain

Zaladriel Adzurazuradzanri Orain
Male Elven Hedgewitch 1
CG Med Humanoid (Elf)
Init +3; Senses low light vision, perception +3
AC 16, touch 13, flat 13 (+3 armor, +3 dex)
HP 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +4
Speed 30' (20' in armor)

Str 10, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 13
BAB +0; CMB +0; CMD 13
Feats Point Blank Shot
Languages Common, Elven, Celestial, Draconic, Sylvan, Varisian
Skills Climb +1, Diplomacy +5, Heal + 5, K. Arcana +7, K. Planes +7, Perception +3, Sense Motive +5, Spellcraft +8*, Stealth +8, Swim +1, UMD +8
SQ Arcane Tradition Benefits/Secrets, Elven Magic, Weapon Familiarity, Elven Immunities, FC Hedgewitch {+1 skill}
Resilient - +1 Fort Save
Spheres of Power
Life Sphere {Invigorate, Cure, Restore}
Fate Sphere {Word, Consecration}

Spell Pool {4}
Focus Casting Drawback {Holy Symbol}
Prepared Casting Drawback {Must pre-allocate SP per sphere each day}
Easy Focus Boon {Concentration of SOP abilities are Move actions instead of Standard actions}

Covenant Tradition {Aura of Good, Detect Alignment [Evil]}
See SOP on details of Tradition powers, page 81

Spiritualism Tradition {All Kno untrained. Roll all Kno checks twice, take highest.}

Long Sword [4]
10 Sling Bullets [10]
Studded Leather [20]
Ioun Torch
Kit: a backpack, a bedroll, a belt pouch, candles (10), a cheap holy text, a flint and steel, an iron pot, a mess kit, rope, soap, a spell component pouch, torches (10), trail rations (5 days), a waterskin, and a wooden holy symbol. [32]
Iron Holy Symbol

Zaladrel is tall, thin and fair like many of his people. His eyes are a vibrant sea green color and his hair tends to almost golden white which he keeps long and generally loose though he often ties it back when he knows hard work or fighting is on the way.

Zaladrel favors a less than subtle outfit of swirling black, blue, purple and white clothing layered about his armor in the style of many Varisians. In many ways he looks more the caravan member than a a divine practitioner but he wears his faith as proudly as his scarf and a well kept silver symbol of Desna loudly proclaim his nature.

Zaladrel tends towards smiling though in moments of thoughtful contemplation he can seem distant as those who try to understand the planes and heavens often do. He is quick to return however and his thirst for travel and his love of gambling and music generally keep him in high spirits.

As many elves go Zaladrel is more youthful and engaged and even impatient though this is in comparison to elves and so can still seem quieter and more thoughtful than companions from other races. In general Zaladrel strives to be warm and compassionate, offering aid where he can and stories and fortunetelling where he is welcome.

Like many followers of Desna, Zaladrel can be vocal about his commitment to the principles of liberty and freedom that the open road thrives on. To this end Zaladrel will not hesitate to fight those who seek to rob others of their goods, freedom, or lives and can be vocal when he feels that a situation or authority is being too restrictive. He does however try to temper his feelings with wisdom and acceptance so he is mostly able to keep himself out of trouble.


Zaladrel Orain was born to auspicious omens in sea side village of Arsmeril. Shooting stars and a full moon heralded the coming of Zaladrel as the mystic women and clerics worked about their business. It was as though the goddess Desna had painted the night time sky in celebration, or so Zaladrel's grandfather, Araisel, had told him. Yet for the first few years of his life, Zaladrel found it hard to believe that his life would be anything but cursed.

Zaladrel's mother was taken in his birth; the pregnancy was troubled and the strain too much to bear. A few years later Aroden fell and Zaladrel's grandmother succumbed to a curious and tenacious sickness brought on by the myriad storms that wracked the world when the immortal god seemed to end. In the period of confusion that followed, tensions arose and conflict marked the Mierani forest.

In his first 70 years Zaladrel lacked focus or enthusiasm. The despondency of his loss was made even greater when his father died as part of an expedition to Celwynvian, an ill fated event that cost the village many of its warriors. Moving from magical study, to academics to training in art, histories, and music, Zaladrel found no satisfaction. The loss of friends like Namuril Xae-Tal who left the village in the aftermath of the Celwynvian expedition, further proved to alienate Zaladrel from his people and cast doubt on his future.

Further attempts were made to press Zaladrel to work at his skills in woodcraft or ranging, glass working or fishing. All such efforts fell short and soon Araisel believed that despite living amongst his own kind, Zaladrel might yet become Forlorn like those elves who lived in far off lands cut off from the rich and thoughtful lives of elves. Araisel had once adventured however and so he came to formulate an unconventional solution.

Having ventured from Mierani Forest, Araisel had knowledge of the Varisian caravans, enthusiastic vagabonds who traded and traveled across the lands, and though the humans could be abrasive, they shared a common dedication to Desna that Araisel thought might prove useful. The village held too much turmoil and doubt so Araisel sought a different path so he might change Zaladrel's path towards despondency.

Taking up his grandson Araisel took Zaladrel out of the forest and offered him a life amongst the vibrant colors, bawdy singing and mystic secrets of the Varisians. Where as the Desnan faith was deep and contemplative amongst the elves: among humans that faith was more a celebration for the road and the freedom that came with it. For ten years the elves traveled about Varisia seeing Korvosa and Magnimar, Sandpoint and Riddle port and for those ten years Zaladrel worked odd jobs and odd hours. He learned the ways of the caravan from his companions and studied by candlelight ancient histories and traditions of long lost civilizations, theories and concepts of the arts along with math, science and mysticism.

Zaladrel developed a wide knowledge and an uncanny ability to recall information of all manner and stripe. The liability of a lacking focus became a tool in the life of the caravan and Zaladrel always found ways to make himself useful. As the years moved on Zaladrel came to appreciate the Desnan connection to the caravan and the human appreciation for change and loss. Zaladrel became hungry in his faith, and that faith was soon tested.

Upon his 95th birthday Zaladrel found his grandfather wan and weak. It was his time soon, the elder elf explained, and he wished to see his home one last time before moving on. Leaving the caravans they traveled back to the forest. The elder elf soon passed on and Zaladrel was still a young one and without a sure footing. Still humming with all that he had learned, Zaladrel took up with the clerics of Desna and threw himself into the faith.

The elves of Arsmeril often were put off by the heightened enthusiasm and vibrant demeanor of the Elven boy that they had known to be listless and quiet. Yet many amongst the clergy and the people saw that Zaladrel's enthusiasm was renewed and put his energy to good use. Over the next few years Zaladrel would learn of Desna's secrets, traveled to the ranger camps and the village of Crying Leaf and learned what purpose and value a true aspirant of Desna could offer a community and the travelers on the road. Despite all this Zaladrel still felt ill at ease and as soon as his rites of ritual were complete, he set out on the road and out of the forest.

For all the knowledge that he carried with him however, and for all the wisdom that he had cultivated, Zaladrel was still naïve. It was not long after leaving the forest that Zaladrel came across a caravan of carts and travelers that seemed none to happy to find an elven cleric wandering the roads. These travelers were Scarzini and saw an opportunity to strip this wandering fool of his money and gave some thought to pressing him into slavery on some far flung market were it not out of there way. Stripping Zaladrel of his possessions they threw the elf into the wild, laughing as they rode off down the road.

With no supplies and no food Zaladrel took to wandering the country side eager to find a settlement. Despite his best efforts his magic could not sustain his hunger and his skill could not inform his route. After many days of wandering with no food and no clothing a fever overtook Zaladrel and soon thereafter he lost all presence of mind to summon himself water. Depleted and starving Zaladrel wandered the woods and the road amidst a fevered haze of false visions and chaotic, veering, stumbling down hillsides and creek beds, further battered his frail and failing constitution.

Laying face down in a dried up ditch, the last of his wits and energy failing him, Zaladrel heard a sweet and singing voice surround him. Taken up into the sky Zaladrel flew towards the sun, the voice turned to many, the brightness faded to darkness and sleep engulfed him in a warm embrace as he knew that he had been brought Desna's bosom to forever be safe and cared for. The spirits of his family were calling him home.

Zaladrel awoke some hours later in a covered wagon adorned with fanciful colors and fabrics, smelling of sweet incense and warmed by soft lantern light. Adjusting to the surroundings Zaladrel body ached and his head pounded. After a few moments had passed Zaladrel realized he was not alone and saw a woman of dark complexion and a warm smile. Koya Mvashti was her name and it was her voice, not Desna, that had called to him in his fever.

Zaladrel and Koya spoke at length. She told him of stories and parables. Zaladrel spoke of his anxiety and his love of the road. A bond was forged in the lantern light that night and Zaladrel found in Koya a sort of maternal figure he had never quite known.

As the years passed Koya and Zaladrel became frequent allies and friends, sometimes in the same caravan and sometimes simply greeting each other warmly as their respective groups passed each other by. But alas Koya was all too human and all too soon her light made to pass, another spirit called to rest. In their final meeting the ailing Koya told Zaladrel of a dream, of hard yelling and chaos. A town with a strange form of prophecy, long thought lost in the world, and something much harder still to come.

Would he go? She asked him. The elf nodded and smiled. He patted old Koya's hand and said "Yes". His was a life of the road and soon she too would be a spirit in the places beyond that whispered in his ear. Out of respect for all that she had given and all that she might give in spirit, Zaladrel knew this was his next journey. The woman smiled, patted the elf's hand in response and told him where to go...

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