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The author and former Pathfinder Society agent Ailson Kindler is the Ustalavic Van Hellsing/ Bram Stoker/ Van Richten figure.
It's said she became an adventurer to avenge the death of her sister. Do we know how her sister died or when?
She's an interesting figure and there doesn't seem to be much lore on her...
She also appears as a character in the Carrion Crown stories.
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The author and former Pathfinder Society agent Ailson Kindler is the Ustalavic Van Hellsing/ Bram Stoker/ Van Richten figure.
It's said she became an adventurer to avenge the death of her sister. Do we know how her sister died or when?
She's an interesting figure and there doesn't seem to be much lore on her...
That's about to change.
Ailson Kindler is a MAJOR character in Pathfinder Tales: Bloodbound. It's my first novel and I'm VERY excited about it. :D
The story goes deep—DEEP—into Kindler's background, her reasons for becoming a monster hunter, for joining the Pathfinder Society, and, ultimately, why she stopped.
There's a little bit of misinformation on the wiki, which you can chalk up to Kindler's own flair for the dramatic, minor misreadings, or deliberate retcons, but Bloodbound will soon be the densest source on all things related to the Kindler family.
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Pathfinder Tales: Bloodbound releases in December, but you can enter a drawing to get one of ten free copies over on Goodreads.com right now.
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As for what's out there now, though, the introduction to Classic Horrors Revisited is written by Kindler herself and I don't see where it ever says her sister dies. I think that's just a misinterpretation, and an understandable one considering the price in lives that was paid in Ailson's rescue of her. But she certainly survived and went on to have at least one far-traveling son.
(Note: I have adjusted Ailson's sister's name from Allishan to Ellishan—for likely understandable reasons. We can probably see that into the wiki soon.)
Beyond that, there are a few more specifics out there, particular my novella Guilty Blood that, as folks have mentioned, prominently features her and a new assistant. There's also a bunch of quotes from her various novels...
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There upon the house stairs stood the lady in question herself—more a thing of aether and ectoplasm than skin and substance. Still clad in a gown befitting a queen of the ladies of the night, her ivory skin shimmered in spectral translucence, the suggestive curves of her shoulders sweeping upward to a neck wearing gore like a ruby choker—and nothing more! Outstretched in a delicate claw, gripped unceremoniously by a shock of ephemeral hair, swung the lady’s misplaced head, her beguiling features darkened by the sight of vistas unknowable. Slowly she descended, her every spectral step heralded by a grave note from the towering salon clock’s invocation of the eleventh hour—exactly the time Boles had conjectured the house mistress had been so thoroughly finished.
—Ailson Kindler, Steps Upon the Sanguine Stair
“What? I don’t compare to the beauties of Caliphas?” she dared, her cool breath on my neck, startling me with her closeness.
In truth, she didn’t compare. Even through her arresting vermillion gown she was naked, her boldness and fire making her so, nothing like the precocious, empty-headed debutantes of the capital with their painted-on faces and poisonous whispers. Her intentions were obvious and overwhelming, and with the wound of Duristan’s loss there was little I could do to resist those eyes, that skin, those lips. I tried to mutter something, but even to myself it sounded nothing more than a moan of consent.
The last thing I remember was glimpsing the glow of jaundiced eyes through the crazed salon glass and a fanged sneer that followed me into the darkness.
—Ailson Kindler, Galdyce’s Guest: Feast of the Nosferatu
Heart racing, lid thrown clear, I sought the breast of the infernal where he slept. Empty. Empty save dust, black soot, and the droppings of rats.
“If not here, then wh—“ A scream choked my words. With eyes the size of silver crowns, Duristan stood shocked, stiff as a churchyard post. Drifting like foul breath, the Viscount of Amaans loomed stark and terrible, his Garund-yellow eyes piercing my fiancé’s soul, pinning him like so many victims past. With the jerking grace of a hunting spider, envious Galdyce was upon the man of breath and blood, the torch slipping from his numb fingers, the crypt set to spinning as the flame fell.
Not thinking to aim, my bolt took flight, but whether for the heart of the monster or the man I do not know.
—Ailson Kindler, Galdyce’s Guest: Feast of the Nosferatu
Ardurras proved himself heir to the blood of heroes that day, cutting down orcs and returning corpses to Pharasma’s bosom by the score. It was recognition that finally halted his blade. Tyrus Ildimion had served in his guard for a season, a lad whose bravery marked him as a noble even if his blood did not. Now the youth gaped at his side, eyes empty, hands outstretched as if pleading, the gushing wound of an orc hatchet cleaving his brow. As Ardurras met the former man’s blank stare, his blade faltered. Around the king, the battle turned, with every knight cut down adding to the invaders’ ranks. As swiftly chilling hands grasped for Arurras’s flesh, so too did they clutch his heart, and the dead claimed their kingdom’s crown.
—Ailson Kindler, In the Council of Corpses
Only his scream echoed back at him, as if the full moon’s light had transformed the once-vast forest into a narrowing prison of iron shafts and tearing hooks. Something in his mind, infuriated by his disobedient body, struggled to be obeyed, grasping for reason, strategy, or the tells of a dream, or merely to hear over the deafening tattoo of his rioting blood. Behind him chased the end of the world, utterly silent as it consumed his steps and the trail of his fear. Only too late did all the whimpering tales of the devouring dark seem sage and sane, a realization that burst upon his mind in a rush of horrible reality, shattering the bulwark of callowness he’d long mistook for bravery.
—Ailson Kindler, Hunter’s Moon
For those who cared to see, Caliphas was obviously cursed. From dusk to daybreak some seaborne leviathan exhaled its chilling breath upon the city, filling the night with a haze of clinging fog and sour dreams. From daybreak to dusk the residents their turn, a thousand blaspheming chimneys pumping burnt offerings to choke the heavens while the people clambered and cried in a cacophony to rival fabled Dis. So foul and bleak ran the course that when true wickedness made the city its home, and when the sewers began to run and reek like a slaughterhouse sump, nary a soul took note, and those who did could hardly decide if the monsters were fiends or angels.
—Ailson Kindler, Her Wounds Never Bled
Could the surrounding acre offer some offense only the storm could see, and so provoke it to withhold its draught? Mayhap Boles and I were the culprits, though I couldn’t recall any outrages in the past week that would have affronted the very weather. Yet there it was, the sound of rain all about, a torrent of drops invisible through the gloom. As I turned to speculate with Boles, my bone-dry palm outstretched as evidence, the investigator’s glare into the shadows sent a shudder through me. I’d seen the look all too often.
“Not rain, Quintin.” He spoke steadily without turning. “Steps.”
And like a devil summoned by its name, a thing of bone and rot and age-old hunger pulled itself through the night’s veil. And it was not alone.
—Ailson Kindler, Case of the Dreaming Dead
As you can see, I've been dropping references to Miss Kindler since 2008, and I'm sure we'll see more from her in the future, but I'm excited to finally get more of her story out there with Bloodbound.
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I'm running an Aasimar Cleric of Ragathiel in Carrion Crown right now named Ember Kindler; Ailson is her aunt and has made two very brief appearances.
I haven't mentioned any other family members. It's possible that "aunt" is an affectionate, non-literal term, but for purposes of our game they are related in some way. Auntie was kind enough to buy Ember a wig after she got kissed by a vargouille and her long red hair fell out. :)
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I'm running an Aasimar Cleric of Ragathiel in Carrion Crown right now named Ember Kindler; Ailson is her aunt and has made two very brief appearances.
I haven't mentioned any other family members. It's possible that "aunt" is an affectionate, non-literal term, but for purposes of our game they are related in some way. Auntie was kind enough to buy Ember a wig after she got kissed by a vargouille and her long red hair fell out. :)
Neat!
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Not to be confused with her halfling counterpart, Ailson Kender.
Thx, John.