A Game of Kingmaker

Game Master Wandering Wastrel

An excellent question! You will get picked based on how well your character fits into the setting. You will get picked based on the plot hooks that you leave in your background for me, your GM, to use – as well as for your fellow players to pick up on (this is, above all, a cooperative game). You will get picked based on how well you match your crunch with the fluff – if you use a weird or unusual weapon, where did you come by it? If you pick a particular feat or trait, where did you learn/develop that characteristic (e.g. who bullied you for your reactionary trait)? If you’re a cleric/paladin, how did you encounter your deity? Above all, you will get picked if you convince me that your character has an awesome story to tell about how they ended up ruling (or co-ruling) a mighty northern realm.

Sure thing! But I hope you like text.

Although the southerners (Chels, Taldans, usw) might dismissively refer to the whole of Brevoy and the River Kingdoms as “The Frozen North” they are really quite distinct.

The River Kingdoms themselves are a collection of barely-stable fiefdoms, with almost nothing in the way of centralised rule: each parcel of land is at the mercy of the individual who rules it, who may style themselves Baron, or Graf, or even Duke or King, but who has little to no power beyond their own few acres.

The sole exception is Pitax, which has stood as long as Brevoy itself – a vast and vital city-state, it is rivalled only by the city of New Stetven (capital of Brevoy): these two great towers of the north glare at one another across the leagues. Pitax grows rich on trade, and by owning the best farmland outside Taldor – in a fair summer, it can grow its own grapes, and a good Pitax vintage is regarded as respectable even in the southern realms. It is based at the conflux of several key rivers, so the barges that ply their trade inevitably dock at Pitax. Flush with wealth, it has historically been a major patron of the arts, and its streets and buildings are rife with monuments and sculpture, generally commemorating the glorious leaders of the day. Its bardic college is a rival even for Cheliax’s own.

As for Brevoy itself, it is more properly understood as two separate nations: dignified Issia to the north and proud Rostland to the south, which were forged into a single country some 200 years ago by Choral the Conqueror. He founded House Rogarvia and all went well… until 10 years ago, when the entirety of House Rogarvia disappeared overnight (literally, overnight). This caused some consternation and uproar, as you can probably imagine, but nobody was ready to immediately resume the old hostilities: the nobility might have grumbled under the rule of House Rogarvia, but everyone had got so used to it that they were comfortable. So six months later, hardly anyone really complained too much when House Surtova took the regency, by right of blood (Noleski Surtova had a direct line of descent through the line of Nikos Surtova and Myrna Rogarvia, daughter of Choral the Conqueror). Of course, some people did complain too much but nothing was ever heard from them again, so they must have eventually decided that they weren’t that upset, after all. Or something.

Anyway, this perilous situation has endured for just over nine years now, and the edges are fraying slightly. There are some in the south who might have been willing to give fealty to House Rogarvia, but who chafe bitterly at having to kneel before a “damned Issian.” There are some in the north who feel that their rustic Rostlandic ‘cousins’ need a reminder about who’s really in charge, now. And so, little by little, there are rumours of arms caches, of foundries that for generations have made ploughs and scythes now being pressed into military use, of the movement of mercenary captains here and there, of poisoned blades and the dark-cloaked assassins who wield them…

Strategically speaking, Rostland is in the worse position. Its land is rough, but fertile; there is little stone, and even less in the way of metal. Most Rostlandic forts are made of wood – stone has to be imported from the mountains on the Issian border, or even further afield, at high prices. Added to that, Issia has the Lake of Mists and Veils at its back, while Rostland’s southern border is a mess: the borderland between Brevoy and the rest of the River Kingdoms is a lawless hive of bandits, monsters, and worse, referred to as the Stolen Lands – although who they were stolen from, and who they now belong to, is never clear. If civil war is to come, Rostland cannot afford to keep one eye on its back. Measures must be taken to bring order to the Stolen Lands.

Which is where our PCs come in...

You’ll need the Kingmaker Player’s Guide.

We will be using Pathfinder material only, no 3rd party materials. All core races are allowed – you can go more exotic than that, but you will need an amazing backstory (I give you fair warning).

*20 point buy
*average starting wealth
*2 traits plus campaign trait (NO DRAWBACKS)
*Background skills from PF Unchained
*ALL classes with 2 skill points/level get ‘promoted’ to 4 skill points/level
*Unchained classes are permitted (and in the case of Summoner, required)
*Maximum hit points (for all levels: I don’t want anyone dying unless I’ve actually put some effort into killing you!)

Aside from that, I will need:

• completed character sheet
• completed background (origins/occupation/reason for applying for the charter)
• completed description (appearance/clothes/accessories/personality/quirks/likes/dislikes/morality)
• an indication of what Kingdom role you want to go for (ideally this would be tied to your background somehow)

The character will have trained in the Kitaharodian Academy in Oppara, which is one of the world's biggest bard colleges, but is also a training ground for the Lion Blades, Taldor's intelligence agency. The character will secretly be a Taldan spy.

The Kitharodian academy membership also opens up these feats from the Faction Guide:
Master Performer
Grand Master Performer

Gwenallt Cadogan (of House Medvyed)
Human Cavalier (Gendarme) 1 of the Order of the Lion
LN
Medium humanoid (human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +1
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Defense
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AC 18, touch 11, flat-footed 17 (+5 armor, +2 shield, +1 Dex)
hp 11 (1d10+1)
Fort +2, Ref +1, Will +1
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee lance +3 (1d8+2, x3) or
. . longsword +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x2) or
. . warhammer +3 (1d8+2, x3)
. . cold iron dagger +3 (1d4+2, 19-20/x2)
Ranged shortbow +2 (1d6, x3)
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Statistics
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Str 15, Dex 12, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 12, Cha 14
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 14
Feats Horse Whisperer, Mounted Combat
Traits Noble Born (House Medvyed), Inspiring Rush
Skills Craft (leather working) +5, Diplomacy +6 (add. +2 with fey), Handle Animal +6 (add. +2 with horses), Intimidate +6, Kn Local +5, Kn Nobility +5, Ride +5 (add. +2 with horses), Sense Motive +7
Languages Common, Sylvan
Favored Class Bonus +1/4 to the cavalier's banner bonus
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Special Abilities
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Challenge (Ex) 1/day As a swift action, the cavalier chooses one target within sight to challenge. The cavalier’s melee attacks deal extra damage whenever the attacks are made against the target of his challenge. This extra damage is equal to the cavalier’s level. The cavalier takes a –2 penalty to his Armor Class, except against attacks made by the target of his challenge. Whenever an order of the lion cavalier issues a challenge, he receives a +1 dodge bonus to his AC against attacks made by the target of his challenge. This bonus increases by +1 for every four levels the cavalier possesses.
Horse Whisperer You gain a +2 bonus on Handle Animal and Ride checks to handle or ride horses. In addition, you can attempt one Handle Animal check to issue a command to all horses within a 60-foot radius. An opponent whose animal companion or mount is within range can attempt a DC 20 Handle Animal check as an immediate action to prevent her horse from being influenced by you. If the opponent succeeds, you cannot influence that creature again for 1 hour.

Gwenallt, son of Baldric, is a member of House Medvyed, but only distantly related to the ruling Lord Gurev Medvyed. Gwenallt's family lives in a hamlet which grew up around a shrine to Ol' Deadeye (that is, Erastil) on the southern edge of Gronzi Forest and just north of Awzera River. The next closest major landmark is the infamous Valley of Fire to the east. The little village is significantly closer to New Stetven than to Stoneclimb, especially if you would skirt around the Forest to the east where it approaches the Icerime Peaks rather than traveling straight through. And few indeed would brave so long a trip through the heart of the Forest.
In spite of the distance, Gwenallt's family makes a journey to Stoneclimb for a great festival every year. "We must maintain our family ties," Gwenallt's father would always say. "Without family, men are reduced to barbarism, quickly losing all sense of honor and nobility." Gwenallt loved getting to spend a week or two every year in the presence of so much extended family. Even if it did highlight the disparity of wealth and prestige between his family and the ruling family, it always caused Gwenallt's heart to swell with pride.

It was no surprise that Gwenallt developed skill in raising and working with animals--the main work for anyone in their hamlet was the tending of goats and sheep. That, and regular hunts for deer in the Forest. But Gwenallt seemed to have been born with a special affinity for horses. There was the time that the family's draft horse, Bonnie, had been spooked by a terrible clap of thunder when he was not much more than a toddler. Gwenallt's mother had set him down inside the door to the house and rushed out to help his father try to calm the terrified beast, but to no avail. Bonnie reared up, tearing the rein from Baldric's hands. But just as she was about to turn and dash away, the sound of little Gwenallt's voice was heard, calling, "Horsey, come back!" To the amazement of Gwenallt's parents, Bonnie's eyes lost their strained look of terror as she calmed and bent her head down to nuzzle the young boy.

Baldric taught Gwenallt how to wield a sword and shoot a bow. As he grew into his teenage years, Gwenallt began to pick up that his family, like the whole House Medvyed, was not overly fond of the ruling House Surtova. His father always spoke of loyalty to their great House, but rarely mentioned the king. In time, Gwenallt knew that Baldric wanted him prepared as a warrior because one day civil war might come.

In these later years Gwenallt began to spend more time in Stoneclimb than just for the week-long festival each year, so that he could train in horsemanship, weapons, and armor with his noble cousins. Bonnie, the family's draft horse which Gwenallt rode to Stoneclimb, was no war horse, however. Lord Gurev saw Gwenallt's skill in horsemanship and as a warrior, and granted him a great favor--his own magnificent stallion sired a foal by Bonnie for Gwenallt to keep as his own, to raise and train. Gwenallt named this colt Alayne.

Gwenallt is now in his 24th year (and Alayne is in his 8th) when the call goes out for brave and willing souls to lay claim to the Stolen Lands.
- - - - - - - -
"Father!" Gwenallt called as he ran back to the house. "A rider just arrived from Restov. The Lord Mayor wants men to claim and settle the Stolen Lands, even to establish a new and independent kingdom! This could be the best opportunity I'll ever see to make a name for myself."

Baldric is taken aback. "Settle the Stolen Lands? A daring move...but it could give Rostland the edge it needs against the predations of Issia," he muses aloud. After a long moment of silent pondering, he looks up again at Gwenallt with a glint of determination in his eyes. "We must send word to Stoneclimb. With Lord Gurev's blessing, we will go--your mother and I with you."

Within a few weeks, the family had packed up their belongings and set off for Restov to join one of the companies that the Lord Mayor would send forth to the south.

Prince Rickard Rogarvia was the third son of King Urzen. He grew up in the Ruby Fortress in New Stetven on the shores of Lake Reykal, where his family did their best to instill in the boy the same ruthlessness and cunning that the family wielded to hold Brevoy's disparate houses and factions together. But young Rickard proved to be a kinder, gentler soul than his siblings, with a natural charm and wit. He chafed at the harsh lessons, resisting his family's attempts to shape him into their image.

Things came to a head one day when Rickard was eleven years old. A servant woman who had been blinded by illness accidentally spilled hot tea on King Urzen. Outraged, the king ordered Rickard to flog the servant for her insolence. Rickard refused, and for his disobedience, the king disowned him, stripping him of the Rogarvia family name and banishing him from the Ruby Fortress. Destitute, the young prince did what he could to survive on the streets of New Stetven, in the shadow of his family's power. Though forced to endure the scorn of the ruling family and the mockery of the common people, Rickard never regretted his actions.

The blind servant woman never forgot his kindness, and one fateful night in 4799 AR, when Rickard was thirteen, she was able to repay the favor. She found Rickard in the halfway house where he was living, telling him that the gods had granted her a vision of some uncertain doom that was about to befall all the members of House Rogarvia. She had begged the gods to spare the boy who had showed her mercy years before, and when she awoke, she discovered a glowing elixir among her meager possessions. She told Rickard that drinking the elixir would exact a heavy price, but he would be spared his family's fell fate.

That night, all of the members of House Rogarvia disappeared in the Vanishing. That night, Rickard disappeared along with them. That night, Raquel was born.

The elixir shifted her sex from male to female. Though shocked at first, it didn't take the former prince long to adjust to her new body. Indeed, she felt more comfortable in her new skin than she ever had as a boy. Finally, this was a chance to be free to forge her own destiny in life. True, with most of her family missing, she was the rightful heir to the Dragonscale Throne, but who would ever believe her tale? And did she even want to claim her tainted legacy?

So instead, she found employment at a tavern in Restov, first as a serving wench, and then as a brewer's apprentice where she learned the secrets of crafting fine alcoholic beverages. The brewmaster happened to be a devout follower of Cayden Cailean, fostering Raquel's burgeoning faith in the Drunken God. His tenets of freedom, bravery, and enjoying life spoke to the desires of her soul, and in short order Raquel found herself a member of his informal clergy. Orphaned from her family, Raquel followed the Caydenite tradition of taking her god's surname as her own.

In recent years, Raquel has done her best to ignore the political strife that threatens to tear Brevoy apart. But some part of her remains the prince of the land, and when rumors began to swirl of an expedition to bring order to the Stolen Lands, Raquel knew that this was her chance to help create a better world for the Brevan people. With a song on her lips and a mug of ale at her belt, Raquel prepares to venture forth and help tame the wilds...

Raquel is a pale-skinned woman with dark, chestnut-brown hair. It usually hangs loose to the middle of her back, but she ties it back in a ponytail when adventuring. She stands just over five-and-a-half feet tall and is slightly on the broader side, though she is fairly strong and fit. She wears simple homespun brown clothes with a wine-red sash, though she dons an armored coat when expecting trouble. Her rapier is never far from her hip, and a buckler and crossbow complete her ensemble. Tucked deep in a secure pocket is her well-worn signet ring of House Rogarvia, the only memento of her lineage.

Raquel is quite plucky and affable. She does her best to be friendly and is quick with a joke or an offered ale to lighten the mood. Those who would wish her harm sometimes falter in the wake of her charming smile. She is wholly devoted freedom and good, and having extensively studying Cayden Cailean's faith and the denizens of his Outer Planar home on Elysium, she seeks to emulate the courage and strength of the native azatas. As expected of a Caydenite, Raquel is a heavy drinker, frequently taking shots of "liquid courage" to help her face any obstacles that might stand in her way. She also has something of a competitive streak, instilled in her by her cutthroat siblings when she was growing up.

Despite her royal blood, Raquel is not interested in being the kingdom's Ruler. She would most likely pursue the roles of Councilor or High Priest.

Raquel Cailean
Female human cleric of Cayden Cailean 1
CG Medium humanoid (human)
Senses: Perception +3

Initiative +1
AC 16; touch 11; flat-footed 15 (+4 armor, +1 Dex, +1 shield)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +3; Ref +1; Will +6

Speed 20 ft.
Melee rapier +1 (1d6+1/18-20)
Ranged light crossbow +1 (1d8/19-20)
Special Attacks channel energy 4/day (1d6, DC 11)
Cleric Domain Abilities (CL 1st, concentration +4)
6/day--adoration (DC 14), Elysium's call
Cleric Spells Prepared (CL 1st, concentration +4):
1st--bless, charm person* (DC 14), shield of faith
0--enhanced diplomacy, guidance, virtue

Domains: Charm (Love), Good (Azata)

Str 13, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 13
BAB +0; CMB +1; CMD 12

Feats: Power Attack, Skill Focus (Knowledge [relgion])
Adventuring Skills: Diplomacy +5, Heal +7, Knowledge (planes) +5, Knowledge (religion) +8, Sense Motive +7
Background Skills: Craft (alchemy) +5, Knowledge (nobility) +5, Perform (sing) +2, Profession (brewer) +7
Armor Check Penalty: -3
Traits: Bastard (-1 on Charisma checks related to nobles, +1 Will saves), Competitive (Whenever another creature within 30 feet attempts a skill check and you attempt a check with the same skill before the start of that creatures next turn, you gain a +1 trait bonus on your check), Fortified Drinker (+2 on saves vs. mind-affecting effects for 1 hour after drinking alcohol),
Alternate Racial Traits: Focused Study (Skill Focus at 1st, 8th, and 16th level; replaces bonus feat)
Languages: Common, Sylvan
Favored Class Bonus: +1 skill point

Gear: armored coat, buckler, rapier, light crossbow, cleric's kit, signet ring of House Rogarvia, explorer's outfit, entertainer's outfit 6 gp

Well, ideally as the ruler, since that would certainly make the best song, but general would certainly do in a pinch. The character, while a good sort, is a glory hound, and a lot of his character arch will probably hav him growing up and into the role as it were.

Born of a dalliance between a noble of House Surtova and a half-elven dancer hired to entertain the Brevic court, Malqazar has not had the easiest life. While his royal blood kept him off the streets, he was seen as shameful to House Surtova due to his bastardy. His father was not the most faithful of husbands, and sired another fully human bastard named Alykzander. Once both boys came of age, their father made a deal. Whichever one could rise higher in the courts of Brevoy.would be legitimized, the other would not. And so, Malqazar began to work to make himself a figure in Brevic politics. In an effort to ingratiate himself with his noble family, he trained in the arts of the Surtovas, politics, deviousness, bladecraft. Knowledge of his family’s ways only increased his ambition for power in the courts. Lies became his only truth, deception the key to his success. As time passed he began to notice an unusual amount of success. A courtier he would try to charm might suddenly find themselves far more sympathetic to his intrigues. A servant that would otherwise mock him might take one of his commands without question. All the while, his lies sharpened. His web of informants and alliances grew, his plots growing to reach from Rostland into Issia as his talent for lies became almost supernatural. Despite his efforts, Alykzander won the legitimacy his father promised. A fortune meeting with the King-Regent became a friendship, and when Alykzander was proclaimed the guest of honor and one of the King-Regent’s feasts, the boy’s father immediately legitimized Alykzander. Malqazar was crushed, and almost let his plots and schemes slide into complete disarray. However, He still craved legitimacy, whether it was from his noble house or through other means. His opportunity at power came one day with the announcement of the Stolen Lands charters and the promise of an opportunity to create a fledgeling nation. With a fair amount of shady dealings, well-places deceptions, and a bit of magical manipulation he had secured his place as a charter holder. If he could not rule in his own nation, he would build one where he could.

Appearance
Malqazar is a tall, handsome seemingly human man, albeit with slightly pointed ears and a narrow face. From his half-elven mother he inherited the slender build and height of the elves, along with their dignified beauty. He generally wears the outfit and finery of a courtier, tailored to fit the fashions of Port Ice. He carries a slender cane topped with a bear’s head ornament, which upon close inspection is revealed to be a sword cane.

Personality
Malqazar’s is a charming and seemingly gracious individual, though it is often a means to an end, ad his need for power is deep. His will to achieve his goals can be almost off putting at times, though few would say that to his face even if they weren’t thoroughly charmed by his personality or his magic. Despite that, he is deeply insecure of himself. Bastardy is not looked kindly upon in Brevoy, and his deepest need is simply to be accepted as worthy, for his skills and talents to be recognised. As a result of that, he has something of a soft spot for bastards and outcasts, willing to briefly put aside his plots to help someone who has suffered similarly to himself.

Tiber’s early years were in the notionally free city of Restov, the seventh son of wool merchants. A tail end surprise of a child, unplanned and unlooked for, Tiber had ample love from a father who enjoyed raising children but little interest from a mother who had no need for another son at “Macero and Sons”. When he demonstrated a knack for mystic pursuits at the age of ten, he was packed off to study under a traveling Wizard-Sage named Onnekas.

They got all over the greater Brevoy region, poking around at ruins and helping here and there where a wizard-for-hire was needed. Tiber, for his part, mostly kept notes and occasionally ran errands that his mentor was too busy to perform. What Tiber really spent his time doing was reading. Between the Wizard-Sage’s own traveling library and the tomes they picked up as they traveled, the youngest Macero immersed himself in a universe of facts and figures. Some of it was certain to never come up (that there was an appendix in a serious treatise on outdoorsmanship on the topic of how many voles one can fit into a ten pound sack nearly led Tiber to distrust the entire volume) but storing knowledge took up no room in any mundane storehouse.

For the last five years, Tiber and his master have been parked outside of Skywatch, part of the contingent of wizards and wisemen trying to figure out what is going on with that ancient site. With a lack of new material to read, Tiber was growing bored. When the call went out for folks willing and able to explore the Stolen Lands, it spoke to something deep in Tiber. Sure, he’d learned much in his years underneath Onnekas, but imagine the wonders to be found in the uncharted frontier? A frontier that a part of his soul considered to be his, in his blood. A deeper part reminded him that he hadn’t gotten closer to the wildlands than the walls of the city, but he ignored that part. It took some persuasion (alright, a heated argument) with his master to secure his release from his apprenticeship. He kitted himself out for a life of exploration, and off to Restov to find a group headed for the Stolen Lands he went. It was only two miles into the journey that he abandoned the iron pot from his kit, tossing it on the side of the road. Damned thing was *heavy*.

Tiber has eyes that positively glint with curiosity, pale blue, above a mouth that is often pinched into a thin line. Though barely into his twenties his hairline is already in full retreat, and he will likely be bald before he even sees the edge of his thirties, however for the moment what remains is long, lustrous and black. Thin and tall, he gives the impression of an even greater height owing to good posture and the floppy hat that he wears from time to time. The clothing that he currently owns is solid traveling gear in a variety of earth tones, greens and browns.

The youngest of seven sons, Tiber was born to be a team player. He knows that while there might be disagreements, even strife, inside a family, at the end of the day, you hang together. He likes knowing things; secrets, facts, dates, the price of a gallon of milk in Ioboria. He likes to know these things because they make him useful to people who are bigger and stronger than he is. Sometimes, the most important thing to know is what to say to get one of those bigger, stronger people (brothers, traditionally) to pause before starting a fight. Tiber is the sort of man who drums his fingers together as he contemplates what he should do. If he were a villain, he would have a cat that was white. He has a tendency to speak too quickly when he gets excited about something, which is a wide range of topics.

Tiber has no interest in wearing a crown, or standing in front; that only paints a large target on you. He'd rather be someone providing information and advice to a ruler, the Magister or Spymaster, for instance. On the other hand, who holds the purse strings holds the fate of the kingdom, so perhaps the Treasurer would be appropriate?

Nicolas Ragar
Male Human Investigator (Empiricist) 1
LN Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init: +7 Perception: +5/+6 v.s. traps
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Defense
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AC 16 TAC 13 FF: 13
HP 9/9 Fort +1 Ref +5 Will +4
Special Defenses:
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Offense
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Melee
rapier +3 (1d6/18+/x2)
dagger +3 (1d4/19+/x2)
l. mace +3 (1d6/x2)
Ranged
dagger +3 (1d4/19+/x2/10ft)
sling +3 (1d4/x2/50ft)
Speed 30 ft.
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Statistics
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Str10 (+0) Dex 17 (+3) Con 12 (+1) Int 16 (+3) Wis 12 (+1) Cha 9 (-1)
Base Atk +0 CMB +0 CMD 13
Feats Weapon Finesse, Improved Initiative
Skills Acrobatics +7 (1), Climb +4 (1), Disable Device +7/+8 (1), Diplomacy +7 (1), Craft: Alchemy +8 (1), Bluff +7 (1), Intimidate +7 (1), Stealth +7 (1), Perception +5 (1), Sense Motive +5 (1), Kn: Nobility +7 (1), Kn: Local +7 (1), Kn: Geography +7 (1)
Languages: Common, Sylvan, Draconic, Elven
SQ: Skilled, Bonus Feat
Traits Bastard, Student of Philosophy, Bruising Intellect
Favored Class: Investigator - +1 Skill
Combat Gear: studded leather (+3 AC, +5 Max DEX, -1 ACP), rapier, dagger, light mace, sling, 20 sling bullets
Mundane Gear: alchemy crafting kit, backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, ink, inkpen, iron pot, mess kit, soap, torches (10), trail rations (5 days), waterskin, formula book, 9gp, 9sp, 10cp
Magical Gear:
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Special Abilities
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Alchemy (Su): Info Here
Inspiration (4/4)(Ex): An investigator has the ability to augment skill checks and ability checks through his brilliant inspiration. The investigator has an inspiration pool equal to 1/2 his investigator level + his Intelligence modifier (minimum 1). An investigator’s inspiration pool refreshes each day, typically after he gets a restful night’s sleep. As a free action, he can expend one use of inspiration from his pool to add 1d6 to the result of that check, including any on which he takes 10 or 20. This choice is made after the check is rolled and before the results are revealed. An investigator can only use inspiration once per check or roll. The investigator can use inspiration on any Knowledge, Linguistics, or Spellcraft skill checks without expending a use of inspiration, provided he’s trained in the skill. Inspiration can also be used on attack rolls and saving throws, at the cost of expending two uses of inspiration each time from the investigator’s pool. In the case of saving throws, using inspiration is an immediate action rather than a free action.
Trapfinding: An investigator adds 1/2 his level to Perception skill checks made to locate traps and to Disable Device checks (minimum 1). An investigator can use Disable Device to disarm magical traps.
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Spellcasting
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Caster Level: 1
Spell DC: Spell Level + INT (3) + 10
Extracts Prepared (2): longarm, shield
1st Levels Known : longarm, shield, endure elements, comprehend languages, ant haul, expeditious retreat
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Born in the frozen trade hub of Port Ice, Nicolas was the son of an illicit affair between Sigurd Surtova and Tessara Ragar. The former a member of the noble house that had now escalated itself into rulership and the latter a renowned alchemist. The two had become close when Sigurd, desperate for a son and looking for alchemical concoctions to improve his virility, came to Tessara’s shop upon the port. Taken aback by the alchemist’s beauty and then overwhelmed by her intelligence, Sigurd fell in love with the young woman. Tessara had found the man to be charming, quick to laugh and witty enough to keep up with her sharp tongue. An affair blossomed between the two which led to Nicolas being delivered late one spring.

Unlike most who would be considered a bastard, Nicolas was not forgotten and left to wonder his heritage nor was his mother paid for her silence while Sigurd disappeared. The man had a sense of honor that was rare amongst the nobility and made sure to spend them with the boy who had his eyes, watching him grow as a man. The two of them would have long discussions, about life, philosophy, the arts, and the politics of nobles. There was no son born between Sigurd and his wife, leading the man to believe that he was not the one that was barren. He had been maneuvering himself for years now into positions of power and now had a lofty goal, to marry the alchemist after divorcing his wife and legitimizing Nicolas as a scion of House Surtova. There were many tales told of the adventures that they would have, the hunting trips through the forests when Spring arrived or the additional spars they would partake in. Nicolas grew enamored with this idea, his excitement building when his father’s wife passed away from illness one the harsh winters that came through.

In preparation for this, Sigurd quietly paid for Nicolas to be sent out of Brevoy to attend the prestigious University of Lepistadt. His mother had been taught by the very same center of learning and while she focused upon alchemy, Nicolas was entranced by the investigative arts. Logic, science, and the art of deducing reality appealed to the young man so eagerly. Possessing quick wit and a sharp mind, Nicolas rose within the student rankings and ended up joining the Gateguard Dueling Fraternity. Within the halls of Lepistadt Univeristy, Nicolas learned his craft and out on the Fifthstones Hill, he earned the dueling scar across his cheek. It would've been a happier time had he not received a letter that his father had ended up lost at sea.

The politics of noblity is a dirty and dangerous thing and Sigurd’s brother, Timeon, had plans for the land that his brother controlled. With no heir, the line of inheritance would land squarely upon him. During a voyage out upon the lake, tragedy struck and the boat that Sigurd was upon was sunk by a freak storm. None could prove it was an assassination, none could say that Timeon was involved. What had been promised to Nicolas was taken away; power, prestige, wealth, a true family. His mother was distraught by this news and Sigurd's death affected her mightily. The quality of her supplies went down, she took to drinking to drown her sorrows, and Nicolas suspects Timeon learned of his brother’s dalliances. Once reliable contacts seemed to shrivel up and disappear. Rival businesses had better contracts, quicker deals, and better supplies. His mother’s alchemy shop stayed open but they fell from their heights into a place of poverty.

Nicolas did not stop learning though, hoarding the books his father had given him over the years as well as the texts he brought home from the University. He studied the laws of philosophy, of logic and reason, learned the ways of science and magic partnered together. He learned his mother’s trade of alchemy and tapped into the arcane magic that flowed in his veins but that was not enough to rise them from their desperate state. In response, Nicolas went to desperate measures.

Serving alongside brigands and pirates, Nicolas would disappear for days at a time and venture out for nefarious purpose in order to support his mother. He learned how to lie, to cheat, to steal, and become harder from the lessons he took from the world. Locks were challenges to overcome, guard shifts and routes were patterns to learn and defeat, and violence was a test of both reflexes and planning. Working with the criminal element put him in contact with a group of disgruntled individuals, people wanting their own power and freedom from the Houses.

Allying with them, Nicolas saw his opportunity to rise and take his birthright back from his uncle and assert himself as a proper noble within Brevoy. Yet it was this eagerness that was his undoing, as his uncle had eyes and ears throughout Port Ice and was prepared when Nicolas made his move at last. After a failed ambush upon his uncle, most of his conspirators had been killed or was set to hang. Locked away in the darkness of the prison, his Uncle Timeon came to him and presented an offer.

”You are smart, too smart for your own good, but I have use of a man with your skill. There is something I want to have looked into for… an opportunity, if you will. You will join this expedition and see to its success." The cruel man presented a piece of writing, a recruitment looking for adventurers to help explore in the Stolen Lands. At first, Nicolas spat at the man which drew a laugh from the noble even as the guards drew their blades. ”That is what I expected, as stubborn as your father was. You both have the same eyes, you know. I wonder if his looked like yours when the knife found his back.” Taken aback by his uncle’s admission, Nicolas found himself without words to say. ”Finally silenced that tongue of yours, did I? Think about it, if you die…who will take care of your mother? Next winter, she will freeze to death or become a whore to survive. Is that what you want?”[/i] Leaning in with a wicked smile, the man continued. ”I will ensure your mother’s safety, take her as the family alchemist. She will survive the winters and it will ensure your loyalty to me. Betray me, and she will suffer before she passes on.” Stepping back from the bars, Timeon watched with a curious but victorious look. ”So…do we have an accord?”

It was with these thoughts that brought Nicolas down along the dusty roads to the wild lands to the South, to the territory known as the Stolen Lands. He looked over the charter once more, his face grimacing at the memory of the prison and his uncle’s smug smile. ”I swear by the Savored Sting, I will pierce your heart with my blade and watch the life fade from your eyes, uncle.” Nicolas murmured underneath his breath, folding the paper once more as he continued his journey.

Nicolas stands at 5'8 and weighs a little over 170lbs. He dresses in simple clothing; strong and thick cotton, simple vests with the variety of blues, browns, and blacks. Hair is a soft blonde and hangs just slightly longer than his shoulders, with blue eyes are as deep as the Lake of Mist and Veils. His hair is kept swept back into a loose ponytail at most times, especially when he is expecting danger. He wears a fitted suit of brigandine armor, padded for comfort for him to move with dexterity and grace. On his hip sits a well-maintained rapier, well-crafted but otherwise quite normal. A dagger sits on his other side, along with a leather sling and a pouch of iron bullets for it.

He walks with a graceful step and his smile is warm, if distant and small. When angered, the soft features of his face grow hard and fierce and his calm voice grows a cold edge that is unnerving to hear.

Nicolas is an incredibly intelligent and careful individual, relying on logic and facts rather than instincts and impulses. He tends to come off as very reserved and quiet at first, gauging his first interactions with others and letting them reveal more about themselves before he does. A former brigand, thief, and criminal, Khosis is quite adept at creating a persona for himself if needed and fitting into the world.

Those that earn his trust and respect, however, learn that he is loyal to a fault and holds himself to a strange sense of honor. He did his best not to harass the poor and destitute, he ensures to keep the most dangerous elements out of his neighborhood, and he does not betray those he works with ever unless they violate his moral code. A criminal he is, most certainly, but he does not enjoy or support killing innocents in cold blood. He couples this with a complete acceptance of underhanded tactics; blackmail, extortion, robbery, and eliminating a threat with a sharp dagger in the middle of the night are all sound maneuvers to him. He isn’t a bad man, just a realistic one, and is accepting that for the world to continue there must be realists among the idealistic. They need one another, in the end.

He truly enjoys showing off his breadth of skill and ability, proving himself to be a worthwhile asset and a calm head when emotions begin to boil over. All that goes out the window with the mention of Timeon Surtova, who he despises and constantly plots against to try to get back into the advantage. If given an opportunity to secure his mother’s safety and kill the man, he will take it without hesitation or regret.

Firstly, I would love for Nicolas to become the Spymaster. He is built to be a Spymaster and it’ll make interesting roleplay considering his situation. If that is not available, the Grand Diplomat would be interesting as well as he can be quite manipulative and shrewd to protect the kingdom. Lastly, if neither of those are available, he could be the Treasurer. It is a position of power and he is quite intelligent for it, though I think the former two use his abilities far more effectively.

Nicolas is going to be exquisite in close combat thanks to a one level dip into Swashbuckler and the "Inspired Blade" Archetype". He is quite the skill monkey and at 3rd level, his Intelligence will cover most of the skills he'll use throughout the campaign. He can become a melee monster or delve into more of a supportive role with the Brew Potion feat in time.

Malqazar the Magnificent
Half-elf mesmerist 1 (Pathfinder RPG Occult Adventures 38)
LN Medium humanoid (elf, human)
Init +4; Senses Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12 (+2 armor, +2 Dex)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +0, Ref +4, Will +2; +2 vs. enchantments
Immune sleep
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee sword cane +0 (1d6)
Special Attacks hypnotic stare (-2), mesmerist tricks 5/day (false flanker), painful stare (+1)
Mesmerist Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +5)
. . 1st (2/day)—charm person (DC 15), command (DC 15)
. . 0 (at will)—dancing lights, mage hand, message, open/close (DC 14)
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 18
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 12
Feats Noble Scion of War[ISWG]
Traits bastard, noble born - surtova
Skills Bluff +9, Diplomacy +8, Disguise +8 (+12 to appear human), Intimidate +8, Knowledge (local) +6, Knowledge (nobility) +8, Linguistics +6, Perception +4, Sense Motive +5, Sleight of Hand +6, Stealth +6
Languages Common, Elven, Giant, Infernal, Sylvan
SQ consummate liar +1, elf blood, round ears
Other Gear leather armor, sword cane[APG], backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, courtier's outfit, flint and steel, ink, inkpen, jewelry[UE], stationery[UE], waterskin, 3 gp, 4 sp
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Special Abilities
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Consummate Liar +1 Counts as Combat Expertise for some feats.
Elf Blood Half-elves count as both elves and humans for any effect related to race.
Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Hypnotic Stare (-2, 30 feet) (Su) As swift action, target creature takes penalty on Will saves.
Mesmerist Tricks (110 feet, 5/day) (Su) Implant hypnotic bond with allies. granting edge vs. foes.
Noble Scion of War You are a member of a proud noble family.
Painful Stare (+1, 1/round) (Su) As a free action, hyp. stare target takes extra precision dam from a hit.
Round Ears +4 to disguise to appear human.

Malqazar wishes, more than anything, to be king. If he is unable to attain that position, he will settle for any position where he and his authority can be respected.

Malqazar is something of an all-arounder. He can do some debuffing of enemies, some party aid with his mesmerist tricks and painful stare, and a fair amount of social skills.

Tristan doesn't come from much, but he wasn't born on the street. The son of shopkeepers, he received some formal education in his youth and was found to have a knack for language. At the age of eight, his gift for music was discovered, and the arc of his life was seemingly decided. His singing mentors feared that upon reaching manhood his changing voice would no longer be as sweet - but it only grew more beautiful, expanding his range and his appeal. Combined with his physical beauty and natural charm, Tristan found there were very few doors he couldn't open with the right words. By his mid teens he'd already made a name for himself as a performer. For several years he lived in a room at a pricey tavern where he performed thrice a week, and was often hired by nobles for private performances. He spent money as easily as he made it, and life was a happy, effortless blur of wine, lovers, and song.

Eventually, jealousy complicated matters. A former partner of Tristan's, with whom he had often sung duets and put on joint performances, was driven by ambition to strike out on his own - but while an excellent musician himself, it was no secret that he was found to be the inferior of the two. He enlisted the help of a pair of minor noble youths to spread rumor and gossip about Tristan and ruin his reputation.

When Tristan found out, it brought his carefree life to a screeching halt. He was often the subject of gossip and rumor, but never before had it been spiteful (and usually it had been deserved). This concerted campaign against him aroused a fighting spirit within him that he'd never known existed. He used his superior charms and immensely superior connections to turn the tables on his detractors. He exposed their schemes and destroyed their credibility, and as an added bit of revenge spread a few artful rumors of his own. For a month or so, opponents vanquished, his life returned to normal.

Unable to match his skills at petty politics and constantly enraged by the gossip that held them in such mockery, both Tristan's rival and the two nobles marched into the inn one night to challenge him to duels. Outraged that they had brazenly interrupted his performance, Tristan accepted without a second thought - and furthermore, contemptuously offered to fight all three duels in a single day.

Like any decent Rostlander socialite, Tristan owned a blade and was tolerably well acquainted with its use, having hired himself a private dueling master for some years - but he had never expected to have need of the skills. Still, his pride would not let him back down, and so he resolved to follow through. For the week leading up to the duels he practiced constantly. When the day came, his opponents drew straws for the order in which their duels would be fought, and the rules were laid: to first blood or capitulation.

First he fought one of the nobles, a young man who had been training with a blade nearly his entire life - but had little aptitude for it. With experience and stamina he ground out a lengthy bout, but eventually Tristan was able to cut him upon the hand and so take a poor, but definite, victory. The second match was fought against the original instigator, the fellow singer. This man hated Tristan with a passion - but was useless with a blade. Tristan stabbed him in the shoulder on the second pass.

The third and final duel was fought against the most formidable opponent. The second noble was Tristan's elder by three years. Tristan knew little of him, but everything he knew he hated. The man was cruel, rash, arrogant, and poorly spoken. Tristan could not bear the thought of losing to him, and so he summoned up every bit of strength he had left - but after two duels, he was tired, and it was all he could do to fend off his foe's attacks. Then he remembered that he had another weapon which he had thus far left unused - his words. He began to taunt the noble, mercilessly and creatively. He joked. He insulted. He improvised mocking lyrics and poems even as he dodged attacks. The crowd - which was considerable - roared with laughter. After one particularly biting limerick that commented on the noble's taste for farm beasts as bed partners, the young man charged recklessly. Tristan countered with a thrust, hoping to take his opponent in the shoulder - but the nobleman stumbled in his haste, and spitted his head upon Tristan's blade. The cleric they'd had on duty for the duels declared that the man was dead.

The noble's family did everything they could to declare Tristan a murderer, but here, again, he proved able to defend himself against the allegations with his own words and the help of his allies in the nobility. He was absolved of wrongdoing - but now Tristan had earned himself more powerful enemies. He was forced to enter the realm of politics to prevent the dead noble's family and their allies from destroying his life. This he managed to do, and for several years his life was again joyful and downright hedonistic - but somewhat less carefree.

In the end, it was not this violent episode which undid Tristan - but rather his own amorousness. At twenty-four years of age he was more successful than ever, playing and singing for wealthy merchants and noble families for miles around. And one of those nobles turned out to have two very fetching daughters.

As well as an extremely charming wife.

On the final day of his month-long stay at the estate, Tristan's host, a powerful nobleman, discovered him in bed with the wife - and upon further questioning of the household staff, also discovered the dalliances with his daughters. And one of his kitchen maids. Not all of Tristan's words and allies could save him from consequences this time - though they did manage to save him from the headsman's axe. Instead, the judge took "mercy" upon him, seizing most of his possessions and exiling him to the Stolen Lands.

It was the wife who, just as Tristan was about to depart, sent him a note by courier. His truest friends amongst the nobility had pulled some strings. Inside was an explanation of the recent attempts to pacify and settle the Stolen Lands - and a charter making him an agent of the Swordlords of Restov.

"Take heart," she had written. "Greatness still lies ahead of you. I know it."

Glancing at the background traits, I think maybe Tristan being an unknowing Bastard (or perhaps one of his parents is the bastard?) might be fun. Would that be doable?

Pulic Name: Zeelo Wildspark
Given Name: Zeelothinio Quinithip
Familiar Name: Zee
Class: Alchemist (Grenadier archtype)
Concept: Fey-Touched Leonardo Da Vinci
Religion: His work
Traits: Alchemical Adept, Mathematical Prodigy, Pioneer
Alternate Racial Features: Master Tinkerer, Fey Magic, Fey Thoughts

"Zeelo Wildspark, Wildspark Enterprises! Pardon me, my lord, but with a minor investment I can revolutionize your irrigation systems, increase the size of your livestock by half, and double the range on your siege engines!"

A mad scientist, engineer, and exotic weapon designer; Zeelo has been across the land searching for patrons for his fanciful designs. Many of his weapon designs are promissing, but tend to be too complex, cumbersome or delicate for anyone who hasn't spent countless hours on prototyping and knows it like the back of their hand. Other contraptions, flying machine and ships powered by steam, are clearly beyond the actual manufacturing capabilities of any nation of Golarion. The rest of his enterprise consists of dubious alchemical remedies for every ailment under the sun. Some even work (with a bare minimum of side-effects)! His employment typically last a year or three, before his patron liege gets frustrated with his return on investment, or falls victim to a poor alchemical tonic. Zeelo is not trying to con these people, but he wildly mis-judges the difficulty of some of his goals. His current contract fell apart after a fire gutted his workshop, an accidental calculation in his attempt to build a better alchemical arrow, setting him on the road once more.

All gnomes are a little alien to most folk, a products of their Fey roots, but Zeelo has a greater touch of the mysterious creatures than the average gnome. He has inherited both their proclivity for subterfuge, in words and in deeds, and a slight taste of their nature magic on top of the cantrips most of his kind posses. When he's not having dreams about exotic inventions, he's having dreams of a strange yet somehow familiar world full of fantastic beings of all description. Disturbingly, as his current destination of Brevoy draws closer, these visions of another world become more vivid and personal, as well as more frequent. Someone, or something, is calling to him out in the woods of the River Kingdoms. What's more, though it is just the tiniest glimpse, he swears he saw his parents that vanished without a trace in that strange land. When he found public postings about the chartered expedition, he saw his chance to investigate and decided to put his mathematical talent to use as group cartographer.

Personal Goals: Investigate the First World and the Fey, as well as your connection to them.
Practical Goals: Survey and catalogue the area for useful alchemical ingredients from local natural resources and wildlife, and find a permanent home for Wildspark Enterprises.
Kingdom Building Goal: Create a "Studio," essentially his private residence/workshop would be at the intersection of an Alchemist, Herbalist, Tradesman, and Smith in the city grid. Also, wants to design catapults and the like, as well as infantry gear.
Kingdom Role: His math talents lend themselves towards Treasurer, and the character would probably prefer the "static" nature of it, in that he can just do the numbers and get back to his experiments. If pressed, he could fulfill the role of Magister if there is no Wizard or other suitable character, or make a wonderfully unconventional Spymaster.

My alchemist will be able to offer group utility and buffing at level 2 with the discovery to pass his spells around. Has pretty good stealth, and with spells to fly, turn invisible, change shape, or assume gaseous form he can be invaluable to efforts at spying and subterfuge on political foes, bandits, and monsters alike.

Combat style will be based around making more powerful alchemical splash weapons with Hybridization Funnel, applying them to repeating crossbow bolts with Alchemical Weapon at level 2, and take the discovery at level 4 to infuse the bolts with a bomb as well. If allowed, would use dye marker bolts (no damage from the crossbow itself, but it becomes a touch attack), which seems reasonable since bombs and splash weapons are touch attacks already.

he joins the expidition as a map maker who wants to “bring people to the wild places” and who just loves to explore and see new things, but he has ambitions beyond that. Sick of he and his siblings being forced to hide their shape and pretend to be human he sympathizes with the various monster races and intends to build a nation where they are fee and safe

Marcus plans to open a bar/inn he will name The Tall Tail Inn that he will use as his base of operations, i’ll use downtime rules to make the thing so long as I get to be the one running said bar. He will claim to be the liaison from whatever merchant guilds are on the council (being a land/business owner himself) but will mostly use his bar as a way to gather information with his real role as the Spymaster (or Possibly Magister). He’ll also use fox shape to get into places where a person would be suspicious

Zeelo Wildspark
CG Gnome Alchemist
Init +2; Senses Low-Light Vision; Perception +7
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Defense
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AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 14 (+3 armor, +2 Dex, +1 size)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +0; +2 racial bonus vs illusion effects
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Offense
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Speed 20 ft.
Melee tonfa +1 (1d4/×2)
Ranged alchemy bomb +4 (1d6+3/×2) touch attack
Ranged light crossbow +3 (1d6/19-20/x2)
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Statistics
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Str 11, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 12
Base Atk +0; CMB -1; CMD 11
Feats Throw Anything, Point Blank Shot
Skills Bluff +5, Craft (Alchemy) +15*, Craft (Weapons) +12*, Disable Device +6, Knowledge (Arcana) +8, Knowledge (Nature) +7, Knowledge (Engineering) +9, Perception +7, Stealth +9
Languages Common, Gnome, Sylvan, Elven, Goblin, Dwarf
SQ Alchemy, Mutagen
Gear alchemy crafting kit, thieves tools, bolts x10, dagger, riding dog, 11 gold and change for camping gear and rations, explorer's outfit
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Special Abilities
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Spell Like Abilites (1/day) - dancing lights, ghost sound, prestidigitation, speak with animals, hide from animals, create water, spark, detect magic
Extracts (1st level, 2/day) - cure light wounds, crafter's fortune, shield, enlarge person, comprehend languages

* - all crafting will be done under the effect of a Crafter's Fortune extract, accounting for a +5 bonus.

Iriador’s family have been merchants for several generations. His mother Signi claims that his ancient Ulfen ancestors were brilliant traders who used their wits to the benefits of their clan, buying and selling supplies rather than rely on infrequent raiding parties. That said his mother has never even seen the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Her parents brought her to Brevoy when she was quite young and although she traveled some in her youth she ultimately returned and sought service with House Lebeda. She was a fierce woman to bargain with and she was relatively successful during her years as a House Lebeda tradesman. She met Iriador’s father during some negotiations with a contingent of Elves from Kyonin that were meeting in Restov several years ago. Over the course of the week-long deliberations Iriador was conceived. By the time that Signi learned she was pregnant his father was well on her way back to Kyonin. Never one to back down from a challenge his mother decided that she was perfectly capable of raising Iriador on her own. When she saw his bright red hair, she decided to go with Iriador, an old elven word meaning ruby.

During his youth Iriador was relatively content. As he grew older he occasionally had awkward questions about his father, but Signi was a wonderful parent. All the fearsome energy she had devoted to working as a merchant was instead focused on raising and providing for her son. Although ultimately that overprotective nature was what would drive Iriador to set out on his own to make his own way it, he would never say that he had a bad childhood. Almost as soon as he was able to walk and waddle his mother was taking him on trips with her. A large part of his childhood was spent on boats moving around the shores of Lake Reykal to trade. It wasn’t especially surprising that over time he quickly began to learn the tricks of the merchant trade from his mother.

When he was eighteen years old he was accepted by House Lebeda as an official trade representative like his mother, able to barter and negotiate on behalf of the House itself. He would always see that as one of his greatest accomplishments and fondly remember the joyful tears in his mother’s eyes at hearing the news. Although he grew occasionally aggravated at his mother’s interference in his affairs it was impossible to deny that she did so because she wanted the best for him. And the pride in her eyes at what Iriador had managed to accomplish was humbling. As a representative in his own right he was able to branch out and conduct trades on his own without Signi’s oversight. He had learned a great deal about the various people’s of Brevoy during his time studying under his mother but now he got to take what he had learned, refine it and capitalize on it.

The first few years on his own were difficult, even more so when he had to insist that his mother did not throw her weight around to force deals in his favor. But he got through it and learned a great deal. His mother had always done things with a natural charm about her. Occasionally she would beat people down with that charming smile if that was what it took, but most often people ended deals with her smiling and laughing. Iriador found that his own talents lay more in proving his knowledge and understanding of what he was selling. Iriador was quick to learn things and could naturally explain them in ways that made people understand things better. He also learned that he was quite adept at talking circles around any questionable parts of a contract so that people would overlook them. As he developed his own methods and style for conducting his business he found he was increasingly successful in his business dealings.

As he worked to learn more about the products he was selling and people he was selling them to it began to become clear to him that his elven ancestry had imparted some measure of magical talent onto him. Some might have seen this as a calling and focused on it, but as far as Iriador was concerned he had already found his purpose. If he had magical talents, then they were a gift meant to enhance his true passion. So, he did study what he could of his arcane talents, he found work arounds and loop holes to help him achieve things that were normally only possible with intense study. His focus was perhaps not as impressive or earth changing as some arcane practitioners, but he learned things that he saw as helpful to pursuing his own goals. Being able to charm people or increasing his awareness during a business deal, those were far more useful than hurling a ball of fire at someone’s head. His focus lay far more on what magic could do for him and in the possibility of making and selling magical items than in the use of magic for its own sake.

Around a year ago, a noble made a variety of accusations against both Iriador and his mother. It was all political grandstanding to discredit them as traders, the man had heavy investments in other businesses that weren’t doing well in part because of them. That ended up hurting both Iriador and his mother considerably. His mother had a decent bit of pull at the time though and was able to keep it from bankrupting them completely. But the move infuriated Iriador. After years of faithful service one little blue blood with a grudge caused so much damage to his family’s reputation. It just didn’t seem fair. And he wasn’t entirely sure how he could make it up to his mother for interceding on his behalf. So, when the call came out for people willing to go out and help prepare for a claim on the Stolen Lands Iriador saw it as a golden opportunity. His reputation in Brevoy was will hurt somewhat but this was one way to gain some recognition. And if he was lucky it would also allow him to start planting the seeds for trade deals that he and his mother could capitalize on for any settlements that did spring up in the Stolen Lands.

I toyed around with a number of different characters before settling on this one. I know a little about Pathfinder, I've gotten through the first two books before. So I know that downtime can be a huge thing in this game and something fun to capitalize on. I figured it had been a long time since I played a crafter. As I was looking at the various classes that could make halfway decent crafts I ultimately settled on Wizard. When I thought about it I figured Magister made perfect sense for a Wizard, so I immediately knew I didn't want to do that. So I kept looking over the list and saw Treasurer can use Int. That's when the idea for this character started really coming together. As Treasurer it would have to be someone good with money, a young man from a merchant family associated with House Lebeda perhaps? Then the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea of someone crafting and selling magical items. Yes, of course he himself can do magic but that's not his real focus on life, its being knowledgeable about the things he wishes to sell. So I ended up with Iriador, the man who wishes to be Treasurer of this kingdom.

For his party role I mean he's a Wizard. Which I dont actually play all that often. Prepared spellcasters aren't as fun to me as spontaneous but I feel like this character is interesting and I can have fun with it. I plan on taking very few Evocation spells, he'll probably mostly focus on control and manipulation of the battlefield. And of course he'll help out massively when he eventually starts being able to make magical items for the party. Out of combat I took Orator, which has quickly become one of my favorite feats. It seems perfect for a merchant. If I would use Bluff to lie, Diplomacy to improve attitude or Intimidate to coerce help from someone I can instead use Linguistics. Linguistics is a much better skill for me as a Wizard and I think kind of makes sense for an intelligent person who works to talk people into buying things for a living. Fey Thoughts also gave him access to Perception and Sense Motive because I feel like those are exceptionally useful skills for someone who is making trade deals. All and all his skills are much better suited to social encounters than a bog standard wizard would be.

Iriador Solladas
Male half-elf wizard (exploiter wizard) 1 (Pathfinder RPG Advanced Class Guide 133, Ultimate Wilderness 213)
LN Medium humanoid (elf, human)
Init +4; Senses low-light vision; Perception +6
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Defense
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AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+2 Dex)
hp 8 (1d6+2)
Fort +1, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs. enchantments
Immune sleep
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Special Attacks arcane reservoir (1/4)
Wizard (Exploiter Wizard) Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +5)
. . 1st—charm person (DC 15), color spray (DC 15)
. . 0 (at will)—detect magic, mage hand, prestidigitation
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 19, Wis 10, Cha 10
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 12
Feats Orator[ACG], Scribe Scroll, Skill Focus (Linguistics)
Traits elven reflexes, noble born - lebeda, spark of creation
Skills Appraise +8, Knowledge (arcana) +8, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +8, Knowledge (local) +8, Knowledge (nature) +8, Knowledge (religion) +8, Linguistics +14, Perception +6, Sense Motive +4, Spellcraft +8; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception
Languages Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Giant, Hallit, Skald, Sylvan
SQ able assistant, elf blood
Other Gear wizard starting spellbook, 70 gp
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Special Abilities
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Able Assistant (Ex) Treat valet as it possesed Cooperative Crafting and all Craft skills and item creation feats you have.
Arcane Reservoir +1 DC or CL (4/day) (Su) Pool of points fuel exploits, or can expend to add +1 CL or DC while cast spell.
Elf Blood Half-elves count as both elves and humans for any effect related to race.
Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Empathic Link with Familiar (Su) You have an empathic link with your Arcane Familiar.
Familiar Bonus: +3 to Linguistics checks You gain the Alertness feat while your familiar is within arm's reach. [Parrot Valet Familiar]
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail.
Orator Use Ling in place of Bluff to tell falsehood, Diplo to change attitude or Intim to for cooperation.
Share Spells with Familiar Can cast spells with a target of "You" on the familiar with a range of touch.