Age of Worms: Dawn of a New Age in Golarion

Game Master Luis Loza

He was born in Old Korvosa to varisian parents. His mother was a harrower and his father a cobbler. They were very poor while he was a child, and one day they were unable to come up with the rent. Their Sczarni connected landlord threw them out and crushed his father's hands. His father was unable to work and grew depressed so his mother took him and left Korvosa to wander and ply her trade. During this time of wandering Angelo learned to hunt, trap, fight and pick locks from the various men of the caravans they traveled with. By the time he was seventeen his mother decided to settle down in the town of Diamond Lake. Unwilling to commit to sedentary small-town life just yet, Angelo returned to Korvosa.

He wanted revenge for what was done to his father, so he put his skills to use as a bounty hunter. He would hunt down and capture criminals who escaped into the more shadowy parts of Old Korvosa. The guards paid him enough to keep him fed and housed. One day he went after the wrong guy, someone who had paid a lot of money to the right guardsman to make sure he wasn't found. They hadn't counted on Angelo intervening. After he brought the man in, both the gangster and the guard came after him. Things were too hot in Korvosa, so he left and headed back to Diamond Lake.

Good sirs, the noble Forrel family,
I was born on the west bank of the Velashu river, Riddleport. A city of lawlessness. My parent's were forcibly indebted to the late Robbeht Redhand. A pirate who made Riddleport his second home. As a child I witnessed the cruelty of such a life. I also was influenced by it, bullying those others of my age in imitation of the pirates that did the same to us. This is a regret of mine, one can not blame others for his own willful actions. My dear parents here, Gregg and Saraia were forcibly indebted to this pirate and under the threat of death if they every tried leaving Riddleport. There was nothing we could do, nothing I could do, no one who would help. Redhand had ideas of me becoming one of his pirates, said I was good luck on account of my eyes and I would sail with him when I was an adult. I did not want this. We were ever desparate but could design no escape short of killing ourselves. He owned us, we were practically his slaves whenever he came to Riddleport.
One day I was in the markets and ran into an angry gentleman. When he saw me though he instantly knew what I was and instead of cursing at me he took me aside and questioned me. He was an Inquisitor, a follower of the ways of Sarenray. I did not know it but he was hunting several pirates and when I pleaded for his help and mentioned Redhand he agreed to help. Redhand was one of his targets.
He proposed a deal with the pirate to buy us if you will. For a great sum of money. Redhand agreed and we were to meet him and Ezek would pretend to make the payment and kill Redhand. There were six with him though and the deal did not go as planned until I distracted them with the very gold of their desires, proposing a gamble. We would go free or forever be his slaves depending on which face of the gold coin landed up. While they watched the coin Ezek made his move, his dagger implanting itself in Redhands chest, he fell instantly. Ezek the rest of them off and we were able to escape, eventually coming here. I wanted to follow him but he knew his ways were not for me, but he still encouraged me to uphold good, so I learnt the teachings of Ceranray, but not following the extremes that Ezek went to.
As you know I became a paladin thirty years ago and soon discovered my ability to change my form. I regret that time, when I delighted in my new discovery trying everything I could with abandon. One day I had become a wolf and as you know, Doran Forrel mistakenly shot me with an arrow. When he came to see if I was dead, my anger took control of me and I...
I have served my atonement, I have owned nothing and possessed no gold for twenty years. I have served the Forrel family faithfully, showing my regret and sorrow for my actions. You have witnessed my deeds and therefore I ask, will you all accept my atonement as payed. I will forever take this lesson with me when I retake my Paladin oaths.

Byron Lockley
Aasimar Priest 1
CG Medium Humanoid (outsider)
Init +2; Senses Darkvision; Perception +6

--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10
hp 9 (1d6+2+1 favoured class)
Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +6; +2 vs. death effects, energy drain, negative energy, and spells or spell-like abilities of the necromancy school. +1 vs fear effects

--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 40 ft.
Melee Touch Attack -1 (As Spell/x2)
Ranged Touch Attack +2 (As Spell/x2)
Cleric Spells Prepared (CL 1):
1 Bless (x2), Comprehend Languages (D), Longstrider (D)
0 (at will) Detect Magic, Enhanced Diplomacy, Resistance
Domains: Luck, Travel, Knowledge

--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB -1; CMD 11
Feats: Selective Channel
Traits: Dangerously Curious, Dream-Called
Skills: Diplomacy (9), Knowledge arcane (6), Knowledge dungeoneering (2), Knowledge engineering (2), Knowledge geography (2), knowledge history (2), knowledge local (2), knowledge nature (2), knowledge nobility (2), knowledge planes (8), knowledge religion (6), perception (6), spellcraft (5), use magic device (8)
Languages Common, Celestial
SQ: Increased base speed, Lore (as bardic knowledge), Aura, Channel positive energy (1d8), Deathless Spirit, Darkvision 60ft, Heaven Born, Scion of Humanity

--------------------
TRACKED RESOURCES
--------------------
Bit of luck (6/day)
Agile feet (6/day)

The Priest had been up all night. He had seen the majesty of the stars above and was now basking in the glory of the dawning sun.

He felt tired to his bones but that was not due to the lack of sleep this night. He had walked near 100 miles in the last month, constantly heading south, chasing a vision of a lake of glittering jewels.

But it was not wealth that he sought there. In truth, he didn’t know what it was, but he felt a great Evil rising, clawing at the edge of his perception. He had been up all night, hoping for a vision or a sign from the Lady of the Roads, to know that he was following his feet in the right direction. So far there had been nothing.

The fire was burning down to embers by now so Byron pulled on his heavy boots, made for him by a kindly old man some years ago, and stamped the ashes out. Gathering his satchel and warm woollen cloak, he brushed the hair idly out of his eyes and set out again – wasting not a moment of daylight. He looked like a shepherd or woodsman, dressed in layers of greens and blues but he carried no weapon and wore no armor – save for that afforded him by his faith. He knew that Desna would guide his steps true.

He had spent the past three weeks prior to this journey with the shamanistic orcs of the north. He didn’t know how he knew where to find them, the tribal elder had insisted they were largely unknown to the outside world – preferring to pay homage to the Green Faith in splendid isolation. Nevertheless he had been charming and enthused to learn all about them and they welcomed him, albeit with some suspicion. He asked questions about their faith and way of life. Unlike other Priests he did not force his beliefs on anyone but wanted the chance to understand theirs. He was the epitome of hope and optimism, laughing long and hard in the face of their fear of outsiders. “That is all you need do with fear, my friends.” He had said. “It can only live in places where the world is dark and silent, but when you open your heart to the wonders around you it will diminish like a fleeting shadow.”

But it wasn’t long before he felt this inexorable pull.

Although of average height and slim build, Byron is striking to look at – owing to his celestial blood. He has the boyish good-looks of an adolescent in his prime with glossy, dark black hair and warm green eyes. He dresses practically due to his nomadic nature but the heavy walking boots and mud-spattered coat to not diminish his handsome appearance.

Byron is knowledgeable on a broad range of subjects but not pretentious. He doesn’t talk down to those more ignorant rather favouring his passion for the subject to come through. He is always able to impart wisdom without being pious and allowing the subject to come to their own conclusions. He is confident and friendly but always tries to seek group approval on a decision rather than leading himself – even if he is best suited for the job. This is not due to a lack of confidence in his ability but a preference for democratic decision making.

Byron has spent most of his adult life travelling Varisia. His two main passions in life are knowledge and travel. There is nothing he enjoys more than seeing new things or enjoying new experiences with a different culture. He keeps a rigorous journal of everywhere he has visited and always writes a small blessing to Desna, Lady of the Roads at the end of each page giving thanks that he was able to witness the sunrise over the Ember Lake or take part in the Dance of Leaves in a Druidic circle.

Byron has always felt that Desna has guided his steps. She has shown him things and granted him abilities to help others on his travels. Although he does not spread the word of Desna, he does preach how incredible the world around us is and because of this he has no desire to put down roots, knowing that the world is too big to see in a single lifetime, so being tied down to one location does not fit in with his ambitions. He has no material possessions because of this save the clothes on his back and his travelling journal and so far, that has been enough. Having said that, in recent months he has felt an undeniable urge to push South where he feels a great evil is rising.

Byron has the skills to fill several non-combat roles. Knowledges (with his bardic knowledge-like lore ability) and diplomacy are particularly strong for him. He will primarily be a buffer and healer which I understand are two key roles during this campaign. From what I’ve heard, the added healing boost the Priest class provides is a welcome addition to this campaign which I guess is supported by your decision to grant full HP/level. The luck domain will allow him to grant party members rerolls for attacks, saves and skill checks and he can also be a pretty useful party taxi later with the spells granted by the Travel domain (Fly, Dimension Dorr, Teleport). He will be scribing scrolls of useful but situational spells such as remove disease, remove paralysis, restoration etc which will mean he should have the right tool for the job to keep the party on its feet. Finally, I gave him the dangerously curious trait to take advantage of his good CHA score. This will allow him to use wands for further buffs or so he can just chip away with a wand of magic missile when he has nothing better to do with his standard action.

Joran Kevlin
Human Fighter (Unarmed Fighter) 1
NG Medium Humanoid (human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +1
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 11, touch 11, flat-footed 10 (+1 Dex)
hp 11 (1d10+1)
Fort +4 (+2 trait bonus vs poison or drugs (+4 to avoid effects of alcohol)), Ref +1, Will +1
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 30 ft.
Melee Unarmed strike +5 (1d3+4/x2)
--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 18, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 13, Wis 12, Cha 10
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 16
Feats Dragon Style, Improved Unarmed Strike, Power Attack -1/+2, Scholar (Knowledge [dungeoneering], Knowledge [local])
Traits Iron Liver, Miner
Skills Climb +8, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +8, Knowledge (local) +4, Profession (miner) +5, Survival +5
Languages Common, Draconic
Other Gear You have no money!
--------------------
Special Abilities
--------------------
Dragon Style +2 vs sleep, paralysis, and stun, first unarmed strike in a rd deals 1.5x Str, and can ignore difficult terrain/allies when charging.
Improved Unarmed Strike Unarmed strikes don't cause attacks of opportunity, and can be lethal.
Iron Liver +2 to Fort saves vs. poison and drugs, or +4 vs. alcohol.
Miner You’ve worked in Diamond Lake for years in the mines. Exposure to dust, dirt, and dangerous working environments have made you hardier, but not any richer. A recent pay cut from your boss has left you with no form of income whatsoever, leaving you to
Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Scholar (Knowledge [dungeoneering], Knowledge [local]) +2 bonus on two Knowledge skills

Hero Lab® and the Hero Lab logo are Registered Trademarks of LWD Technology, Inc. Free download at http://www.wolflair.com
Pathfinder® and associated marks and logos are trademarks of Paizo Publishing, LLC®, and are used under license.

(work in progress)

Nitavesha Cindersnake CR 1/2
Female Human(Shoanti) Barbarian(Totem Warrior) 1
CG Medium Humanoid (human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +3

--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 11, touch 11, flat-footed 10 (+1 Dex)
hp 14 (1d12+2)
Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +0

--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Spd 30 ft.
Melee Unarmed attack +5 (1d3+4, x2)
Special Attacks Rage (6 rounds/day)

--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 8, Wis 8, Cha 15
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 16
Feats Power Attack (1st), Furious Focus (Bonus)
Traits Dream-Called, Magical Knack (Oracle)
Skills Intimidate +6, Knowledge (nature) +3, Perception +3, Survival +3
Languages Common
Combat Gear

--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
--------------------

Racial

Ability Modifiers +2 to Strength.

Bonus Feat Humans select one extra feat at 1st level.

Skilled Humans gain an additional skill rank at first level and one additional rank whenever they gain a level.

Favored Class Oracle

Traits

Dream-Called Visions of a horrible apocalypse have haunted you for months. They have grown more vivid in the recent weeks with the most recent dream showing your only escape from destruction is a small town named Diamond Lake. Panicked, you woke in the night and made way for Diamond Lake, leaving your life behind. You gain a +1 trait bonus to Will saves and a +1 trait bonus against fear effects.

Magical Knack You were raised, either wholly or in part, by a magical creature, either after it found you abandoned in the woods or because your parents often left you in the care of a magical minion. This constant exposure to magic has made its mysteries easy for you to understand, even when you turn your mind to other devotions and tasks. Pick a class when you gain this trait—your caster level in that class gains a +2 trait bonus as long as this bonus doesn't raise your caster level above your current Hit Dice.

Class

Weapon and Armor Proficiency A barbarian is proficient with all simple and martial weapons, light armor, medium armor, and shields (except tower shields).

Fast Movement (Ex) A barbarian's land speed is faster than the norm for her race by +10 feet. This benefit applies only when she is wearing no armor, light armor, or medium armor, and not carrying a heavy load. Apply this bonus before modifying the barbarian's speed because of any load carried or armor worn. This bonus stacks with any other bonuses to the barbarian's land speed.

Rage (Ex) A barbarian can call upon inner reserves of strength and ferocity, granting her additional combat prowess. Starting at 1st level, a barbarian can rage for a number of rounds per day equal to 4 + her Constitution modifier. At each level after 1st, she can rage for 2 additional rounds. Temporary increases to Constitution, such as those gained from rage and spells like bear's endurance, do not increase the total number of rounds that a barbarian can rage per day. A barbarian can enter rage as a free action. The total number of rounds of rage per day is renewed after resting for 8 hours, although these hours do not need to be consecutive.
While in rage, a barbarian gains a +4 morale bonus to her Strength and Constitution, as well as a +2 morale bonus on Will saves. In addition, she takes a –2 penalty to Armor Class. The increase to Constitution grants the barbarian 2 hit points per Hit Dice, but these disappear when the rage ends and are not lost first like temporary hit points. While in rage, a barbarian cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration.
A barbarian can end her rage as a free action and is fatigued after rage for a number of rounds equal to 2 times the number of rounds spent in the rage. A barbarian cannot enter a new rage while fatigued or exhausted but can otherwise enter rage multiple times during a single encounter or combat. If a barbarian falls unconscious, her rage immediately ends, placing her in peril of death.
--------------------
GEAR
--------------------
Weight Item
( 5 lbs.) Traveler's outfit

Foreword

While I have little need for fleeting words bound to such fragile, temporary material as plant fibers, I am told these things matter a great deal to you tshamek so I bind my story to this 'book'. My scribe, a silly little tshamek with fingertips the color of pitch, tells me of great stone huts in tshamek cities where these ‘books’ reside with others of their kind. I am not clear upon the need to confine such things in tight tomb-like burrows but my ‘book’ will not find peace where it cannot feel the caress of the wind to carry the words woven on its pages to all that will hear. What follows is my story, a tale of a warrior of the Shoanti, a story from the lips of a spirit-walker. In reading this may the spirits forgive you for being a tshamek.

Chapter 1

I am called Cindersnake, born to the name Nitavesha of the Sklar-Quah, daughter of Crushes Skulls, one of the greatest warriors of the Shoanti, and Miska, a Varisian card reader whom my father won and wed in a bet against my mother’s father. I am told that the courtship and wedding was one of the grandest events of our quah’s history with over a dozen duels fought at the ceremony and thirty children conceived that night. Even to this day, young girls of the quah gossip and daydream of the fiery passion shared betwixt my father and mother. I confess of only remembering the roar of their hours-long fights, the crash of pottery shattering against the ground, and the terse looks given from across the camp.

You would not notice it as profoundly by looking at me at the time of this writing but I was born disfigured. Stories vary depending on the teller but I have heard that when I was born, my father gave such a great wail of suffering that the dogs around camp joined his cry for over an hour. The shamans say that it was some sin of my mother made manifest in the twisted length of my left leg. Regardless, I struggled in childhood to act like my peers but I found myself always lagging after the others or being left behind when they would climb cliffs.

I know many of you tshamek would make sounds of pity or fake some measure of empathy at the image of a young girl with a twisted leg fighting each day to be treated like any other child and I tell you now that such sentiment is unasked for and unaccepted. I am of the Shoanti. We do not bow before adversity, we persevere and conquer all challenges that life throws our way, we thrive were others would give up or die.

While many of the quah saw me with disgust for that which was weak, including my own father, I toiled and sweated with each day to make myself stronger, to turn my weakness into my strength. I might not be able to run as fast as even the slowest of our tribe but few my age, even the boys, would match my strength which was built up each day of my struggle. I worked to show my father, my quah, that though I might be made flawed that I was still Shoanti in my heart and in my bones.

It was in my early days when I was outpaced by the other children and struggling to catch my breath much less catch up to them that I first heard the spirits talk to me. I know that tshamek know little of the spirits that share the land with us but they live all around in every bush, under every rock, in the swirl of the air or the heat of the sun. The spirits told me stories and gave me encouragement, keeping me company in those times when it felt as if I was the only one fighting to survive on the whole of the Stroval Plateau. I took strength from these little friends which I built into a foundation of the person I am today.

The greatest point of my youth, really that of any Shoanti youth, is the time of the Rite of Passage. Each warrior of the quah must meet this challenge with bravery and strength. Our quah’s rite is the Burn Run. It entails a race across the plateau while trying to outrun a raging wildfire. Those that are not ready or favored by the spirits risk severe burns or even in some cases, death. When first I proposed to take the rite, my father and mother forbid it. Claims that my lame leg would lead only to my death were tossed about but I demanded my right to the challenge as a member of the quah and a Shoanti. Bound by the laws of our people, my parents were forced to let me try the Burn Run. I could see in their eyes that they were already planning for my funeral pyre.

The day of the Burn Run, my leg throbbed with thoughts of what it would have to endure that day. I gritted my teeth and prepared for my moment of glory, ignoring the constant nagging pain that morning. I could say that the rite was a simple thing for me to complete but that would be false words leaving my mouth to imprint upon this page, it was the most brutal undertaking I have ever been a part. The heat of the mile long fire raging at my back, the agony winding like a constrictor around my leg, the endless running to remain unbaked and thickening smoke that choked my lungs. Several times, I was forced to slow the fire rolling up behind me by felling the dry husks of still standing trees, creating fire breaks that gave me a few minutes to catch my breath and put scant extra distance between myself and the wildfire.

My salvation came in the way of a dry creek bed with steep banks. Shorn of any fuel for the fire, the bed was a welcome refuge from the intense heat. I came down the side of the creek at a jog that sent me into a tumble when I misplaced my foot on a loose stone. I was battered and bruised by the end of my fall that had me crashing into the den of a cindersnake. The viper was less than pleased to have an uninvited guest over, I recall with some mirth. I was so happy to not be running and burning, that when the serpent struck I caught it in midair and had broken its neck and spine before its fangs were anywhere near to piercing my flesh. Its blood was cool and refreshing after my ordeal outside and I think I lied there for an hour before finding the energy to stand and make my way across scorching ash fields to my quah’s camp.

I find secret pleasure to this day in the looks of surprise on the faces of my people when they saw I was one of those that had survived the rite. Begrudgingly, the shamans proclaimed that I had passed the Rite of Passage into adulthood and were worthy of bearing the title of Sklar-Quah brave. When I relayed my story of how I survived and the cindersnake that tried to see that I did not at the end, I was bestowed with my new name that every Shoanti warrior is given.

I am sure from laughter hidden behind their eyes, they meant my new name as a joke about my one good leg and quick temper at those that try to belittle me but I give not a care for their ridicule for I am Shoanti. I am strong as the mountain whose roots run deep. I am brave as the fire pelt that stalks the mighty aurochs that outweighs it by many stones. I am eternal as the sun that shines down on all of Golarion.

I am Nitavesha, daughter of Crushes Skulls and Miska.

I am she who talks with spirits and warrior of the Sklar-Quah.

I am Cindersnake.

For several weeks, the visions had plagued her mind. With the onset of evening, when sleep took Nitavesha into its embrace, she had forseen great calamity looming over all of Varisia. Her people were dying or enslaved all about her. The land was rent asunder while the spirits of the land wailed in eternal torment. The spirits spoke that she must make a long journey to a place of the sparkling lake, a diamond upon the waters, if any hope for the land was to be found. An answer and the danger would come from this place, this Diamond Lake.

Female Human Inquisitor of Sarenrae 1
NG Medium Humanoid (human)
Init +7; Senses Perception +7
--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 11, touch 11, flat-footed 10 (+1 Dex)
HP 10 (1d8+2); judgement of sacred healing 1
Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +5
--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Speed 30 ft.
Inquisitor Spells Known (CL 1):
1st (2/day)—Shield of Faith, Magic Weapon
0 (at will)—Guidance, Disrupt Undead, Light, Detect Magic
Domain Conversion Inquisition
--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 16, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 7
Base Atk +0; CMB +3; CMD 14
Feats Improved Initiative, Judgment Surge (1/day)
Traits Reactionary, Magnimar Noble
Skills Bluff +7, Diplomacy +8, Intimidate +8, Knowledge (nobility) +3, Knowledge (religion) +5 (+8 to identify the abilities and weaknesses of creatures), Perception +7, Sense Motive +8, Spellcraft +5, Survival +7 (+8 to track)
Languages Common, Elven
SQ judgement (1/day)
Gear traveller's outfit

Conversion Inquisition
Granted Powers: You are a powerful persuader. A honeyed tongue empowered by divine argumentation sways the indifferent and adversarial to your side.
Charm of Wisdom (Ex): You use your Wisdom modifier instead of your Charisma modifier when making Bluff, Diplomacy, and Intimidate checks.

Judgment (Su) (1/day): Starting at 1st level, an inquisitor can pronounce judgment upon her foes as a swift action. Starting when the judgment is made, the inquisitor receives a bonus or special ability based on the type of judgment made.

Once activated, this ability lasts until the combat ends, at which point all of the bonuses immediately end. The inquisitor must participate in the combat to gain these bonuses. If she is frightened, panicked, paralyzed, stunned, unconscious, or otherwise prevented from participating in the combat, the ability does not end, but the bonuses do not resume until she can participate in the combat again.

When the inquisitor uses this ability, she must select one type of judgment to make. As a swift action, she can change this judgment to another type. If the inquisitor is evil, she receives profane bonuses instead of sacred, as appropriate. Neutral inquisitors must select profane or sacred bonuses. Once made, this choice cannot be changed.

Destruction: The inquisitor is filled with divine wrath, gaining a +1 sacred bonus on all weapon damage rolls. This bonus increases by +1 for every three inquisitor levels she possesses.

Healing: The inquisitor is surrounded by a healing light, gaining fast healing 1. This causes the inquisitor to heal 1 point of damage each round as long as the inquisitor is alive and the judgment lasts. The amount of healing increases by 1 point for every three inquisitor levels she possesses.

Justice: This judgment spurs the inquisitor to seek justice, granting a +1 sacred bonus on all attack rolls. This bonus increases by +1 for every five inquisitor levels she possesses. At 10th level, this bonus is doubled on all attack rolls made to confirm critical hits.

Piercing: This judgment gives the inquisitor great focus and makes her spells more potent. This benefit grants a +1 sacred bonus on concentration checks and caster level checks made to overcome a target's spell resistance. This bonus increases by +1 for every three inquisitor levels she possesses.

Protection: The inquisitor is surrounded by a protective aura, granting a +1 sacred bonus to Armor Class. This bonus increases by +1 for every five inquisitor levels she possesses. At 10th level, this bonus is doubled against attack rolls made to confirm critical hits against the inquisitor.

Purity: The inquisitor is protected from the vile taint of her foes, gaining a +1 sacred bonus on all saving throws. This bonus increases by +1 for every five inquisitor levels she possesses. At 10th level, the bonus is doubled against curses, diseases, and poisons.

Resiliency: This judgment makes the inquisitor resistant to harm, granting DR 1/magic. This DR increases by 1 for every five levels she possesses. At 10th level, this DR changes from magic to an alignment (chaotic, evil, good, or lawful) that is opposite the inquisitor's. If she is neutral, the inquisitor does not receive this increase.

Resistance: The inquisitor is shielded by a flickering aura, gaining 2 points of energy resistance against one energy type (acid, cold, electricity, fire, or sonic) chosen when the judgment is declared. The protection increases by 2 for every three inquisitor levels she possesses.

Smiting: This judgment bathes the inquisitor's weapons in a divine light. The inquisitor's weapons count as magic for the purposes of bypassing damage reduction. At 6th level, the inquisitor's weapons also count as one alignment type (chaotic, evil, good, or lawful) for the purpose of bypassing damage reduction. The type selected must match one of the inquisitor's alignments. If the inquisitor is neutral, she does not receive this bonus. At 10th level, the inquisitor's weapons also count as adamantine for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction (but not for reducing hardness).

Monster Lore (Ex): The inquisitor adds her Wisdom modifier on Knowledge skill checks in addition to her Intelligence modifier, when making skill checks to identify the abilities and weaknesses of creatures.

Stern Gaze (Ex): Inquisitors are skilled at sensing deception and intimidating their foes. An inquisitor receives a morale bonus on all Intimidate and Sense Motive checks equal to 1/2 her inquisitor level (minimum +1).

Valsaya grew up in Magnimar, sheltered by her parents. Her family were quite succesfull traders, to the point where they managed to purchase a minor noble title. Life was good, and her faith meant little to her, with so many distractions in the big city. All of this changed when the authorities arrested her brother, and after a long drawn out trial that drained the family coffers, he was sentenced for collaborating with a local cult.

Valsaya, who all the time had kept insisting that her brother was innocent, was shocked when faced with the evidence of her brother's guilt. Her family fell in disfavor with the local nobility, and Valsaya felt her life in Magnimar was over.

Her faith in Sarenrae bloomed in her chest with a zeal she has never felt before. Valsaya blames herself for not being able to keep her brother on the right path, and is determined to redeem herself by helping people follow the light of the Dawnflower.

Valsaya has an intense personality. She has strong beliefs, and is reluctant to waiver from these beliefs. She's honest and just, and she will go to great lengths to protect those close to her, or those that can't protect themselves. When she speaks, she's soft-spoken and courteous, but Valsaya lacks a sense of humor, and has no tolerance for dishonesty or cruelty.

Valsaya, while not considered unattractive, seems to spend little attention to her physical appearance. Her short blonde hair is somewhat unkempt, and her gray-speckled blue eyes betray nothing of her underlying emotions. On her right cheekbone she bears a small crescent-shaped scar, that would be barely noticeable if it wasn't for the slight coloration. Her physical build is slim and sleek, yet even below her formless traveling clothes, you can see she's quite muscular for a young woman.

Fletcher Woodward
Male Halfling Bard 1
CG Small Humanoid (halfling)
Init +3; Senses Low-light vision Perception +4
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 11
hp 10 (1d8+1+1)
Fort +3, Ref +6, Will +3
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 30 ft.
Special Attacks bardic performance (standard action) (10 rounds/day, bardic performance: countersong, bardic performance: distraction, bardic performance: fascinate (1 targets) (dc 14), bardic performance: inspire courage +1
Spells Known (CL 2):
1 (3/day) Grease (DC 14), Silent Image (DC 14), Sleep (DC 14)
0 (at will) Prestidgitation (DC 13), Daze (DC 13), Ghost sound (DC 13), Detect Magic, Light
--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 10, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 14
Feats Point Blank Shot
Traits Miner, Maestro of Society
Skills Diplomacy (7) Escape artist (7) Knowledge arcana (5) Knowledge local (5) Perception (4) Perform [sing] (7) Stealth (7) Use Magic Device (7)
Languages Common, Varisian, Halfling
No gear yet
--------------------
Special Abilities
--------------------
Bardic Performance (standard action) (10 rounds/day) Your performances can create magical effects.
Bardic Performance: Countersong (Su) Counter magical effects that depend on sound.
Bardic Performance: Distraction (Su) Counter magical effects that depend on sight.
Bardic Performance: Fascinate (1 targets) (DC 14) (Su) One or more creatures becomes fascinated with you.
Bardic Performance: Inspire Courage +1 (Su) Morale bonus on some saving throws, attack and damage rolls.
Lightfoot alternate racial trait (base speed 30 feet)

Fletcher Woodward was born to a wealthy merchant family in Korvosa. He was well educated in a fine school, taught gentlemanly sports of archery and fencing and, as an only child, was groomed to become the next generation of the Woodward Trading Company.

In his teenage years Fletch became fascinated with music and dance, often spending every coin of his allowance to visit the many fine theatres in the city. He even joined a small weekend drama group, much-approved by his parents who felt his natural charisma would only be enhanced by the energy and acting abilities displayed there – fine qualities for a trader. However, coin and caravans were of little interest for Fletch, he knew he had been graced with a strong voice and a song in his heart and truly all he wanted to do is perform.

It wasn’t long after that he stole a meagre sum of money from his parents, knowing they would never approve of his decision not to follow in their footsteps. He used the money to secure a place in a travelling theatre group about to go on tour of Varisia, leaving a note for his parents that he had gone to chase his dream and someday soon, everyone back home will be proud of him. “

He began as a backstage hand but within a year his infectious energy and undoubted talent led to him gaining the affection and admiration of his fellow performers.

As the years passed Fletcher would perform with the band night after night, earning rave reviews and slowly gaining popularity – even in some of the bigger cities. It finally seemed as if his dream would be fulfilled.

However, the path of the musician can be fraught with danger because fame also brings jealousy. There were several performers that had been with the troupe many years before Fletcher joined and their resentment grew with every standing ovation, every thrown flower. It was in the small mining town of Diamond Lake that they finally made their move. The troupe had stopped in the town to take on supplies before pushing on to a career-defining performance in Magnimar.

The night before they were due to leave, three men in outlandish disguises attacked Fletcher as he slept, beating him badly and venting their years of frustration. Binding him, they hid him away in an abandoned mine shaft, hoping to conceal him long enough for the troupe to roll on. Members of the band were bemused by his disappearance but a forged note from one of the attackers explained everything.

“You hacks are dragging me down. I’ve gone on to Magnimar alone, I’ve outgrown this band and decided it’s time I flew solo.”

It was difficult to accept for many of them but what choice did they have? They left the town and Fletcher never saw them again.

He managed to eventually squeeze himself out of the ropes that were binding him but by then the caravans were long gone. Stranded, injured and without a penny to his name, Fletcher was distraught. He tried to sing for his supper but times were bad and performers in low regard in a frontier mining town like Diamond Lake. Vagrancy and begging just earned him a few lumps from the guards and got him moved on countless times. In the end he could only do what all the desperate seem to do in this town, join the mining gangs for dangerous work for minimum wage. Several months later, Fletcher is beginning to see no end to his plight. Barely earning enough to live on, he knows something drastic has to change in his life or he will die in the damned mines. But the song in his heart never faded and the lonely shafts are often filled with music and the sound of his voice. He still believes he can chase down his dream.

Gar Duncrick
Male Dwarf Rogue (Scout) 1
NG Medium Humanoid (dwarf)
Init +2; Senses darkvision; Perception +4
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+2 Dex)
hp 12 (1d8+3)
Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +1; +2 vs. poison, spells, and spell-like abilities
Defensive Abilities deep warrior
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Special Attacks hatred, relentless, sneak attack +1d6
--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 14, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 8
Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 14 (14 vs. Bull Rush, 14 vs. Trip)
Feats Two-weapon Fighting
Traits Indomitable Faith, Tunnel Fighter
Skills Acrobatics +6 (+2 jump), Appraise +2 (+4 to determine the price of nonmagic items with precious metals or gemstones), Bluff +3, Climb +6, Craft (stonemasonry) +0, Disable Device +5, Escape Artist +6, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +6, Knowledge (engineering) +3, Perception +4 (+5 to locate traps, +6 to notice unusual stonework, such as traps and hidden doors in stone walls or floors), Profession (miner) +4, Stealth +6
Languages Common, Dwarven, Goblin, Terran
SQ greed, hardy, slow and steady, stonecunning +2, trapfinding +1
Other Gear 0.5 SP
--------------------
TRACKED RESOURCES
--------------------
. . -none-
--------------------
Special Abilities
--------------------
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Deep Warrior +2 Gain a bonus to AC and grapple vs. Aberrations.
Greed +2 to Appraise checks to determine the price of nonmagical goods that contain precious metals or gemstones.
Hardy +2 Gain a racial bonus to saves vs Poison, Spells and Spell-Like effects.
Hatred +1 Gain a racial bonus to attacks vs Goblinoids/Orcs.
Relentless +2 Gain CMB bonus to bull rush/overrun while both self and foe stand on ground.
Slow and Steady Your base speed is never modified by encumbrance.
Sneak Attack +1d6 +1d6 damage if you flank your target or your target is flat-footed.
Stonecunning +2 +2 bonus to Perception vs unusual stonework. Free check within 10 feet.
Trapfinding +1 Gain a bonus to find or disable traps, including magical ones.
Tunnel Fighter +2 Initiative and +1 critical damage while underground.

"Gar' works at the Diamond Lake mines. His nickname comes from that he is a northerner, slippery as a fish, and has a mean streak when angered. He is quite agile as he climbs about framing and supports of the mine. Building and maintaining the safety network in the mine has given him experience in tools and abilities beyond just simple mining. But the workings are just not as profitable as he had hoped. He has even developed a way to swing two picks to increase his efficiency, but the ore is just not there is enough supply. So he struggles...he drinks...and he thinks things have to get better

Gar is 50 years old, standing 4'2" and 185 pounds. His blonde hair and beard are tied off, and miner's hat typically on his head even in off hours. His clothes are rough-spun and show the toils of hard work and hard drinking.