Corsario's Ire of the Storm (Inactive)

Game Master Corsario

I like my player's characters brave and heroic. Willing to save princesses and orphans, fight dragons and monsters, and stand for all that is good and defenseless.
I tend to ignore rules when they hinder the game, dislike min-maxing, and like roleplaying (but not self-centered drama).
In my games a character will not die unless his player is OK with it. But as Shepherd Book said about the bible and killing: "[is] somewhat fuzzier on the subject of kneecaps". Your character life is maybe protected, but his abilities, equipment and contacts are not.
I don't assign experience, but let the characters go up a level when it serves the story.
Don't really like alignment rules, specially lawful-chaotic, so I tend to ignore it. It will be hard for me to pick evil characters, and will prefer good ones.

Flavius was born to a teamster in Oparra. It's a fairly lowly lot in life, but Flavius was particularly gifted in natural talent, and his father recognized this. Saving every copper, his father managed to secure him a good education, certainly one well beyond his station. Flavius helped with the carting work when he wasn't studying, but his love really was academics.

Eventually progressing onto higher education, Flavius managed to secure a seat in one of the better Oparra academies even with some measure of fellowship to let him afford it. However he was required to tutor other students on the side to get by.

In his tutoring pursuit he ended up helping the daughter of a local count (they are fairly innumerable in Oparra) of actual station, Julia. Eventually their close association led to them getting involved in more than studying. Eventually the tryst was discovered, and given the disparity in their station, Flavius had to make a run for it. He managed to get on a ship leaving for Sargova barely ahead of some armed retainers. finding himself in Sargova with little to his name but some basic equipment, and his skill, the opportunity of a new colony was a gods send. He signed up eagerly and off he went to Pridon's Hearth.

Flaviius
Male human (Taldan) fighter (lore warden) 1 (Pathfinder Campaign Setting: Pathfinder Society Field Guide)
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +2; Senses Perception +5
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 12, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +2 Dex)
hp 12 (1d10+2)
Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +0
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee whip +6 (1d3+4 nonlethal)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (15 ft. with whip)
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Statistics
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Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 10
Base Atk +1; CMB +5 (+7 dirty trick, +7 reposition, +7 steal, +7 trip); CMD 17 (19 vs. dirty trick, 19 vs. reposition, 19 vs. steal, 19 vs. trip)
Feats Combat Expertise, Deadly Aim, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (whip), Improved Dirty Trick[APG], Improved Feint, Improved Reposition[APG], Improved Steal[APG], Improved Trip, Point-Blank Shot, Power Attack, Weapon Focus (whip)
Traits seeker
Skills Knowledge (arcana) +6, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +6, Knowledge (local) +6, Knowledge (nature) +6, Knowledge (religion) +6, Linguistics +6, Perception +5, Profession (driver) +4, Survival +4, Swim +7
Languages Azlanti, Common, Polyglot, Shory
Combat Gear oil (5); Other Gear studded leather, whip, backpack, candle (2), chalk, hammer, hemp rope (50 ft.), hooded lantern, piton (4), sack (2), tindertwig (4), torch (2), 7 gp
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Special Abilities
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Combat Expertise +/-1 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack.
Deadly Aim -1/+2 Trade a penalty to ranged attacks for a bonus to ranged damage.
Improved Dirty Trick You don't provoke attacks of opportunity when performing a dirty trick.
Improved Feint You can make a Bluff check to feint in combat as a move action.
Improved Reposition Reposition at +2, without an attack of opportunity.
Improved Steal You don't provoke attacks of opportunity when stealing.
Improved Trip You don't provoke attacks of opportunity when tripping.
Point-Blank Shot +1 to attack and damage rolls with ranged weapons at up to 30 feet.
Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.

As far back as Anthony could remember life had one rule. Don't get caught. Stealing bread? Don't get caught. Slipping through a gangs territory? Don't get caught. It was a pretty simple rule and it was one that Anthony learned to live by very quickly. She didn't know why she had to, for a while. She didn't understand the complexity of being a child no one wanted at first. All that mattered was survival.

Until the day she came across a bard.

The story he was telling seemed to bore many of those around him to tears but to Anthony, who had never heard it's like before, the complex weave he wove called. She sat in her hiding spot and listened well past any reasonable hour, when others had vanished and it seemed like the Bard was performing for no one. His tales of heroic warriors going to save helpless damsels kept her occupied long after the bard had finally given up and moved on. She dreamt of being in such a story, of slaying monsters with a long thin blade and a funny quip, of saving lives... Naturally she placed herself in the heroes shoes, the person rescuing the Damsel. Not that she knew what a damsel was at the time.

Still, on that day Anthony had found something that mattered to her just as much as survival, if not more! She wanted to be a hero. The fame and coin was a nice bonus but in truth she simply wanted to adventure, to be someone saving lives. It was a goal that would carry her beyond the streets, driving her to become something more then a simple Vagabond child.

From that day forth Anthony did her best to seek out opportunity. And where there were none to be had she made her own. First was swordfighting. She could ill afford a trainer and she was far to young to become a soldier, but time was an enemy to her young mind. So she found a stick and a rich merchant with an open yard and too much free time on his hands. There she watched the pudgy man as he learned from his instructor. Then she would find a private place and proceed to practice everything she had seen.

Next was reading and writing. Though Anthony was loathe to admit it, the truth was obvious. No Hero could be a Hero without the basics. So she found a school where the merchants sent their kids and, sitting in the rafters, proceeded to study alongside them. She had to steal paper, ink and a quill now and again but the students were disorganized enough that some missing supplies was never remarked upon.

And she learned. Oh boy did she learn. She spent so much time practicing and studying that she never had a chance to seek another bard out for more stories. She was too busy readying herself for her own. It was not enough though. No matter how much she practiced and how much she learned there was a clear barrier between her and her first real adventure. All the skills in the world would not put a sword in her hands. She needed coin.

This last part was the hardest. She barely managed a couple copper pennies a week, just enough to feed her and nothing more. She could try and steal from a wealthier merchant but there was a risk there. Merchants with enough gold to steal from went to the guard when it went missing. It made her decision difficult but she saw no other way. Anthony needed a job. Unfortunately thieving wasn't exactly a marketable skill. Door to door she went asking for work, risking pain and worse should a particular person take offense at her question. Merchants, craftsman and even a gang when she started to feel desperate. They all said no. She was too young, too small, too weak, too stupid. Their reasons varied but in truth came from the same place. They saw nothing but the Vagabond. No matter that she knew her numbers and letters, that she had practiced day and night with that wooden stick till she had some actual muscle.

It frustrated Anthony. She nearly gave up. Weeks of searching turned up nothing. Anthony felt as if time was running out. Barely twelve, she knew that the longer it took the less likely she was to break free of the streets.This time it was not determination, nor intelligence, nor wit that got Anthony what she sought. All those were important things to have as a Hero but there was on more that she needed to truly thrive in such a dangerous business. By pure happenstance Anthony was overheard pleading her case to an alchemist, telling the older man that she could and would do her best if only for a few silver a week. A man with pointed ears and ancient looking eyes entered the shop at that time and strode to the counter with a ticket. The Alchemist, seeing business at hand, shooed the girl away and went into the back to get whatever the elf was here for.

But while he was back there, the strangely young looking man with old eyes turned to the girl. "You can write." He said. "Can you do it well?"

Anthony was stunned and for a moment didn't know how to reply. When it became clear by an arched brow that the man was waiting for an answer, she quickly dove into her pocket with one hand and pulled out her work for the week. She offered the paper to him. He studied it for a moment, paying no mind to the dirt or the wrinkles, and then handed it back to her. "I've seen worse." He reached into a pocket and produced a slip of paper of his own. He offered it to her. "Go to this address tomorrow morning. Sunrise. If you are late, the door will be locked. If you are on time I will have work for you."

At that moment the Alchemist returned with a package and offered it to the elf. Seeing that Anthony was still there, the man behind the counter shooed her away. The girl scrambled out of the store clutching the small, thin paper with instructions tightly to her chest.

The next day Anthony arrived at the address an hour early. She had been up half the night cleaning herself at one of the local wells. A good impression was important, she had over heard once. She had already ruined the first when she met the man but now, hopefully, she could do better. The building was at the end of the street. It was surprisingly small, only a single story, and it's two windows were devoid of light. Had she come to early? There was no turning back now. Without hesitation, Anthony knocked... Or tried too.

The door swung open before her fist could connect.

Surprised, she stepped inside and looked around. As she did lights sprung to life, candles that had been dead now flickering with fire. Anthony nearly jumped. The door closed behind her. For a moment she stood in the hallway, uncertain what to do. Then she followed the light.

The light lead to the first room on the left. Opening the door, Anthony came face to face with something... Fascinating. Anthony had never seen so many books in her life. It was beyond amazing. There was also a desk, a small desk with a few candles near it and a chair sized for someone of her height. Anthony approached and saw a note. It simply said, 'Start at A. Carefully copy each text. When you are out of paper, you are done for the day.'

She looked up to the shelf of books and saw at the very top the letter A on the wood. Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned to look at all the books. Every wall was lined with shelves from floor to ceiling. She spent a moment, and only a moment, wondering just what the point was. Then she went to work copying the first book. And so each day went. At first the work was so strange that Anthony was alone in that home from sun up till sundown before she ran out of paper. As the weeks passed though her hand grew quicker and with it her mind. She went from finishing a book in two weeks to a book in a few days. She also started to learn from the books. Each text had fascinating things within that Anthony had never heard of before.

After six months, Anthony had successfully managed to use up all the paper provided to her in hours, leaving her plenty of time to return to her other tasks. For the first week she was worried that perhaps the man might not pay her but at the end of seven days, after the work had been done, she found a pouch waiting at the door with a silver coin. And so she found after each week another silver coin waiting for her. At first she hoarded them like treasure but as time went on she came to spend them, carefully. She still saved as much as she could, her goal always within sight, but she could not resist buying better clothing and food now that she could.

Three years passed. In that time, both the amount of work she was asked to do and the amount of silver she was paid increased. She even learned a couple languages simply from inscribing them! At the end of three years she had finished the entire room and had never felt more proud or sad. She had never seen the elven man again but he still gave her this job and for it to be ending so soon did bother her so. If she had put any thought into it perhaps she might have worried less though. On the day she finished the last book a note was waiting for her at the door. 'Return tomorrow. Start room 2.'

Room 2? Curious, Anthony turned back around and followed the hallway to the second door. It opened beneath her touch. Another room waited for her, another desk more appropriately sized now that she had grown, and another four walls covered in books. Smiling Anthony headed back out again, happy to know she would still have work on the morrow.

She would learn the next day, however, that room 2 was nothing like room 1. The books were not written in other languages. In fact, they barely had any words at all. For the most part they written in numbers. Complex equations littered each page and it was hard enough simply writing them to paper again that for the first few days Anthony did nothing but copy. Her mind was too quick to be satisfied at that, however. Just as she had the new languages she began to absorb what she was writing. It was slow going. Each bit took months. But by the end of another year, after successfully copying four books, Anthony had come to understand exactly what she was scribing this time.

Rather then books on any random subject beneath the sun Anthony was copying to a page magic. Real Magic. It wasn't long after this revelation that, upon finishing her work one day, she opened the first book again to see if she could make heads or tails of it. After that came trying to replicate it. Then came trying the spells in question out. They... did not work... But they did not fail to produce any result either. Instead of the intended consequence, creating a small orb of light, Anthony had created several small bubbles. It was enough to convince Anthony she was on the right track though and so she continued her experiments, careful to make sure nothing was out of place when she was done.

After seven years of working for the man without seeing hide nor hair of him, Anthony was certain she never would. Clearly he came here, who else would he trust to check the work and leave coin, but just as clearly he waited until Anthony was gone. At first this was strange. Anthony knew it wasn't like how most jobs went. As time went on she became used to it and started to learn that his absence was not, necessarily, a cruel thing. If anything the small kindnesses he showed by offering her comfortable chairs, ensuring the home was warm in the winter and even increasing her wage every single time he asked more work of her made him one of the kindest people she had ever met.

So on the day she heard of his death, Anthony was distraught. She had been on her way to the home to do another round of copying, while also puzzling out in her head a new spell, when a crier on the corner called out, "Wizard Salar slain in ally! Guards seek anyone with answers!"

She heard and saw the name so infrequently, since he didn't even sign his notes, that for a moment more Anthony kept walking. When it hit her, it hit her hard, and she spun about to stare at the crier on the corner. The young lad continued to yell about daily events and would likely get back to that story before long, but Anthony was running down the road long before he had finished the second headline. She arrived at the home and found the door unlocked once more. She swung it open, frantically looking for some sign that the crier was wrong.

Instead she found, waiting on the table where her coin normally sat, a pouch, a letter and a book. She dove for the second and opened it fast enough she almost tore the paper. What she saw was... typical of her employer. 'You are reading this because I am dead. This is the third such note I've written since I hired you. On the table is a pouch with your last payment and a spellbook I had made for you. Take them and leave this city. Tell no one of you worked for me. Be safe.'

Anthony felt numb. The world felt wrong. Her mind simply did not understand, nor did it want too. Instead of following the directions Anthony went to her desk in the second room. She was barely a third of the way through all the books. She sat down, holding the book left for her with her name written in gold lettering on the cover, and waited for the nightmare to end.

It was night when she was woken by a thumping sound Bleary eyed, she looked around the room for the source of the noise that had stirred her. She almost thought it was her imagination but then it happened again. Certain of what she heard this time Anthony carefully stood up and made her way toward the door. Peaking her head out, she looked left and right. The noise repeated itself. It was coming from across the hall, from a room she had never gone into before. Normally it was locked by tonight the door was ajar.

Anthony stepped forward, curious, worried. She peaked her head inside and she saw... Three men. Three large men, in fact. They were rifling through a room that looked almost exactly like the one she had left. Each one would pull a book off the shelves and then toss it aside. The thumping sound she had heard. Seeing the books treated that way annoyed Anthony and before her mind could process what she was about to do she kicked the door open further and conjured a spell. As light filled the air and her body glowed with magical light, she shouted, "What the hell are you doing to those books?"

The smallest turned to her and he offered her a wicked smile. "Ah. The apprentice. I was wondering when you'd turn up. You're... a bit young but hopefully you'll still be able to help us."

Apprentice? No, she was a scribe. Well, she had learned from Salar's books and he had left her a spellbook but that didn't really make her... "That really depends on who the hell you are. Don't try anything either," She scowled and raised a hand threateningly, "I can do more then make lights."

The small man, who was not that small, particularly compared to Anthony, continued smiling. "Of course, of course. I would never dream of it. Simply tell me where it is and there will be no trouble."

"Where... where what is?" Anthony demanded.

The smile flickered, faltered, but then reaffirmed itself. "IT. You know. You can't have been his apprentice for seven years and NOT know. Tell me where IT is... or we show you just how little we think of your magic tricks."

Anthony suddenly seemed to realize just how dangerous her predicament was. She wasn't helpless, particularly not with the magic armor clinging to her, but she was outnumbered and unarmed... and neither seemed to be a problem for the three thugs, she realized, as they drew blades. She took care to think of her next plan and then recalled that she had left her book in the other room. Damn it, she wasn't going to leave without it. She nodded slowly, "Alright. I'll... it's over here."

Anthony was not a good liar and she wasn't banking on them believing her. All she needed was a second of hesitation to grab the door and slam it shut behind her. She felt a satisfying click as the magic in the door locked itself immediately, something she had known would happen thanks to her ability to see the spell and how it worked. Then she ran. First she dove into the second room and grabbed her book, the pouch and even the note. Then she sprinted toward the front door. Just as she passed it, the door was smashed open behind her. Anthony did not look back, escaping into the open air of the night. Once more she kicked the door shut behind her, hoping it had the same enchantment as the others, and made feet through the streets.

She didn't stop moving for hours. It changed shape as her instincts kicked in and she found herself trying to hide rather then draw attention to herself, but she never stopped moving until she was certain no one had found her. Then, tired, her strongest magic expended for the day, Anthony found sleep in a back alley.

When the sun rose she was not ready to greet it but she forced herself too anyway. Bleary eyed, tired, and still worn down from the news of the day before Anthony spent a bit of time memorizing the spells she wanted ready for the day and then headed out. She was greeted by the din of the crowd moving through the streets and the sound of the criers. For a while she put them both out of her mind, her goals already planned out. Then she heard something she had not expected to hear shouted from one of the young men waving papers about. "Apprentice kills master! Young woman implicated in the death of Wizard Salar."

That was not good. Anthony immediately nixed the first three stops she wanted to make and headed for the only blacksmith she knew of in this part of the city. He... bartered hard, sensing her desperation, and in the end she parted with 30 gold for something she knew he would have sold for 20. She didn't have time to argue though. She paid the price and then quickly made her way to the docks. The next part of her plan was going to be dicey and if she was caught it would mean death. But if she didn't do it, if she stayed here, it would mean being blamed for Salar's death. She couldn't bear the thought.

She made her way to the cities port and purchased herself passage on a ship. Then she did it again three minutes later. Each time she made herself very visible, though each time she was also careful to have her style noticeably different. The first time her book was in hand and her newest package carefully entangled in her bag, making it harder to discern what it was. The second time the book was away, the package neatly over her shoulder and her newest item comfortably rested on her hip for all to see.

Sure enough as she made her way through those arriving and departing she saw signs of the three from the night before. They were hard to miss, as big as they were. And sure enough they had spotted her too.

When time came for the ships to be boarded Anthony made her way to the docks. She spent a moment readjusting herself and then boarded... Then, the moment she was onboard the ship, she pointed toward the docks below and whispered. Bright lights flared to life on the dock and even a spark of fire. Everyone turned toward the noise and at that moment Anthony made herself vanish. The next trick was going to be harder. She ran for the edge of the ship, praying it would be close enough to roof jumping that she could make it, and then she leapt. She made it. Barely. Pulling her light frame up, Anthony quickly made her way through the crowd looking down at the docks and then off the ship again.

This time, careful to blend in, Anthony made her way to the last ship at the pier. Though she was loathe to put someone else in a poor position she managed to slip her hand into a pocket and come out with the ticket she needed. She boarded quickly and vanished below deck, ignoring the guilt she felt as the person behind her was told they couldn't come aboard. Hopefully the 25 pieces of gold she had left, more then double the price of the ticket, would make up for the theft. Now below deck she found a corner to sit in and waited. It was all she could do. Either they would come aboard and take her away or the ship would set sail.

She sat there and draped her new Rapier across her legs. It was just like the weapon the Bard had spoken of in the stories. It was the weapon she had been learning to use for seven years, though she had never picked one up. When she was certain no one else would approach, wary of the blade, she let herself curl up and mourn for a lost friend.

The ship left port undettered. She had made her escape and hopefully sent any pursuit on a wild goose chase to other cities. As for Anthony? She had to check the half of the ticket she had left to see what her destination was.

Pridon's Hearth. She had never heard of it. Hopefully she could do some good there to make up for the lack she had done here. Maybe, one day, even become a real Hero instead of a coward.

So the mechanics do come with a question. Would I be able to use the Bladed Scarf Dancer archetype, but with a Rapier instead of a Scarf? I'd even be willing to take a Rapier that only has a 20/x2 crit range. It's not for cheese or anything like that. The idea of a Duelist with a bit of magic is what I'm going for and the Kensai is way to focused on super critting, giving up all the other fun stuff a Magus gets for it.

Anthony
Female Human Magus (Bladebound/Duelist?) 1
NG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init +4; Senses Perception +5
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 15, flat-footed 10 (+4 Dex, +1 Int)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +3, [ b]Ref [/b]+4, [ b]Will [/b]+2
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee Rapier +4 (1d6+4 18-20/x2)
Special Attacks Spell Combat - Rapier +2 1d6+4, Cast Spell of Standard Action
Magus(Bladebound/Duelist) Spells Prepared (CL 1):
Level 0 Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Read Magic
Level 1 (1/day) Mage Armor
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Statistics
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Str 8, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 12
Base Atk +0; CMB +4; CMD 13
Feats Weapon Focus- Light Blades, Fencing Grace, Additional Traits
Traits Reckless, Seeker, Vagabond Child
Skills Acrobatics +9, Knowledge (Arcana) +7, Perception +5, Profession (Scribe) +4, Sleight of hand +9, Spellcraft +7, Stealth +10, Survival +6
Languages Common, Elven, Draconic, Dwarven
Other Gear Rapier, Fine Clothes, Spellbook, 5 GP, 0 SP, 0 CP
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Special Abilities
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Practicied Hunter (Racial) Members of some human cultures train from youth to find and follow the trails of vital game and at the same time hide the evidence of their own passage. These humans gain a +2 racial bonus on Stealth and Survival checks, and Stealth and Survival are always class skills for them.

Arcane Pool (Su) (4/day) Expend 1 point from her arcane pool as a swift action to grant any weapon she is holding a +1 enhancement bonus for 1 minute.

Spell Combat (Ex) A fullround action take a -2 penalty to your attack in order to cast a spell with a casting time of Standard action. Must have one hand free. If casting defensively can take further attack penalty, up to 3, to increase concentration check by 3.

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Spellbook
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0 lvl-Acid Splash, Arcane Mark, Dancing Lights, Daze, Detect Magic, Disrupt Undead, Flare, Ghost Sound, Light, Mage Hand, Open/Close, Prestidigitation, Ray of Frost, Read Magic, Spark
1st lvl-Chill Touch, Mage Armor, Hydraulic Push, Obscuring Mist, Shocking Grasp, Vanish

Name: Godwyn Blaecwulf
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Enlightened Paladin
Alignment: Lawful Good (no paladin code, replaced with a quest for 'self perfection')
Deity: Irori
Languages: Common, Polyglot
Str (17) Dex (14) Con (14) Int (7) Wis (12) Cha (14) HP (12) Fort (+6) Ref (+4) Will (+5) CMB (+3) CMD (15)

Combat-Bardiche
* Reach
* To Hit: +4 (+3 with power attack)
* Damage: 1d10+4 (+7 with power attack)

Combat-Fists
* To Hit: +4 (+3 with power attack)
* Damage: 1d6+3 (+5 with power attack)

Trait
* Fate's Favored (+1 all luck bonuses)

Racial
* Darkvision (60ft)
* Sacred Tattoos (+1 all saves, luck bonus)
* City Raised (+2 knowledge local and proficiency whips)
* Burning Assurance (+2 Diplomacy)

Equipment
* Studded Leather (+3 AC, -1ACP, 25 gold)
* Bardiche (1d10, 19-20 crit, brace, reach, +2 vs sunder, 18 gold)
* Sling with 20 bullets (1 gold)
* 6 gold

Skills 2 per level
* Diplomacy: 1 skill point (+8)
* Sense Motive: 1 skill point (+5)

Background Skills
* Handle Animal: 1 skill point (+6)
* Profession-Shepherd: 1 skill point (+5)

Feats
* Combat Expertise (Free)
* Power Attack (Free)
* Weapon Finesse (Free)
* Improved Unarmed Strike (1d6 damage)
* Deft Maneuvers (lvl 1: Do not provoke and +2 on Improved Trip, Improved Disarm, Improved Dirty Trick, Improved Feint, Improved Reposition, Improved Steal)

Confident Defense
* At 1st level, when wearing light or no armor and not using a shield, an Enlightened paladin adds 1 point of his Charisma bonus (if any) per class level to his Dexterity bonus to his Armor Class. If he is caught flat-footed or otherwise denied his Dexterity bonus, he also loses this bonus.

Paladin
* Sense Perfection (At 1st level, at will, an enlightened paladin can detect life forces as if he were using a paladin’s detect evil class ability; however, instead of sensing evil creatures, he senses creatures that have a ki pool. Each such creature has an aura like a cleric of an aligned deity, and treats its current number of ki points as its Hit Dice for the purposes of this ability.)
* Aura of Law

Personal Trial
* Once per day, an enlightened paladin can as a swift action declare one target within line of sight as his personal trial. The Enlightened paladin gains a +1 insight bonus on attack rolls and damage rolls against that creature, to his AC against attacks made by the target, and on saving throws against the target’s spells and special abilities. This bonus increases by 1 at 4th level and every 4 levels thereafter, to a maximum bonus of +6 at 20th level. The personal trial effect remains until the target of the trial is dead or the next time the paladin rests and regains daily uses of this ability. At 4th level and every three levels thereafter, the Enlightened paladin can use personal trial one additional time per day.

Godwyn is the son of Ser Alix of Cheliax and Bonwati, a half-orc Mwangi native of Sargava. Ser Alix, previously of the Godclaw, was sent by Cheliax in one of their bids to end the bid for Sargavian independence. Unbeknownst to his masters, Ser Alix had already begun to doubt the teachings of the Hellknights and his allegiance to Cheliax. Despite his best attempts, the cruelties and devil worship of his people sat ill with him, and his attempts rationalize his loyalties felt hollow. Lacking the courage to outright rebel or flee, he followed orders as best he could. This ended when he and his fellow Chelaxians were ambushed in the wilds of Mwangi. His fellow Hellknights fought to the death, refusing to surrender. Ser Alix did not share their conviction. For months he was kept as a prisoner, and was guarded by Bonwati, a half-orc warrior who fought for Sargava. Suffice to say, guard and prisoner had friendship grow, which in turn became love.

Godwyn was born of their union. A child of two worlds, he has known nothing but Sargava as his home. Where most half-orcs grow up with a chip on their shoulder due to constant oppression, he has instead been raised by two loving parents. From his father, he has been instilled with the teachings of Irori, one of the members of the Godclaw. Ser Alix knew little of how to raise a child, and thought that the ways of self-perfection and striving to be the best man possible would make a good man out of him. He learned from his father self-discipline, martial arts, and the desire to do what is right, for Ser Alix felt that there was much to atone for in his life and lived vicariously through his son. From his mother, he inherited his great axe, the knowledge of how to use it, and his cattle. Where Ser Alix was a man of discipline, order, and theory, she was more practical in nature. Without a trade one cannot live. Without an axe one cannot protect one's trade. It was a simple world view, but one which he took naturally too.

Of his trade, Godwyn spent the majority of his young life herding aurochs in the wilds. These would be defended with axe and sling, before being brought to town for sale. A simple life, though not an easy one. It still afforded him with plenty of time to sit and meditate, and to try to emulate the ways of Irori. In this, he quickly proved proficient in the martial aspects of the faith, but completely failed in the more academic arts. His father, despite his best efforts, completely failed to teach Godwyn how to read. This was in part due to lack of materials, and also due to lack of interest. For what use were letters to him, when they couldn't feed or protect you? And besides, his mother was illiterate as well, as were all of his relatives on her side, and it didn't hurt any of them.

As of late though, he has become restless. Unnaturally powerful storms have rocked the tiny settlement just as the local lizardfolk tribe declared war on the colonists within. For Godwyn, this seemed to be a calling far more important than tending to herds of auroch. For what good was a solitary life of self-perfection, if it meant abandoning others in their time of need? As such he has ventured to town, this time not to sell goods, but instead to join the quest to protect his homeland from the new threat which faces it.

Alfeyna Earhart
Female Half-elf Unchained Monk 1
LG female humanoid (human, elf)
Init +6; Senses Lowlight Vision; Perception +8
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Defense
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AC 16, touch 16, flat-footed 12 ( +4 Dex, +2 Wis)
hp 15 (1d10+5)
Fort +3, Ref +6, Will +4
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Ranged Sling +5 (1d4+2/x2)
Melee Unarmed Strike +5 (1d6+2/x2)
Special Attacks Stunning fist (dc 13) 1/day
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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 13, Wis 15, Cha 8
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 19
Feats Improved Unarmed StrikeB, Dodge, Skill Focus (Acrobatics)B, Stunning FistB, Deflect ArrowsB [power attack, combat expertise, weapon finesse, feat tax freebies]
Traits Elven Reflexes
Skills Acrobatics +11, Climb +6, Knowledge (history) +5, Perception +8, Profession (Sailor) +6, Sense Motive +6, Swim +6
Languages Common, Elven, Polyglot
SQ AC bonus
Other Gear Monk's kit (Backback, Belt pouch, blanket, rope, soap, 10 Torches, 5 days Rations, Waterskin), 10 sling bullets 1 GP, 9 SP
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Special Abilities
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Stunning Fist: Announce before unarmed strike attack, if hits, DC 13 fortitude save or stunned for 1 round.

Well, she's a sailor, though she's never left home alone before. Both her parents are alive and were her teachers growing up. Studies were divided between martial and maritime, and she took to both well. People always fascinated her, but she has problems expressing herself. She knows people, but they almost never know her. She never developed rivalries or deep friendships, as the other students tended to just ignore her, and she happily just listened to their stories and watched their lives unfold. Her master wasn't as satisfied as she, and sent her on a punchquest, to the new sargavan colony where adventure brews.

In some cultures the bear is the symbol of the warrior - a juggernaut of muscle and bestial rage whose mighty roar makes the blood of foes run cold in their veins. For others, the bear is a healer and guardian of wild places first that only chooses violence as a last resort. Against all odds, it was the latter path that Bjorn Stonehand chose to honor his namesake.

Bjorn was born as the result of a dalliance between a mighty viking berserker and an ice witch of Irrisen. His mother, having little use for a son sired by a brute with no arcane talent traded her newborn babe for favor with her dark patron. In the witch-kingdom of Irrisen unwanted children often face such a fate (or worse) but in Bjorn's case he did not meet his end baked into bread for trolls or with his soul torn from his body and transplanted into a witch-cursed porcelain doll. Instead he was traded several times, eventually being gifted to a clan of relatively benign ice fey.

The child was made to work but the fair folk were not overly cruel and raised and educated Bjorn better than any orphanage in Whitethrone ever could have. This education even included helping him nurture the magical gifts passed down by his mother. More importantly, he never lacked for food allowing Bjorn to take full advantage of his father's genes until he grew until he grew into the classic image of a burly strapping ulfen warrior.

As Bjorn came of age he began to more and more resemble the brutish men his fey masters had little love for. Faced with their servant's unwanted transformation the fey granted Bjorn his freedom and sent on his way. Without a family and lacking any specific attachments within the world of man, Bjorn wandered. His travels took him across the Land of Linnorn Kings and south through Varisia. Along the way he dabbled in different trades wherever he was given the chance but it was herbalism and the healing arts that he was drawn to. Eager to further his understanding he sought out places and people of learning going as far east as mysterious Tian Xia.

Most recently his travels have brought him back west to Sargava's colonies in hopes of learning from the witchdoctors of the native Mwangi tribes.

Bjorn
Human (Ulfen) oracle (pei zin practitioner) 1 (Pathfinder Player Companion: Healer's Handbook 20, Pathfinder RPG Advanced Player's Guide 42)
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +0; Senses Perception +0
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 10, flat-footed 15 (+4 armor, +1 shield)
hp 13 (1d8+5)
Fort +4, Ref +0, Will +2; +2 vs. death
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft. (20 ft. in armor)
Melee longspear +3 (1d8+4/×3)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with longspear)
Oracle (Pei Zin Practitioner) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4)
. . 1st (4/day)—bless, cure light wounds, endure elements
. . 0 (at will)—create water, detect poison, guidance, light
. . Mystery Life
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 10, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB +3; CMD 13
Feats Fey Foundling[ISWG]
Traits child of nature
Skills Acrobatics -4 (-8 to jump), Diplomacy +7, Heal +4, Profession (herbalist) +8, Survival +6
Languages Common, Skald
SQ healer's way (1d6), master herbalist, oracle's curse (lycanthropy)
Other Gear hide armor, buckler, longspear, backpack, hemp rope (50 ft.), trail rations (2), waterskin
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Special Abilities
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Fey Foundling Magical healing works better on you
Healer's Way (1d6 hit points, 4/day) (Su) As a standard action (swift on self), touch channels positive energy to heal.
Lycanthropy (bear) You can only speak and understand language as if you were an animal while in combat.
Master Herbalist (Su) Can ID potions using Profession (herbalist) and in 1 rd.

Bjorn
Male human (Ulfen) oracle (pei zin practitioner) 1 (Pathfinder Player Companion: Healer's Handbook 20, Pathfinder RPG Advanced Player's Guide 42)
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +0; Senses Perception +0
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 10, flat-footed 15 (+4 armor, +1 shield)
hp 13 (1d8+5)
Fort +4, Ref +0, Will +2; +2 vs. death
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft. (20 ft. in armor)
Melee longspear +3 (1d8+4/×3)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with longspear)
Oracle (Pei Zin Practitioner) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4)
. . 1st (4/day)—bless, cure light wounds, endure elements
. . 0 (at will)—create water, detect poison, guidance, light
. . Mystery Life
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 10, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB +3; CMD 13
Feats Fey Foundling[ISWG]
Traits child of nature
Skills Acrobatics -4 (-8 to jump), Diplomacy +7, Heal +4, Linguistics +1, Profession (herbalist) +8, Sense Motive +4, Survival +6
Languages Common, Polyglot, Skald
SQ healer's way (1d6), master herbalist, oracle's curse (lycanthropy)
Other Gear hide armor, buckler, longspear, backpack, hemp rope (50 ft.), trail rations (2), waterskin
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Special Abilities
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Fey Foundling Magical healing works better on you
Healer's Way (1d6 hit points, 4/day) (Su) As a standard action (swift on self), touch channels positive energy to heal.
Lycanthropy (bear) You can only speak and understand language as if you were an animal while in combat.
Master Herbalist (Su) Can ID potions using Profession (herbalist) and in 1 rd.