Death-Lok's WotR Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Death-Lok

Traits: Exposed to Awfulness, Courageous

Skills: Use Magic Device +9, Knowledge: Planes +5, Knowledge: Arcana + 5, Intimidate +8

Background Skills: Handle Animal +5, Perform: Oratory +5

Feats: Eschew Materials, Spell Focus: Conjuration, Augment Summoning

Special Abilities: Bloodline: Abyssal, Bloodline Arcana: Summoned creatures get DR 1/good, Bloodline Powers: Claws - 7 rds/day

Spells Known: Acid Splash, Light, Detect Magic, Daze; Summon Monster I, Mage Armor

Combat Gear: Spear, Sling, 20 Sling Bullets.
Other Gear: 2gp, 8sp, Cold Weather Outfit, Sorcerer’s Kit, 2 Flasks of Alchemist’s Fire, Acid Flask, Carved Mammoth Ivory Talisman (worth 5gp), tribal paints.

It was the raid that finally damned him.

When he was seventeen winters old, a small host of lesser demons stole onto the Steppes from the Worldwound and attacked his tribe while making camp. The attackers seemed to single out Roga, subduing and kidnapping him during the fray. Led by the shaman, the tribe’s warriors led a counterattack. They drove off the demons and rescued Roga, near death but still alive, albeit covered in ritual wounds.

Roga recovered slowly, under the care of the shaman, who kept the ever more fearful tribesmen at arm’s length. Eventually the magic-touched youth regained his senses, emerging from weeks of fever and delirium. He tried to rejoin his kin, but the ordeal had revealed a terrible truth - that Roga’s magic stemmed from a demonic taint, if not in his blood then his very soul. Rumors spread of his grandparents who fought against the few waves of demons that spilled westward from the Worldwound; claims of their cowardice or succumbing to wicked temptations were passed along by rivals and other fearful folk. Roga, filled with righteous indignation for his besmirched forebears, attempted to shout down his detractors, calling upon both their ancestral stories and reminders of his own loyalty to the tribe.

It was all for naught, and even the tribe’s shaman assented to Roga’s exile from the steppes. The final advice he received from his mentor was to seek a brave and noble death, turning the abyssal power within him against the demons themselves in order to sacrificially purge himself of the corruption.

Roga travelled eastward, skirting the Worldwound along the Sarkora River. Rather than aimlessly plunging into the blighted lands and throwing away his life, Roga knew he must make his death meaningful in showing his defiance of the Abyss. Straying south and passing through Gundrun, he learned from the Sarkorian exiles about the mustering crusaders at Kenabres. He vowed to join their ranks and die while driving back the demons.

His quest was almost cut short. Not long after arriving in Kenabres, although he passed through the gate inspection, he was noticed by a gang of errant witch hunters. Despite being set upon and beaten, rather than his magic, Roga unleashed a vicious oratory that cowed the crowd into submission and affirmed his quest for redemption. Nevertheless, Roga fears that his time is running short and hopes that he can find his noble death in battle before being lynched in a Kenabren alley.

Roga largely remains quiet and morose, never given over to rowdiness. His eyes are restless, used to a life scanning the tundra horizon for pending dangers. He forces himself to avoid eye contact now that he has reached Mendev, fearful that he would again catch the attention of would-be witch hunters.

A number of scars criss-cross his body, remnants of brushes with claws and tusks. One particular set of scars, however, seem much more precise and ordered, almost forming a pattern before most minds dismiss the idea as madness. The lines of these scars are painted over with white tattooes. Additionally, Roga keeps a number of Hallit symbols painted over his heart and on his forehead, applied by hand from small clay jars of white and blue paint brought with him from his wild homeland.

Defense
AC: 19 =10 +6 armor, +1 dex, +2 shield
Touch: 11 =10 +1 dex
Flat-footed: 18 =10 +6 armor, +2 shield

HP: 13 (1d10 +3 Con)

CMD: 16 =10 +1(BAB) +1(Dex) +4(Str)

Fort: +5 =+2(class) +3(Con)
Ref: +1 =+0(class) +1(Dex)
Will: +3 =+2(class) +1(Wis)
Spell Resistance: 6 vs evil spells and spell-like abilities, and spells and spell-like abilities cast by evil outsiders
-1 penalty on saving throws against fire effects. Whenever you are adjacent to open flames or are on fire, you take a -1 penalty on all attack rolls, saving throws, and skill checks until you spend an entire round away from fire.

Offense
Speed: 30 ft. (20 in armor)

CMB +5 =+1(BAB) +4(Str)

BAB: +1
Melee:
+6 Scimitar, masterwork (1h:1d6+4 / 2h:1d6+6, 18-20/x2, S, 4 lbs.) or
+5 Morningstar, cold iron (1h:1d6+4 / 2h:1d6+6, x2, B and P, 6 lbs.)

Ranged: +2 Heavy crossbow (1d10, 19-20/x2, 120 ft., P, 8 lbs.)

Other:
Angelic Blood - each time you take bleed or blood drain damage, each adjacent undead creature or creature with the evil subtype also takes 1 point of damage.
Detect Evil - at will as the spell
Smite Evil 1/day - choose an evil target, gain +Cha to atk, +lvl to dmg, +Cha deflection bonus to AC. If evil outsider, evil dragon or undead - dmg on the first successfull attack increases to 2*lvl. Bonuses remain until the target is dead or until paladin rests.

Spell-Like Ability:
1/day - Endure Elements

Statistics
Str 18 (16 +2 race)
Dex 12
Con 16
Int 14
Wis 13 (11 +2 race)
Cha 17 (15 +2 race)

Traits:
Touched by Divinity (Campaign) - You begin play with a silver holy symbol of your chosen deity for free. In addition, choose one domain associated with your chosen deity. You gain the use of that domain’s 1st-level domain spell as a spell-like ability usable once per day (CL equals your character level).
-Deity: Sarenrae
-Domain: Sun
-1st-level domain spell: endure elements

Called (Faith) - 1/day upon rolling a natural 1 on an attack roll, you may reroll the die and take the second result instead.

Burned (Drawback) - You take a –1 penalty on saving throws against fire effects. In addition, whenever you are adjacent to open flames or are on fire, you take a –1 penalty on all attack rolls, saving throws, and skill checks until you spend an entire round away from fire. These penalties are not cumulative. (An instantaneous fire effect adjacent to you or affecting you causes this penalty to apply until 1 round after it is gone.)

Well-Provisioned Adventurer(Equipment) - Holy Warrior Package

Feats:
1[character]: Angelic Blood

Skills:
4 per level =2(class) +2(Int)
+1 favored class @ lvl 1
+2 background per level
5+2 total

+9 Diplomacy 1 +3(cha) +3(class) +2(race)
+7 Intimidate 1 +3(cha) +3(class)
+6 Kn. (religion) 1 +2(int) +3(class)
+5 Sense Motive 1 +1(wis) +3(class)
+5 Survival 1 +1(wis) +3(class)

Background:
+7 Handle Animal 1 +3(cha) +3(class)
+5 Profession (Guard) 1 +1(wis) +3(class)

*ACP -6

Languages: Common, Celestial, Dwarven, Elven

Racial features:
Ability Score Racial Traits: Aasimars are insightful, confident, and personable. They gain +2 Wisdom and +2 Charisma.
Native Outsider: Aasimars are outsiders with the native subtype.
Medium: Aasimars are Medium creatures and have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
Normal Speed: Aasimars have a base speed of 30 feet.
Darkvision: Aasimars can see in the dark up to 60 feet.
Skilled: Aasimar have a +2 racial bonus on Diplomacy and Perception checks.
Variant Aasimar Ability: You gain an additional +2 racial bonus to your Strength score.
Exalted Resistance: An aasimar with this racial trait gains spell resistance equal to 5 + her level against spells and spell-like abilities with the evil descriptor, as well as any spells and spell-like abilities cast by evil outsiders. This racial trait replaces celestial resistance.
Languages: Aasimars begin play speaking Common and Celestial. Aasimars with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following languages: Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Gnome, Halfling, and Sylvan.

Class Features:
1[paladin]: Aura of good, detect evil, smite evil 1/day

Gear/Possessions
Masterwork Breastplate (AC+6, MDB+3, ACP-4, ASF 25%, 30 lbs.)
Heavy Steel Shield (AC+2, ACP-2, ASF 15%, 15 lbs.)

Scimitar, masterwork (1d6, 18-20/x2, S, 4 lbs.)
Morningstar, cold iron (1d8/x2, B and P, 6 lbs.)
Heavy crossbow (1d10, 19-20/x2, 120 ft., P, 8 lbs.)
10 bolts (1 lb.)

Alchemist’s Fire (3) (1 lb.)
Holy Water (4) (1 lb.)
Oil of Bless Weapon (1 lb.)
Potions of Cure Light Wounds (2) (1 lb.)
Potion of Protection from Evil (1 lb.)
Sunrods (3) (1 lb.)

Silver Holy Symbol (1 lb.)

Backpack: (24 lbs.)
bedroll, belt pouch, candles (5), chalk (5 pieces), crowbar, flint and steel, holy symbol (silver), mess kit, sack, silk rope (50 ft.), trail rations (5 days), waterskin

Carrying Capacity: Light 0-100 lbs. Medium 101-200 lbs. Heavy 201-300 lbs.
Current Load Carried 79 lbs. (103 lbs. with backpack)

Money: 7 GP

Background
Idiel was born in Kenabres. He was mainly raised by his mother, a priestess of Sarenrae while his father defended the borders of Worldwound and was out on other missions. Idiel always felt connected to Sarenare, and not only because of his mother. There was something else. He sometimes received messenges and vague visions, prophesizing about his future.
He did not have any doubt when he joined the Church and later became a servant of his god. Idiel did his very best: he followed Sarenrae teachings, helped at the church, learned from the Crusaders and did guard duty inside the city. It paid off - after years of training and service, he was accepted into Mendevian Crusaders and finally was able to follow his father's footsteps.

Appearance
Idiel is a tall, well-built man. He has bright green eyes, short silvery hair and beard. On the right side of his neck and down to the arm and waist there is a bad burn - he got it on one of his patrols when a stray demon ambushed them and conjured massive fire.

Sarenrae Paladin Code:
The paladins of the Dawnflower are fierce warriors, like their goddess. They provide hope to the weak and support to the righteous. Their tenets include the following adages.

• I will protect my allies with my life. They are my light and my strength, as I am their light and their strength. We rise together.
  
• I will seek out and destroy the spawn of the Rough Beast. If I cannot defeat them, I will give my life trying. If my life would be wasted in the attempt, I will find allies. If any fall because of my inaction, their deaths lie upon my soul, and I will atone for each.
  
• I am fair to others. I expect nothing for myself but that which I need to survive.
  
• The best battle is a battle I win. If I die, I can no longer fight. I will fight fairly when the fight is fair, and I will strike quickly and without mercy when it is not.
  
• I will redeem the ignorant with my words and my actions. If they will not turn toward the light, I will redeem them by the sword.
  
• I will not abide evil, and will combat it with steel when words are not enough. I do not flinch from my faith, and do not fear embarrassment. My soul cannot be bought for all the stars in the sky.
  
• I will show the less fortunate the light of the Dawnflower. I will live my life as her mortal blade, shining with the light of truth.
  
• Each day is another step toward perfection. I will not turn back into the dark.

STR:20 DEX:14 CON:17
INT:12 WIS:17 CHA:17

BAB:+1 FORT:+5 REF:+2 WILL:+5
AC: HP13

Background Skills 2
Handle Animal +7 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 3 CHA)
Linguistics +2 (1 Rank, 1 INT)
Adventuring Skills 5
Diplomacy +7 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 3 CHA)
Heal +7 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 3 WIS)
Knowledge Religion +5
Knowledge Planes +2
Sense Motive +7 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 3 WIS)

Race Abilities
Skilled, Bonus Feat

Class Abilities
Aura of Good, Detect Evil, Smite Evil

Feats
Power Attack

Traits
Touched by Divinity or Exposed to Awfulness, Armor expert

Languages
Common, Celestial, Demonic

“Mother, is that you? What have you done to me?”

Her mother’s head turned so quickly at the sound of Windi’s voice it seemed as if her neck would snap.

“Quiet, there will be time for you soon,” The woman said in a voice that wasn’t her own and in a language, that wasn’t common, but Windi could understand.

“Mother please untie me. I can help you.” The ropes around her wrists were tighter than those on her ankles and they dug in as she pleaded with the thing that had once been her mother.

“I SAID QUIET,” the woman yelled and went back to pacing and mutter to herself. Her head twitched abruptly from time to time as if there was a battle going on in her head. Windi followed her with her eyes. This went on for several minutes as Windi struggled silently trying to free herself. When all seemed futile she tried a different approach. Be forceful Windi you won’t get what you want by letting them roll all over you. A mantra she had been telling herself for years.

“Who are you what have you done to my mother,” she demanded, mustering as much courage as she could.

The woman stopped and turned, slowly this time.

“Ahh, some fire in your daughter. I like that. What will you do little girl? What can you do?” her mother asked in the same demonic voice she had used before but just then another voice could be heard this one softer and pleading. It was the voice that had been in Windi’s dreams. The voice of a woman. And for a moment her features became softer. Delicate. And Windi could see that her mother had in fact been quite beautiful.

“Please don’t hurt her she’s just...” But the voice was cut off.

“It’s not who she is, it’s who she will be,” The demon was back and was crossing the room to where Windi kept a small dagger. Picking it up she crossed the room briskly moving towards the bed.

Windi struggled against her bonds but the knots were to tight and all she managed to do was shift her hips away from the approaching woman.

“Please mother, please stop” Her voice was shaking, pleading to the woman who now stood over her brandishing the dagger.

“You must die,” came the vile voice as her mother raised the dagger above her head, but just then something came over the woman her entire body grew rigid and her face twisted into a grimace.

“I’m sorry my darling. Save us,” where the last words spoken in the voice of an angel as the woman plunged the dagger into her own heart. “there was a scream like wind rushing through cracks in a dense forest. Windi let out a scream as the woman convulsed and fell to the floor splattering her with blood. And she wept.

The next morning Windi awoke fatigued from a night that felt like a nightmare and looked around the room but could not see her mother. Was it all a dream? She asked herself and was answered with the rough scratch of hempen rope binding her hands and feet. The rank smell of blood filled her nostrils and she looked over to find her mother’s body laying on the floor. She screamed for days growing horse and falling asleep from exhaustion only to awake to the same hellish seen. Her house was on the outskirts of town and the townsfolk had little reason to venture into the small alcove in the hills. And so, the days passed and her hunger and thirst grew. As did the stench. The overwhelming stench of death and decay. It was a hot summer and the body grew more rancid with every passing hour. Windi’s body grew thin and her lips cracked. Where once where nails only bloody stumps remained from her futile clawing at the rope.

On the fourth night after her mother had taken her life Windi began hallucinating she saw her mother and father holding hands as she ran ahead of them through the tall grass. They looked happy. But then the sky grew black and clouds descended on the family. Her mother was ripped away from her father and he collapsed. Windi let out a scream as a deep laugh began to rumble through her chest.

“She is mine and soon you will be too,” The voice was that of the demon and it taunted her. She was alone in the field now and it was dark. But then a second voice joined in and this one she had never heard before and couldn’t make out what it was saying. The voice was female and spoke with authority. A light began to part the skies. Slowly at first, just a sliver, but as the voice grew louder so too did the light glow brighter. Until it was blinding and all of a sudden, her wrists and ankles were burning. But this wasn’t part of the dream she felt as though she had been set afire. And all of a sudden it was over. Windi opened her eyes and gasped her bindings were smoking still tied to the bed and her mother was still a putrid mass on the floor but the ropes around her wrists and ankles no longer bound her. She sat up and looked at her wrists. They burned beyond description but there were no visible marks anywhere on her body. She felt restored no longer hungry or thirsty she rose from the bed and flexed her muscles. Everything seemed to be as it had been before. Finally, something at the table caught her eye. A large backpack. It hadn’t been there before had it? No, she would have noticed that a piece of paper lay on the table next to it weighted down by a hunk of metal. Windi picked up the paper and examined it. It looked as if the letters had been burned into the paper. It read:

Windi, here is a gift to get you started on your journey.
It will not protect you from the trials to come.
But should serve you well until you find something better.
Save us in my name.

She turned the letter over but the back revealed nothing. She lifted the piece of metal that was sitting on the note and noticed that it wasn’t ordinary metal but rather an angelic ankh, the holy symbol of Sarenrae, goddess of fire and light. Searching through the bag Windi pulled out a suit of brightly polished mail as well as a scimitar, the weapon of choice of the follows of her faith. And something took hold of Windi in that moment. An embracing of a destiny.

The following days were spent cleaning the house and burying her mother in the yard next to her father. She scrubbed the house from top to bottom getting rid of the bloodstained sheets and burning them and the rags in a pyre out back.

One week, one week since she was awoken by a goddess Windi donned the armor and pack, taking with her only the essentials and walked out the front door. She knew where she was headed, the World Wound.

She wore her golden hair down as she strode through town in her gleaming armor and all that saw her stopped what they were doing and stared. She was the most beautiful sight any of them had ever seen. On her breast, she wore the symbol of her goddess attached to a chard piece of blood stained hemp. But no one took any notice to the symbol, they were transfixed by the beautiful woman, the daughter of the town drunk, now clad in armor with a sword at her hip. Standing as tall as most men her long stride took her quickly up the dirt road and before anyone had a chance to react she was gone. She had a vague idea of the direction of the World Wound and so that was the direction she must go.

But as August grew, so did his desire to see the outside world after hearing all the sounds of life and activity from outside his walls. It was only with deft feet and hands--as well as many weeks of trial and error--that he worked the locks his mother used to keep him inside without waking her. What followed was over a year of nights spent exploring the sprawling streets, homes, and people within Kenabres. The people were a particular interest of his as many spoke a language he could not understand and were so much different in appearance to him.

But though he left his mother sleeping in their home, her lessons and warnings about those who lurked outside their walls stuck with him. It was his fear of their supposed twisted depravity and cruelty that kept him hidden in alleyways, but it was his curiosity that kept him close enough to see and hear the strange people's interactions with one another.

It was only a matter of time before his curiosity outweighed his fear, but before that could happen August was discovered by some of the strange men who wore metal over their bodies. They shouted their foreign language at him and pointed with hands encrusted in the shining armor. He tried to run home, but more of the metal men cut off his retreat. In his overwhelming fear and desperation for escape, August fled the city itself and past the protective runestones, unknowingly running towards a place with far more danger lying in wait.

It was here, admits cultists and demons, that August truly felt lost and it was here that he met with the Pretty-Sad Lady. Soon to be captured by a group of cultists, it was she who helped him escape their rituals and it was she who led him to safety. He never really knew who she was, but she had to have known him. He was different than her and yet she did not shout at him or try to hurt him. Instead, she helped him.

When August was picked up by a patrol and brought back home, his experience with the woman changed him. He grew to idolize her and worked hard to live by the example he believed she had set for him. Over the years, he learned the art of the bow--the same art he had watched the woman perform in order to protect him--and the worship of the Goddess Desna whose symbol the woman had always clutched. And knowing that the woman could very well speak a language he could not understand, August studied hard to expand his languages beyond the borders of Abyssal that he had learned from his mother. In his hopes to one day meet the woman again and one day help her like she had helped him, August grew to be very generous and kind-hearted believing that his helping of the people around him will give him the experience he needed to properly help the Pretty-Sad Lady.

Through his faith, his good nature, and experience with a bow it was only natural for August to eventually be chosen to join the ranks of the crusaders when he came of age. And, believing that the Pretty-Sad Lady was still somewhere among-st the vile demons and cultists in her never-ending quest to help people, August was more than willing to comply.

No longer being able to keep his birth a secret, Apriss could only watch her son grow into the man she feared he would become. A man eager to join the very ranks of the crusaders where her father and husband had lost their lives in the line of duty many years before.

BAB:+1 FORT:+4 REF:+6 WILL:+2
AC:17 HP:12

Skills with Ranks
Climb +6
Heal +5
Knowledge(Geography) +6
Knowledge(Nature) +6
Perception +5
Ride +8
Stealth +10
Survival +5

Race Abilities
"Darkness" spell-like ability, Darkvision

Class Abilities
Favored Enemy(Evil Outsider), Track, Wild Empathy

Feats
Point Blank Shot

Traits
Chance Encounter, Indomitable Faith

Languages
Common, Abyssal, Infernal, Dwarven