Doom Comes to Dustpawn

Game Master shrodingerscat

I would say that he's only small like a dwarf is small, which is only in name, he's still size M. As long as that's the case, and the stats are as you've put them now, they look right.

That would change the young template to more of a penalty, but I suppose it makes sense. I'll change him back to medium and describe him as dwarf short!

Is this Trait available?

Just curious... ;)

Thank you for asking first, no it is not.

Okay, good. Glad to have that cleared up. :)

Just a minor change -- you've listed it as Divine Bond on your sheet, but it's Divine Body (at 5th). I know it functions as and replaces it so, yeah. Just being a stickler.

Was Blue born and raised in Tian Xia or just worked there and learned the local language over the years? Because if she was born and grew up in Tian Xia, then Tien would be a regional language and a freebie/bonus language -- giving you one more language to add to your list.

Your INT is 16 (+3).

I noticed that on your character profile page for Bart you've listed Common, Elven and Halfling.

Applying your character's Intelligence modifier to the number of bonus languages means you have one more language you can choose from (Common plus 3 bonus languages for your young human). So go ahead and choose another one, please.

I noticed and left a comma there so I didn't forget. XD I'm still thinking of one more Language to take. Any suggestions?

Oh, Okay.

The population of Dustpawn is made up of the following: mostly Human, then Dwarves, Halflings, Gnomes, Half-Elves and a few Elves.

I think Dwarven would be a good language to have (since you've already chosen Elven and Halfling). I leave it up to you, however, to decide. :)

-nods- I was hoping for a hint to more obscure languages but that works. As a heads up, neither Alar nor Bart are done. Whats there (aside from the languages) should be good, but I still need to total out their equipment, write out their abilities as well as Barts spells. I'll be doing that after I finish the scene I'm writing for Bart hearing about the invitation.

I thought as much but I'm not giving anything away ... so I gave the most obvious answer. ;) You can choose a more obscure language if that is your choice...

And, thanks, will wait until you are done with Bart and Alar.

Tark knew well Dustpawn and its environs - the dwarf had travelled there about 20 odd years past, following a lead regarding the old, abandoned mineshafts and iron lodes in the region - having managed to stubbornly convince some of his Boulderbreaker kin to start on the trek with him based on a decades old journal from his now very old grandfather - Jerl Boulderbreaker - they trudged directly through Druma from the Highelm region until they entered Isger traversing the Conerica Straits.

It wasn't hard to find the exact cave complex they had been looking for, and in spite of the fact that most locals scoffed at the idea of reopening the old mines, the sturdy dwarves continued on their task - setting up a base camp on the mountain slopes, practically in view of the small town itself, and beginning their incursions - shoring up entrance tunnels, recovering samples of soil and stone, and patiently moving further and further into the mountains, as dwarves do.

Stubborness was all that kept them pushing further and further for more than two years - some small, irrelevant veins could be found, but nothing really promising or providing enough wealth to make it all worth it - the group of dwarves took it all in stride - "Tis what we do ain'it?" - they would jest around the fireplace, munching on hard pieces of jerky, completely covered in dust and grime from their incursions. Fact is, the only consistent findings they ever came up with were the very occasional goblin band, large underground wildlife - mainly snakes, eventually this or that band of smugglers when their path took them closer to the surface, and a whole lot of vast underground mineshafts sometimes populated with stuff worse than goblins.

Still, whatever sliver of valuable material they could haul out, always in the hope of striking some mother lode, was worked upon until it was in an acceptable condition for trade, and taken to Dustpawn, the dwarves having become a frequent sight in town - the initial jokes died out after a couple of months, and their persistence actually gained them the locals respect for tenacity, and what they called an 'eye on the prize' - whatever goods they brought in were well crafted and of good quality - not exceptional as the ore did not allow for it, but definitely dependable.

The Mineshaft Inn was a natural hangout place for the team - the ale was about as best as possible in the area and stout enough to please them. The good, hard working nature of these outsiders eventually gained its way into the population, not unused to the presence and attitude of dwarves, with a trading route to Druma right on their doorstep, but these seemed to had taken residence, and the people simply began recognizing and greeting them when they were about the place. More then once they defused a bar brawl at the Inn with strong fists, and heads resilient as stone. That was when he met Dalviss - amidst a fist fight, when he got one of the brawlers from atop the then young man, they exchanged a bloody smile, and Tark managed a wink, just before being hit by a chair.

Dustpawn was far enough to the North and East to avoid major pain when the Goblinblood Wars erupted, but it brought about a definite change in Tark and his companions who left as soon as the first news of goblin incursion were known - they regularly came back to Dustpawn, battered and bruised, for some RnR [yep, even dwarves take RnR :D] - bringing news of the ongoing strife to their now friends and acquaintances in town - news of a losing war...

One of the last times the dwarves returned to town it was not for RnR, but instead because the goblin army was almost at its gates - they spent countless, dreadful days making their best to aid in the defense of Dustpawn as the goblinoids (including powerful hobgoblin warlords and their goblin slaves) pressed ever further - those were hard times indeed, of dread, of fighting for one's life, and running without ever turning back.

------------

The War was finally over - the goblin forces pushed back by an alliance of military forces from Andoran, Cheliax, and Druma, and in its wake stood a ravaged nation, suffering from terrible losses, and thousands left to fend for themselves after the hostilities ceased. It inevitably led to chaos and banditry sweeping through Isger's hinterlands... And the dwarves remained, now out of a sense of loyalty towards those they had befriended during the war - helping to rebuild and defend as they could, while the inhabitants of Dustpawn tried to get back on their feet. Once some Chelish organization started moving through the area, offering support out of their monasteries spread throughout the country, and indoctrinating Isger's youth into the faith of the Prince of Law, Tark and his companions retreated more and more into Dustpawn, until they felt the place was safe and well on its way to recovery.

The hopes for any success in the mines finally depleted, the land back on track for whatever they would become but essentially free of goblins, one day they picked up their mining gear, weapons, armors, trophies from the war, and simply left, returning to their ancient homeland in the Highelm region.

HP: 10 + 2 + 4d5 + 20 + 8 ⇒ 10 + 2 + (4, 1, 5, 4) + 20 + 8 = 54

Tark Boulderbreaker
Male Dwarf Fighter (Tactician) 5 (Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Combat 0)
CG Medium humanoid (dwarf)
Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +6
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Defense
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AC 21, touch 14, flat-footed 18 (+7 armor, +2 Dex, +1 deflection, +1 dodge)
hp 54 (5d10+10)
Fort +7, Ref +4, Will +3; +2 vs. poison, +4 vs. spells and spell-like abilities, +1 trait bonus vs. spells, spell-like abilities, and poison
Defensive Abilities defensive training (+4 dodge bonus to AC vs. giants)
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Offense
--------------------
Speed 20 ft.
Melee dwarven waraxe +9 (1d10+4/×3) and
. . masterwork cold iron dwarven longhammer +10 (2d6+6/×3) and
. . masterwork silver heavy mace +10 (1d8+4)
Ranged sling +7 (1d4+4)
Special Attacks +1 on attack rolls against goblinoid and orc humanoids
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Statistics
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Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 8
Base Atk +5; CMB +9; CMD 23 (27 vs. bull rush, 27 vs. trip)
Feats Breadth of Experience[APG], Combat Expertise, Dodge, Power Attack, Steel Soul[APG]
Traits friend in every town, glory of old
Skills Climb +6, Craft (weapons) +8 (+10 on checks related to metal or stone), Diplomacy +8, Intimidate +5, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +8, Knowledge (engineering) +8, Knowledge (geography) +8, Knowledge (history) +4, Knowledge (local) +10, Knowledge (nature) +4, Knowledge (nobility) +8, Knowledge (planes) +4, Knowledge (religion) +4, Perception +6 (+8 to notice unusual stonework), Profession (miner) +8 (+10 on checks related to metal or stone), Sense Motive +8, Survival +9, Swim +6; Racial Modifiers craftsman
Languages Common, Dwarven, Goblin, Orc
SQ armor training 1, tactician
Other Gear +1 breastplate, dwarven waraxe, masterwork cold iron dwarven longhammer, masterwork silver heavy mace, sling, cloak of resistance +1, ring of protection +1, 150 gp
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Special Abilities
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Combat Expertise +/-2 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack.
Craftsman +2 on Craft/Profession checks related to metal/stone.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Defensive Training +4 Gain a dodge bonus to AC vs monsters of the Giant subtype.
Glory of Old You receive a +1 trait bonus on saving throws against spells, spell-like abilities, and poison.
Hatred +1 Gain a racial bonus to attacks vs Goblinoids/Orcs.
Power Attack -2/+4 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Steel Soul Hardy's save vs. spells and spell-like abilities becomes +4
Tactician (5 rds, 1/day) (Ex) Grant the use of your teamwork feats to all allies in 30 ft.

That backstory works for me. So the dwarves went back to their ancient homeland and start from there ...

One thing: They mined iron ore in Dustpawn, not silver. ;)

So, Dalviss knows of your Dwarven lot and he would have sent missive to you to return to Dustpawn to help with the latest mystery? Is that the angle you're going with? :)

How important to your character concept is it that you're an Aasimar? Would you be willing to change it?

Sorry to nitpick, but I'm still seeing reference to Tark being in Dustpawn and interacting with Dalviss. Take that out, and I'm good with it. I like all the work you did coming up with a reason a good number of dwarves are about.

Beer tasted awful. Bart had been hoping, for all the talk he had heard of the drink, that it would be one of the best things he had ever had. It simply made him bury the awful taste with the meat he had been given, which was hot enough to simply burn it right off his tongue. He got some strange looks from the man behind the pub but Bart knew how to play the game and ignored the guy.

Aside from being hot, the meat really wasn't that good either, and Bart began to hope that maybe beer was better tasting when it wasn't from this little piss hole. It definitely wasn't his favorite, but with the rain outside falling as it was tonight he didn't really have much choice but to stop here. The nearest town in either direction was at least two days and that was while riding Alar, which Bart could only do at night.

He glances back behind him to the table in the corner. There was a group of four mercenaries. The Red Sashes or something like that, he hadn't really been paying attention. Right now they were the only ones aside from Bart in the inn, but they were loud enough that Bart could hardly tell the difference when he wasn't looking. The group was right now talking about jobs. Or laughing, rather. The story they were just finishing up wasn't terribly interesting. Something about a farmer that had tried to hire them to save his wife.

Barts ears burned at some of the phrasing they used to the describe the woman they 'saved', apparently naked and in bed with the man she had willingly run away from her husband with. He turned away. Hopefully stuffing his face would make it easier to drown out their loud voices. And then one said, "Hey, you remember that message going out? That guy from Dustpawn that you owe a couple gold? We going to go to that?"

They were all drunk, so the words weren't quite as clear as that, slurred and stumbling. But Bart was able to pick out the meaning. It was a surprisingly serious question from the man who had apparently started all of the storytelling. But Bart quickly realized from the snickers they were all holding back that it was just a lead in to another story. "Can you believe it? From the stars above, a SHIP of all things crashed into the ground! And he wants people to go and check it out! If I weren't afraid of ruining our reputation I'd bring us down there in a heart beat to take that fool's offer and his gold."

"Hey, kid, you okay?" The deep voice of the bartender draws Barts eye. The young lad looks up to the man, then down to the food he had dropped on the counter before him, half eaten. The words of the mercenary behind him continued to ring in his ear so he could only nod numbly for a few moments. Unfortunately, after laughing about the fool they called Dalviss Crenn, instead going on to other weird stories. But their words continued to move through his mind and long after they retired, Bart sat there, thinking about the possibilities. The only sound that filled the inn with the drunks gone was the rain pitter-pattering outside.

It was probably near midnight by the time the Bartender interrupted his thoughts again. "If you're not going to finish that, you need to head to bed so I can close up for the night."

Bart looked up to the man, who seemed quite tall, and nodded slowly. As he grabbed at Barts leftovers, a rare occurrence for the orphan who normally ate every scrap of his meals, Bart reached out and took the mans wrist. Gently, of course. Not that he could really be anything else to someone that big. Barts worst shot would be like a light pat to the man. When he had the bartenders attention, the lad let go. "Who is Dalviss Crenn?"

The man tilts his head to the side curiously. He had heard the mercenaries laughing earlier, but had long since learned to ignore such rabble. It didn't do for a man to learn to much of other peoples buisness after all. "Dalviss... thats a name I've been hearing a lot recently. He's an... ex-adventurer of sorts. Runs an inn in... Dustpawn was it? I think so. Why you asking?"

Bart hadn't thought far enough ahead to think the man might be curious but his lie rolls quickly off of his tongue. "I have a message for him, but I've been hearing a lot of... crazy things. People are saying he's looking for help to investigate a space ship or something? Get a little worried about a job like that."

The bartender nods knowingly, actually respecting the pragmatic attitude of the younger man in front of him. "Well, Dalvuss... was good people but its been years since I've heard anything about him. At the very least, he ain't a liar, so if the rumors are true he really does believe something like that fell from the sky. I'd suggest- Kid, where you going?"

Bart had left a couple silver on the counter for the food and was now running up the steps, his mind racing far ahead of him. The Bartender grumbled, but took the rather nice tip as thanks and went about his business as the young lads light footsteps ceased upstairs. Bart quickly ran to his room, shutting the door and waiting a heartbeat or three before looking around. The shadows in the corner bent and twisted, and then Alar stepped out from them. It happened naturally, apparently. Though his body -seemed- to burn like miniature stars, what with all the bright points at each of his limbs, Bart had realized that Alar represented more then the light of the Astral sea. The darkness between the stars could steal across the Lion and make him difficult to spot. But Bart knew what to look for.

When the Lion fully stepped out from the shadows and into the candle light of Barts room, the young man through his arms around the creature. Alar bristled, as he always did, but after a moment he nuzzled the boy back. The creature had been with Bart for several months now and a large part of that was spent on the road alone. They were more then friends now. But he was still unused to the affection Bart showed him, despite his own nature of returning it almost instinctively. "I expected you back hours ago."

The lion spoke simply, as he always did. His voice was deep, but soft and quiet, aware that anyone could be listening. Bart nodded and whispered back, "I heard a rumor. Some guy... Dalviss Crenn... he says he saw a ship fall from the sky!"

The Lion took several moments to consider this news, tilting his head to the side curiously as he did. Those bright points of light burned as the creature leaned forward and took the ridiculously large hat Bart wore off of his head, setting it aside. It revealed the glowing mark the child hid beneath it. Since the day they had been attacked, Bart had not returned him to the stars, ever fearful of being alone. Instead he wore the hat to hide the mark, letting him travel about in broad daylight without fear while Alar followed him in the shadows. The young mans unkempt hair fell into his eyes, but Alar knew he saw sparks similar to his own flickering in them for a brief moment. Reflections, perhaps. Or perhaps not. "You are curious about this?"

Bart nods vigorously. "It could be a clue! Maybe more like you? You fell right through my roof, and you said you came from up there right? Maybe its someone looking for you or someone who needs your help!"

Alar once again took his time thinking it over. He knew Barts mind went much faster then his own and rather then let this bother him, he took the chance to teach the boy patience while he accepted his own limitations. Eventually he replied, to the chagrin of Bart, "It could be danger as well."

Bart grimaced, but he was not one to lie to Alar. He dips his head in acknowledgment of this and says to Alar, "I know. But... we have to go and look. None of the towns we've been too had anything on what you were. Somethings were similar, summonings from other planes, but nothing fit your origins. Maybe we could get answers there! Maybe we could find out more about whoever attacked us back... back home."

The young mans words were no longer as excited as they had before, so Alar leaned into the childs side to give him something to lean against. It was a familiar gesture, one that Bart took great comfort in. It was also not something a Lion would do, at least from what the books said. At times, especially in battle, Alar acted a lot like a lion. But at times he seemed almost like a pet, sharing similar habits with house cats or dogs even. Bart again wondered if his friend was really his friend or something imaginary he had accidentally made with his magic. He wondered and worried. "Why not go to the House of... Leroung? Brother-Guardian thought that this... Leroung might have answers."

Bart winced, and quickly shook his head. "If I go there, they might take you away. Veren wasn't willing to make a promise to protect you as he did me and I couldn't risk losing you." His arms tighten around the star lion's neck, despite the fact that he wasn't nearly big enough to wrap them all the way around. The creature weighed several hundred pounds, against all evidence that he was an ethereal and weightless creature. Ontop of that his translucent fur felt as real as any animal Bart had ever encountered, even the mane. The young man took comfort in the creatures presence. "I... can't... I can't..."

The boy shakes his head into the creatures pelt, hiding his tears, while the Lion waits patiently for his young ward to calm down. It took several long moments, but Bart managed to gather himself once more, and he quickly wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his arms. "I'm not willing to risk losing you. We could run into danger investigating this rumor, but you'll definitely be in danger if we go back to Cheliax. Veren might have been willing to protect me, but he didn't care about you, and he wouldn't hesitate to kill you or take you away if they told him you were a danger. Even if you weren't. I know I could send you back to wherever you come from and then call you again, but by all accounts, House Leroung sounds like the exact type of people who would know how to prevent you from escaping even with that."

Alar said nothing. The two had argued about leaving Veren behind since Bart had made the call. Bart continued to insist that they need to investigate without the authorities, for Alar's safety. Alar insisted that 'Brother-Guardian' as he called Veren could be trusted to protect Bart, even from himself, and that meant he was trustworthy in the Lions eyes. In the end, Alar went along with Barts wishes, letting the argument drop, but they both knew that if Bart really got hurt that the lion wouldn't leave him a choice in the matter. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Alar finally allowed himself to feel his own curiosity. "Perhaps... we will learn more about who and what I am. I hope we do."

Bart smiled, broadly, and nodded. "We'll leave first thing in the morning for Dustpawn."

"What about our task to deliver the letters?"

Bart looked over to his bag and thought about the letters within, then shook his head as he scooped up his hat and made his way over to the corner where he and Alar would sleep. "They can wait. They're nothing important. I know, I already read them."

It's not super important. It'd kinda suck to lose the extra Channel per day, and take that hit to social skills, but I'd get an extra skill point ever level, and a feat out of the deal, so I'm not absolutely tied to being an aasimar. It fits with his flavor a lot better than being human, though I can still fluff him as someone with celestial blood, just not enough to have him a full-blooded aasimar.

A gentle but insistent voice was calling Ayreth's name. She tried to ignore it so that she could continue sleeping. Eventually, she gave up and exited his bed. Despite the melodious tone of the voice, it was urgent in its calling. She floated out of the room and down the steps of the observatory. She turned north once she was outside to follow the voice to its source. She was unaware of how long or far she traveled. Eventually, she came to a moonlit glade. There, it didn't seem to be a voice as much as a song from the stars that was just for her. The moonlight reflected off the surface of a pond and filled her with joy. Se spun in circles, floating in the air, basking in her senses.

The morning sun woke her. She was indeed in a glade with a pond, but there was no song ringing in her ears, no soothing voice to reassure her. She was fully dressed and kneeling in the center of the clearing. How had she come to the glade? Why couldn't she remember anything but the dream? It was disconcerting, but she found no answers. She looked to the sky to get her bearings and turned toward home.

As she made her way through the trees toward the observatory where she and her parents lived, a feeling of doom and panic came over her. She began to run. Odd shadows began to flicker at the edge of her vision. The faster she ran, the more shadows seem to dart in and out of her periphery. She heard someone or something laughing at her mockingly in the distance. She burst through the treeline and launched herself through the observatory's doorway. Her feet stuck to the floor as she entered but she couldn't focus on it because in the center of the room were her parents' lifeless bodies.

Ayreth awoke in a sweat. She had the dream again. Or was it a memory? As time passed, it became more difficult for her to distinguish the difference. It had been a long time . She had awoken that night kneeling in the pool of her parents' blood. Her mother had fled from the turmoil with the demons in more civilized lands. She had told Ayreth stories about them, but it had been so far removed from them. She had thought they were just stories to give her a thrill before bedtime. That was until her mother and father had been sacrificed in some grotesque ritual. Since then, she had traveled, usually working as a fortune-teller in one of the traveling carnivals, but determinedly seeking answers as to how or why she had been spared.

Later that day, she was reflecting on why she had the dream when it had been so long since the last time. Into her tent entered Shomu the dog-boy. He handed her a letter without saying anything. "I don't think that's for me. Nobody knows to find me here." He just pointed at it in response. Sure enough, it was addressed to her, and it was from someone she didn't know named Dalviss Crenn.

Ayreth thinks that it was Desna's voice that called to her that night but I'm thinking it was her real mother that led her out of danger. She doesn't know those weren't her real parents. Some of the details are supposed to indicate things like the haunted curse and such. Please let me know what you think.

Ayreth
Female Changeling Oracle 5
NG Medium humanoid (changeling)
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +10
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Defense
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AC 12, touch 10, flat-footed 12 (+1 armor, +1 natural)
hp 35 (5d8+5)
Fort +2, Ref +1, Will +6
Defensive Abilities revelations (awesome display, coat of many stars)
Weakness oracle's curses (haunted)
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee 2 claws +3 (1d4) and
dagger +3 (1d4/19-20) and
quarterstaff +3 (1d6)
Oracle Spells Known (CL 5th; concentration +10):
2nd (5/day)— cure moderate wounds , hypnotic pattern (DC 17), levitate, minor image (DC 17)
1st (8/day)— color spray (DC 16), command (DC 16), cure light wounds , liberating command UC, shield of
faith
0 (at will)— create water , detect magic , ghost sound (DC 15), guidance, mage hand , mending, purify
food and drink (DC 15)
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 10, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 20
Base Atk +3; CMB +3; CMD 13
Traits reactionary
Skills Bluff +6, Diplomacy +13, Heal +6, Perception +10, Profession (fortune-teller) +10, Sense Motive
+10, Spellcraft +10, Survival +10
Languages Common, Draconic, Elven, Giant
SQ mist child, mysteries (mystery [heavens])
Other Gear silken ceremonial armor, dagger, quarterstaff, oracle's kit, 109 gp
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Special Abilities
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Awesome Display -5 (Su) Your Illusion (pattern) spells treat observers as 5 HD lower than their actual
HD.
Coat of Many Stars +4 (5 hours/day) (Ex) +4 AC.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Haunted Retrieving stored gear is a Standard action or worse, dropped items land 10' away.
Mist Child Increase Concealment miss chance by 5%.

Interesting story, I like the mysterious (to her) past, and thanks for including the invitation from Dalviss.

Thank you, and happy to do it. I like the plot hook of the letter and I figured it gave a lot of latitude for why it came to her. Oh, I edited the post with some developing crunch if you have any thoughts or insight for that.

Stats look good and I like the Mist Child alternate racial trait to replace Hulking Changeling. It seems to go better with the Heavens Oracle.

I enjoyed the story -- the voice that drew Ayreth from danger -- was it a ghost or her hag mother's voice reaching out to her? Or when you choose an alternate racial trait as you have, does that mean the hag mother's hypnotic call doesn't come into play? I'm trying to see the inclusion of the Changeling aspect in your story as well.

Aye, the idea is that it was her mother. In fact, it could have been the mother that killed them. Hags aren't nice people after all.

Very true ... The voice just seemed rather nice and hags aren't -- so I was a little confounded by that aspect. But it is interesting ... The hag mother comes for the child she abandoned and kills the adoptive parents ... but why didn't she approach her child afterward ... Maybe something stopped her or got in the way...Leaves me wanting to hear more and fill in the dots.

I'm also very curious about the entity that is haunting Ayreth (via the Haunted Curse). Do you want us to come up with the "spirit" or do you want to construct a story around it?

I concur... intriguing. I'd like to hear more.