In Combat: Arven excels as both an interceptor to keep things away from the squishies, and as a flanking partner. He will be mechanically gears towards teamwork and thus would not mind coordinating teamwork feats with other plays when applicable. Is primary focus will be control and crush. His weapon of choice and build facilitate a good scaling for his CMB on disarm and trip but he will primarily be focusing on trip so as to provide any flanking partner with multiple aoo's against foes while also dealing out healthy two handed damage. Depending on the relathionships he developes and the needs of the group I will be adapting this over the course of his growth. He will always be the first to put himself in harms path to protect others, it is part of his personal code.
Out of Combat: Arven is a master of weapons and armor. He will be taking these crafting skills to their peak (including Master Craftsman and Craft Magic Arms and Armor) this should free up the casters in the group from worrying about that feat freeing up their builds somewhat. His mix of skills will be aimed towards his soldier aspect, but there is some freedom to grow based on the needs of the party. His survival skill will only be raised if the party lacks someone else more suitable to it. Intimidation is something he finds abhorrent but in situations where it would prevent bloodshed he would quickly step up to aid someone attempting it (though never initiate it, and he won't be investing any points in it)
I'm in CST but I check the site often enough that I might as well not be considered to sleep :P
Jutmon supports the ranged people when that is needed. When it goes to melee he steps up and holds the line. He is capable as a scout so the party scout won't have to go it alone. Plus he is a decent tracker.
The game design wants everyone to specialize, but it's never really wise to put one's eggs all in one basket. That is where Jutmon steps in.
Personality is always a description I have trouble with. I'll put something up tonight.
Nathan Aver plans to do healing, support, summoning, with a health dose of introducing undead to the joys of positive energy. In combat, he doesn't carry weapons so he isn't looking to get frisky. Out of combat he plans on focusing on Diplomacy, Perception, and Sense Motive with a healthy smattering of random Knowledge skills.
Never put much thought into the mechanical role James Denphire would play. jack of all trades except magic probably. skills and combat focus. I am at grenich mean time by the way.
I'm new here on this site and have zero concept how to enter a character. I have played many Pathfinder games on other sites and have all ebooks for play. Can you help me enter a character for your game so I may play?
Welcome to my first post ever on this site.
Shadowbird
Hi Shadowbird!
First, do you have a character concept that you would like to play? Carrion Crown as an AP was written as a nod to a lot of the classic Hammer Horror films of last century so expect not only a lot of different Horror themed monsters, but also many of the other tropes found in those movies.
I.E. Suspicious villagers, superstitious villagers, dark secrets & such-like.
Why yes, I am a fan of all those things, why do you ask?..
If you have a character concept that you feel would work well with that idea, your next step is to 'stat them out'. Go into the 'my account' settings in this website & look for the 'add alias' button. It will be at the bottom of the Messageboard Aliases window, which is directly below your messageboard settings window, which is on the left side of your 'My Account' page. Once you have found & used it it will walk you through making a new alias, much like your basic Account Avatar. you will get up to 10 posts to change your name if it turns out you don't like the one you chose.
Welcome to the wonderful world of play-by-post, Shadowbird. Ysmerelda has pretty much told everything I could think of, so I'm just going to wish you a good time. ^^
...about ragechemists...
Thanks for the heads up Cydrius. I am going to be very stingy in my use of the mutagen so it might not come up that often anyway. If the character goes comatose after each fight, it would only instill in him more why he should not release the beast.
I appreciate you looking out for me, it's very kind of you. Nice to know some of the quirks related to the character that I didn't think of.
Expanding on what Ysmerelda said:
Typically, your application will consist of two to four things - Your stat block (or 'crunch') your background, and optionally your appearance and personality.
Crunch - This is your character sheet, in a text-block format. Look at some of the completed applications to get an idea of what you need to put in it (hint: just about everything). Some DMs I've had/attempted to join on other sites have said this part is not needed until after you have been selected, just FYI.
Background - This is where you sell you and your character. As you can probably see, there's not near enough space for all of us to play at once. This is normal, since there tends to be many more players than GMs in nearly every format I can think of. Your background is your proving ground for your ability to tell a story, as well as the quality of your character concept.
Appearance/Personality - These can be worked into your background in some way, or created separately. Either works.
It's worth noting that, while the background can be in any perceptive you want, it's generally expected that your in-game posts will be in 'Third-Person Limited' and will not commit assumptions of success. For example:
////////
Go.
Raldora pulsed the thought to Dux as the goblin looked away. Her eidolon, anticipating the command, had already been tensed to spring and did so immediately. Its shadowy form stretched slightly as it quickly traveled the distance between the bush and the presumably unaware goblin. The goblin would not be unaware for long, however, as Dux landed behind behind it and attempted to rip it to pieces with tooth and claw.
////////
Notice that I used presumably unaware and attempted to rip. For all I know, the goblin may have known I was hiding in the bushes and was about to call for help, or I might roll 2's on my attack rolls and Dux will miss completely. While some assumptions are ok, such as that the goblin will know something is up when it's either dodging or being hit by a shadow beast, in general you can't assume anything not under your direct control will act as you expect, nor can you assume you will roll high enough to confirm whatever action you are taking.
Windom is the traditional Blue Collar Hero. He strived for a normal life but keeps getting sucked into this horrible darkside of the world. He is book learned and will be able to assist by identifying the evilness that is encountered and know how to fight the monsters of the dark correctly. For combat he would be a switch hitter, use combat tactics to aid the party, do some buffs, and minor in healing. Not to make weak analogies but think Van Helsing (Bram Stoker's), Hellboy, and Preacher(best comic ever) mixed into this character; a troubled pissed off smart do gooder that is good at snuffing out evil.
I am not too familiar with Carrion Crown, but I am very familiar with Ravenloft. From what I have seen so far it seems to be modeled after it, and combat will not be the focus (of course this is just my assumption). So where Windom will shine is the experience of already failing the fear, horror, madness rolls; he has been in the insane asylum for over a year being terrorized by his vampire wife through the barred window. As not too much more will phase him sanity wise, so he can be a great asset with doctoring the other broken minds of the party.
*clears throat*
There use to be a small town not too far from Kavapesta, on the lake, it would be lucky be considered a ruin now, but luck has not shined there for some time. I am twenty three winters now born of that town with the forgotten name. I can remember living on the lake, swimming, fishing in the cove ‘lucky fishing hole’, waving to my pa on his fishing boat as he cast nets, mother setting a wild berry pie to cool on the windowsill. There is a small hallow not too far from the town, older folks use to warn about fey, and first world nonsense, normal deep country legends, of kids going missing, or waking up not aged fifty years later, nonsense stuff. The old legends never did any good to keep the town kids out of that hallow; the grass was unusually green, the flowers blossomed more vibrant and gigantic, bees were the only inhabitant anyone ever seen, busy bees stocking giant hives with honey. It was nice.
*sips ale, prepares to tell a difficult tale*
Lets see, had to of been eight winters old when it happened. Autumn was on its last leg about to leave before the winter. That is when he arrived. Never met the man myself I was too young, all I remember is his black robe and the large chest of gold he came to town with. He paid to have a cottage made hastily before winter showed his true face, the men could not refuse the piles of coin placed in front of them and they started work on this massive cabin. The trees had already lost their leaves, and stiffened up for the winter, felling trees became a difficult task. It became colder and colder as the days past by and the sun set earlier and earlier. The men should have been preparing for an Ustalav winter, not building a cottage too late in the season. I remember the cottage, taller than those around it, two chimneys with no wood to burn, empty pantries, a wonderful un-stocked home, with strange green light at night from the windows; everyone thought the man had fancy lanterns or green glassed oil lamps. The entire town went without that winter, the fruit cellars were emptied early, the grains used fast; all the food that could have been stored but was not because of that cabin. The first snow fall happened early that year, unnaturally early.
*sips ale*
It was cold, but not the coldest we ever had which living on the lake made it worst. Funny right, needing it to be too cold to be able to survive. That lake never froze right all winter; my pa went out to ice fish and never returned. We started to get hungry, having stripped and boiled all the bark from the trees around us, and boiled what leather we could find, trying to wait through the winter. The townsfolk also having no food or place to turn went to this robed man, whom they had found out he was a wizard. Normally superstitious people, they would of made the elder sign of protection and walk away, however they were guided by their empty stomachs. He was very helpful; handing out smoked pork, and sausage links. The wizard’s handouts were not enough to satisfy anyone’s hunger, weirdly it made it worst, so the men tried to hunt being the lake could not be fished. People became friendly with the wizard and less scared of him through his charity. Nobody noticed at that time but people started to disappear, by late-winter two dozen strong men and a handful of others had become missing. With the disappearances noises started in the woods, all night, the chopping of wood, and the sound of a falling tree. In the short daylight hours men went to try and find the felled trees; always they would find the same scene. Lots of foot prints, bare feet all through the snow, the stumps of the cut trees, and the chipped wood left from the cutting. No one knew what to make of it, and people were becoming afraid. They sought help of the wizard and he agreed to help, he would patrol the woods at night to keep the town safe. That is when it became very bad.
*sip*
People kept taking the wizard’s handouts, getting hungrier, many began to visibly shake; and the wizard roamed the forest at night never finding the source of the sound, saying ‘it was fey mischief’. Daily people went missing, families started to move in with each other for protection, my small town toward the end was no more than a hundred heads.
The men still went out each morning to hunt and find the source of the noise. Many of the younger boys would go out in this hunting search parties, myself included, looking for small animals or something to scavenge. I was in a hunting party that by chance stumbled onto a freshly made cabin in the woods. The cabin had no windows and a strong locked door. Fate and misfortune complement each other very well and usually dance hand in hand. That day a blizzard hit, snow I have never had the chance to experience again, the purest white. We were caught still out in the forest at the cabin just discovered. The men forced the lock and opened the door. It was a gruesome butchery full of the bodies of the missing from my town. There with a smokehouse in a back room full of meat from the bodies; the same meat the town had been eating all winter. Also the source of the mystery chopping at night, a pile of axes lay in the corner next to a pile of fresh cut timbers. Many of the men looked panicked and vomited. There was another room to the cabin, barred from our side; noise could be heard behind it. We cautiously opened the door to see that some of the men that had gone missing were behind it. At first it was a happy sight familiar faces we thought to be dead, but as the men shambled into the butchery room we knew right away that something was very wrong. Many were missing large pieces of flesh; the missing flesh did not hinder the advance into the room. One of the men quickly shut and re-barred the door after two had entered. The shambling man had grabbed onto one of the men, that came to this cabin with me, bringing him to the ground, his teeth torn the throat from the prone man. The other assisted with the gruesome sight, together the two lost men began to eat the still warm corpse on the floor, not paying attention to the rest of us in the room. Pounding from the barred door, the rest of the lost men had become frenzied slamming it trying to get in. Someone found a cleaver and killed the two lost men that were eating our comrade, they made no attempt of defense, and they just ate absent-mindedly as the cleaver chopped pieces from their own bodies. We placed large tables in front of the barred door for support, it was successful and would hold, but the slamming would not stop.
*big gulp of ale*
Now we were stranded in that mystery cabin, cannibals pounding on a barred door, and a horrible blizzard outside; we were stranded until the weather let up. We tried to rest and made sure that barricade door would hold against the slamming, but no rest could come. During the night the man that was feasted on woke, and began to attack, biting and slamming us, we were unprepared. Many had taken grievous wounds before he too could be slain. Then the sickness started. The men that were bitten began with fevers, burning up, sweating, stomach pains, it eventually ended in death a days later. But before the sickness could take them they they lived with us in that forsaken cabin. After two days in the unlit dark cabin, one of the men opened the smokehouse and began to eat some jerky in the dark. Slowly others to walked into the smokehouse head hanging low, myself included. Finding places away from each other we ate the smokehouse jerky to the music of pounding cannibals on the door in the dark. Then the sickness had finally taken the bitten ones. There were two alive with me, still waiting for the storm to finish, still no escape. The men that died of fever then woke, the two surviving men and I ran for the door; we would have better chances in a blizzard than in that cabin. We ran into the whiteness, the world was lost under winter waste. The pursuers could not be seen as we struggled in the neck high snow. One man fell behind and was heard screaming as he was consumed. The last surviving man and I pushed forward and made it back to town, he carrying me on his back for much of the trip. We came to the house my mother and I had just relocated to with some other families. We could hardly talk from the cold and took places by the fire to tell the others what was following. All I did was cry as my mother held me, "they are coming to eat us", that is all I remember saying over and over again. Not long after they came, the windows crashed in, there was lots of screaming, men entered the cabin and began to eat everybody. I hid in the empty fruit cellar, there was nothing else I could do. When they finished they left our cabin and walked to the next cabin full of people, their screams could be heard dampened by the blizzard. I gathered a blanket and was going to run, then like I said my mother tried to kill me, she raised, massive amounts of flesh missing from her face and chest. With out stretched arms she came for me, teeth exposed by a tightened snarl. I dodged but she fell and grabbed my ankle, she was pulling me in to eat me. There was a struggle and I wiggled free. I ran into the storm, hearing the screams from other houses in the town now, I made for the hallow. The lights in that new cabin that dammed the town never stopped glowing, horrible unnatural greenish light that was the only thing that could be seen through the falling curtain of snow; eerie green light. In the hallow there was less snow, making it easier to wait the storm out. When the blizzard finally past the world was at peace, white, quiet and perfect. I found a bee hive and ate the frozen honey, carrying the shell with me for future meals for my journey to Kavapesta. I had been there before and it was the only real option, I had to survive the winter.
*finishes ale* if you keep buying I keep talking *sips from a new pint*
When I would get to Kavapesta I would make my way to the temple of Pharasma, not really knowing what else to do and not having a plan. I walked through the night, and come morning I collapsed on the road to Kavapesta. I awoke in the church I was en route to, someone had picked up my dying body and delivered me to the temple. I told my story to the abbot that was healing my wounds and feeding me broth. Later that day all the priests and clergy left for the town I had come from, they returned several days later. The town was abandoned, no survivors, plenty of evidence to support the tale that I told when I woke. The church has heard rumors of the cannibal necromancer and was upset he eluded their attempt to hunt him down. They offered me a place, I studied for the priesthood as this was to be my new life. I ran chores, was very obedient, prayed non-stop; I was going to be cleric hell bent on hunting every undead that I could find. I read every book, rumor, story, poem, and letter; anything that could be learnt about my new enemy.
*sips, smiles*
Then I fell in love, got married, changed my path in life, gave up on my pursuit of undead. What you want the romance too, ok, thought you just wanted the guts and glory stuff.
*clears throat*
I was Seventeen winters old; her name was Candis Cane, her family owned a bakery not far from the temple, had a little rolling pin on the sign out front. I remember the first time meeting her, going there with an order for the temple, not being able to find the words to speak right, messing up the order and buying way too much for the temple. She was beautiful, sweet, a year younger than myself, and love at first sight. It took months of courting her to get her to like me, and much convincing to her father to let her be mine. ‘Love is a ladder from heaven’; my heart soared through the heavens on our wedding day, I will never be that happy again. I had left the church, and began working for her family bakery; taking another mouth to feed into the family business was tough. I did odd jobs, and found ways to make money; I am clever at that. One of my bright ideas was to cut out the middle man and buy our flour straight from the miller verses the supplier that charged too much. It saved us so much money we bought our own horse and cart, opened a second shop, and bought a house of our own. The journey to get the flour was a long and boring one; Candi would come with me on the trip. She was pregnant, maybe 6 months, she insisted on going to keep me company. On the way back our cart broke an axle on the road, it would not drive further with the large sacks of flour on it. It took me all day to repair it well enough to drive, and then darkness came.
*Very big gulp of ale*
Shadows moved in the forest as we made for the city, our lantern was lit to make the path. The horse became spooked and unmanageable, something was hunting us. There was a giggling, childlike, in the darkness; the young women that came out from the woods moved with such grace and poise it was otherworldly. It was hypnotizing, her eyes controlled me, I stood there helpless, unmoving, not thinking, as she moved into the light her pale skin looked like a porcelain doll. Her eyes were blood red and she moved to Candi with un-human speed, the lantern sputted and the flame extinguished, the moon was of no help and we were left in darkness with death. The sound still haunts me in the dark to this day; Candi gasped, there was a wet sucking sound, a thud as she was dropped to the ground, and a giggle as the vampire went back into the woods. Feeling around for my pregnant wife on the dirt road I found her, she was cold and wet from her own blood, tiny sobs of those that were to die came from her. In the dark I found her lips and pulling her close I tasted her bloody kiss. I placed her body on the cart of flour I do not remember the walk home.
*gulp*
I came to a few days later back in an asylum amongst madmen and criminals locked in a caged room. Not sure what had happened I too questioned my own sanity. They had told me my wife had died, but yet she visited me nightly. I would get restrained daily for screaming out the window into the darkness, Candi was there I was yelling to her, 'Am I good enough for you?'. As night time would approach the orderlies would put me in a straight jacket to better manage my midnight outbursts, no one believed me that Candi called on me every night. 'Let me love you to death', she said that in the darkness, those words still haunt me. She had showed me my son, born to her not long after my commitment at the asylum; pale scrawny sickly looking thing she would bring with her to torment me, shrill babe cries in the night. A year pasted and this same routine happened every night without fail. Only when she left me a present did anyone the doctors no longer question my sanity. It was the holy tome of Pharasma nailed shut left in a large bowl of blood on the floor of my room; knowing I could not of done this in my straight jacket or even have access to the holy tome, or finding any wounds to explain the blood on me or insane cell mates they called in a specialist. This is where Professor Lorrimor entered my life. He knew I was not a mad man but a victim that continued to find trouble. He took me as his own patient, helping my mind heal, giving me tricks to improve my will. The nightly haunt ended with him, he warded my room and finally sleep without nightmare had come, I had not slept right during the assault on my mind that Candi seized for an entire year. When I was stable enough he told me the news; Candis has risen from the grave, slave to the women that killed her. Again my lust to extinguish undead burned, revenge for the life that had been taken from me twice, there would be no more excuses or sidetracking. The professor brought me to a colleague, a woman skilled in the art of hunting undead. Nina R. Saitted, the only middle aged women I know with a Morningstar. She taught me much about the foes I seek, the best ways to fight and identify them, and tricks to avoid them. She also trained me to fight, this woman had a heavy swing, and left bruises. ‘The enemy hits harder’ or ‘do you think a wraith cares about honor’, she made her point one way or another. I started to rejoin the church of Pharasma, something I had grown away from after Candi. They took me right back, hearing word of my misfortune with a vampire and current training with Nina.
*finishes ale*
Not much more after that, Nina trained me until she thought I was ready. The church gave me aid and a blessing on my way out the door to track down unlife to extinguish. Searching for my wife to slay her to grant resting peace. And now I am here light headed from the ale.
Quick update: I'm going to go with a build that plays off of crits. Rather than a Greataxe, I'm going to go with a Falchion as Batros' main weapon, and eventually pick up Improved Critical for a 15-20 crit range. (Meaning a slightly lesser regular damage output, but semi-frequent criticals that will be absolutely explosive.)
Mechanically Tyrnvald will be a tank/damage dealer with fey foundling and the favored bonus, tiefling paladin is super survivable.
Tyrnvald will never oppose a party member directly with his opinions. He would be more of a guiding father figure. If he felt something was not in line with his code he may advice against it but never be the my way or the highway type. He values the views and experiences of others. Not your typical close minded sort. His code more reflects his inner character and the ideal he strives to be. Influencing those around him to be better by his actions as opposed to just preaching. He will lay his life down to save the innocent if thats what it comes too. Though he will not rush foolishly or blindly toward evil like some martyr.
Very important since it makes my job of sorting so much easier, I'd like you to give me a quick rundown of your mechnical uses. Not necessarily a deep strategy paragraph, but a sentence or two just detailing what your character does; if they're leaning toward support magic, going to be focusing on certain skills or sub-roles beyond the typical Martial/Arcane/Divine/Skill split.
No problem! Crunch-wise, I always like to differentiate between combat role and out-of-combat role. In Lilien's case:
In short, she is very focused on supporting, and lets everyone in the party have fun doing their thing (this way, you don't have to worry about "ok, it's my turn, I cast a save-or-die on the bad guy! I don't hit, zero usefulness, I do, fun's over for everyone!"... Ok ok, I'm being a bit biased and unfair here, sorry about that ;).
Also, the particular build I'm thinking about it's actually kind of light in the feat department, meaning after the first few levels, I could "steer" it a little one way or the other, to better suit the party needs, like take specific item creation feats (if they are allowed), or make my summons stronger if the party needs more frontline fighters, etc...
Out of Combat: of course, being a wizard means she could help the party with all manners of utility spells. Also, being kind of a bookworm, she will sport a full array of maxed out knowledge skills, ready to be of service.
Well, this covers the mechanical aspects. As for social interactions, Lilien is young, curious and full of energy; also a bit naive and inexperienced, and at times slightly oblivious of other races' manners and customs. Even with her social awkwardness, she will definitely try to establish a good relationship with the other characters right form the start :).
As always, if you'd like me to change something I'm always open to suggestions and critiques. Oh, and sry for the wall of text!
Very important since it makes my job of sorting so much easier, I'd like you to give me a quick rundown of your mechanical uses. Not necessarily a deep strategy paragraph, but a sentence or two just detailing what your character does; if they're leaning toward support magic, going to be focusing on certain skills or sub-roles beyond the typical Martial/Arcane/Divine/Skill split.
Well, though not as durable as I would like, Ysmerelda is as much a frontline melee as any Paladin, though as a Paladin of Shelyn she will be focusing on social interactions as much as possible, more Diplomacy than Bluff or Intimidation of course.
I have successfully played her as a 'team healer' in the past, so I can fulfill that role as well, though it frequently does require a wand.
It seems like with an AP based around the undead. The more divinely blessed characters we can muster, the better. #GoTeamCleric#Paladinsalsowelcome
Now, now, don't put all your eggs in the same basket.
(And don't put all your eggs in the basket where I have no eggs. I don't want my eggs going unused.)
Sorry you were not invited Cydrius...
#HealingForTheWin!
Team Cleric is sorely lacking an intelligent beatstick to lead them :P
But does the intelligent beatstick have a prestige class that allows him to add his intelligence bonus to attack, damage rolls, armor class, or saving throws? ;-)
Arven, it saddens me that we're competing for what is likely the same spot, because your character and mine would have had some very interesting interactions, given our respective backgrounds.
You would have been a worthy rival.
Oh, so now Intelligence leads, not Charisma? I'm kinda lost...
^_^
Charisma leads. Intelligence guides. Wisdom counsels.
A party of all divine casters? Could give us opportunities to specialize and try out some of the lesser-used class options:)
Of course that means Izorshi would need to come up with an explanation for why she is staying out of range of anyone else in the party with healing abilities (I'm planning on her taking Versatile Channeler at 3rd level to heal herself and others)...she already sort of have more of a knowledge/scholar theme going, and I'm probably going to edit it tomorrow to emphasize that.
Hmm, Perhaps Izorshi should have the Scroll Scholar archetype.
I see bloodshed in that future Cydrius unless we reconcile our very polar differences heh
It would probably end up resolved with some kind of duel, yes. 'tis the way of us proud warrior races.
Okay. So much for "I should have the fluff up tomorrow"! Blasted real life. *grumbles*
Well, here's Liera's crunch again, now with fluffy goodness.
Liera
Female Tiefling Witch 1
N Medium Outsider (native)
Init +7; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 11 (+1 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 7 (1d6+1)
Fort +1, Ref +3, Will +3; +2 trait bonus vs. curses, +2 trait bonus vs. fear effects
Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee Dagger +0 (1d4/19-20/x2)
Ranged Sling +3 (1d4/x2)
Special Attacks hexes (cackle, misfortune [dc 14])
Spell-Like Abilities
1/day—darkness
Witch Spells Prepared (CL 1):
1 (2/day) Cure Light Wounds, Ear-Piercing Scream (DC 15)
0 (at will) Stabilize, Detect Magic, Read Magic
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 16, Con 13, Int 18, Wis 12, Cha 8
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 13
Feats Extra Hex
Traits Born Damned, Making Good on Promises
Skills Bluff +1, Heal +5, Knowledge (arcana) +8, Knowledge (history) +8, Knowledge (planes) +8,
Perception +4, Sense Motive +3, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +5, Use Magic Device +3; Racial Modifiers +2
Bluff, +2 Stealth
Languages Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Goblin, Infernal
SQ +4 to initiative checks, empathic link with familiar, patron spells (shadow), prehensile tail, share spells
with familiar
Other Gear Silken ceremonial armor, Dagger, Sling, Sling bullets (20), Backpack (33 @ 19.5 lbs), Bedroll,
Belt pouch (1 @ 0.7 lbs), Candle (10), Chalk (10), Familiar satchel, Flint and steel, Ink, black, Inkpen,
Mess kit, Pot, Soap, Spell component pouch, Trail rations (5), Waterskin, 26 GP, 9 SP
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Special Abilities
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+4 to Initiative checks You gain the Alertness feat while your familiar is within arm's reach.
Born Damned The inherent sacrilege that taints your soul sometimes crowds out lesser banes. You gain
a +2 trait bonus on saving throws against curses and magical effects that produce curses.
Cackle (Su) As a move action, extend the duration of other hexes by 1 rd.
Damage Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Cold attacks.
Damage Resistance, Electricity (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Electricity
attacks.
Damage Resistance, Fire (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Fire attacks.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Empathic Link with Familiar (Su) You have an empathic link with your Arcane Familiar.
Making Good on Promises At some point in the past, Professor Lorrimor did you a favor under the
condition that he would someday call on you to repay it. After he came to your aid, however, you never
saw nor heard from him again, leaving you with a sense of unending anticipation that each day might
be the day you were asked to return the favor. You gain a +2 trait bonus on saves against fear effects.
Misfortune (1 rd) (DC 14) (Su) Foe in 30 ft must take the lower of 2d20 for rolls (Will neg).
Prehensile Tail Your tail can retrieve small objects on your person as a swift action.
Share Spells with Familiar Can cast spells with a target of "You" on the familiar with a range of touch.
Speckle
Male Rabbit
N Tiny Magical Beast ((animal))
Init +3; Senses low-light vision; Perception +5
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Defense
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AC 16, touch 15, flat-footed 13 (+3 Dex, +2 size, +1 natural)
hp 3 (1d8-1)
Fort +1, Ref +5, Will +3
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Offense
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Speed 50 ft.
Melee Bite (Rabbit) -2 (1d3-4/x2)
Space 2.5 ft.; Reach 0 ft.
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Statistics
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Str 3, Dex 16, Con 9, Int 6, Wis 12, Cha 5
Base Atk +0; CMB +1; CMD 7 (11 vs. Trip)
Feats Run
Skills Acrobatics +3 (+11 jump, +7 to jump with a running start), Fly +7, Heal +2, Perception +5,
Spellcraft -1, Stealth +15, Use Magic Device -2
Languages
SQ improved evasion
Other Gear You have no money!
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Special Abilities
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Improved Evasion (Ex) No damage on successful reflex save; half on failed save.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Run Run 5x your speed in light/medium armor or 4x speed in heavy armor and keep Dex when running.
History
Fiendish blood, in rare cases, can lie dormant. Several generations can pass before it makes itself evident. Such was the case with Liera.
Born in Ustalav to settled Varisian parents, something was odd about Liera from a young age. She had the thick black hair of her parents, and warm eyes, but her skin was deathly pale. This caused no small amount of tension between her parents, with her father accusing her mother of being unfaithful, and eventually, he left, walking out on his wife and new daughter and simply never returning.
Liera’s mother, left to raise her on her own, struggled in the following years. Thankfully, Liera was an easy child to raise. She was small and slight, quiet, and never caused trouble. Not intentionally, anyway. She didn’t even mind when the last candle burned out, for she could find her way around just fine. “Don’t worry, mama,” she’d always say; ”I’ll look after you.”
As Liera grew, however, her mother began to notice odd things. The girl went from not being afraid of the dark to actively searching it out. She had no friends. Animals were frightened of her, as if they sensed something nobody else could.
When Liera reached puberty, it became all too apparent. Small bumps formed on her forehead. Her spine began to lengthen. Her legs began to change, growing wrong, lengthening in the wrong places, her toes slowly fusing. While these changes caused the girl great agony, they caused more pain to her mother, for the truth was apparent – her daughter was a tiefling.
Yet out of what love remained for the beast, Liera’s mother couldn’t bring herself to abandon the girl while she was still crippled by her changing legs. She kept her locked in the house for the next two years, until the legs had settled into place, and Liera was able to walk again, albeit shakily. Then – the girl was fourteen at the time – her mother took her out into the woods, deeper than the girl had ever gone, then slipped off, running back home. She packed up the house and left town without another word, joining up with a Varisian caravan as soon as she could. She hasn’t been seen in Ustalav since.
Liera, meanwhile, was lost and terrified. Her mother had slipped from her sight, and didn’t respond to her calls. She began wandering, lost and aimless, trying to find the edge of the forest. But it was too thick, and everything looked the same. She had no way of knowing where she was going. She had no food, and no water. She found a wild rabbit, its white pelt hard to miss in the gloom. She fell on it in desperation, and would have eaten it raw, when she realized something strange – it wasn’t running from her.
Faced with the first animal in her life that was seemingly unafraid of her, she couldn’t bring herself to follow through with her plan. Picking up the creature, now more lost and hungry than before, she felt a strange force flow through her head, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
She came to three days later, in a house she later learned was owned by a certain Professor Lorrimor. A maid informed her that the professor in question had found her on his way home from his last expedition, and that she would be fine to leave whenever she wished. That the professor expected no payment in return for saving her life – and that of the strange rabbit he’d found by her side, that had refused to leave her – spare that he would one day call on her for a favour. When Liera explained that she didn’t know where she’d be, she was told that the professor would find her anyway.
Liera stole out in the night, slipping away in the shadows, clutching the rabbit in one arm. She eventually found her way back home, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. Instead, she moved on, travelling from city to city, county to county. She’d stay in one place until the locals grew suspicious, then leave, settle somewhere else, and repeat the cycle. Along the way, she practiced the strange new power that had awakened in her the moment she touched the rabbit – the arcane power that she suspected was caused by her fiendish blood, a foul taint that she could use for good... or for evil.
Five years later, Liera has received a letter – a summons, to the late professor’s house. The letter explained she was to be there for his funeral, as she was mentioned in his will. She and the same rabbit – Speckle – immediately set out, and nervousness has gripped her ever since. What awful task could the professor – who she’d never actually met – have left her? And why was she going?
Appearance
Liera is a small human woman. Her human blood just happens to be mixed with that of a fiend. She doesn’t know what kind – it could be a demon, a devil, or even a rakshasa for all she knows. Her features are certainly ambiguous enough to be anything, and her parents aren’t exactly around to tell her.
She is short and slender – standing just shy of five and a half feet, and though not without feminine curves, she knows comparing her own figure to that of her employer, Ameiko, will only upset her. Her hair is straight and black, and her skin is smooth and pale – signs of her Chelaxian parentage. However, she isn’t easy to mistake for completely human.
Horns grow from her hairline, curving back on themselves like those of a ram, sitting at the sides of her head. Her eyes are slanted and angular, arcing up sharply at the outer corners, and without whites – only a dull golden colour with a slitted pupil, almost catlike. Her nostrils are prominently flared, and her mouth seems a little too wide, her canine teeth fanglike. Her ears, like her eyes, rise to sharp points at the corners.
Between her neck and her waist, she seems mostly human, though her hands are vaguely clawlike – long, bony, sharp fingernails. Not too unusual, though slightly unsettling. What is unsettling, though, is her extraordinarily long and flexible tail – slender and whiplike, darkening to black at the tip – and her unguligrade legs, ending in delicate, deerlike hooves that look as though they shouldn’t support her weight.
Of course, a decade of fiendish features has taught her a few tricks to conceal them. She keeps her eyes downcast most of the time, avoiding eye contact when she can. Letting her hair hang in her face helps somewhat, and she often lets it cover her ears as well. It takes a little more effort to conceal her horns, but since they sit relatively close to the skull, she can usually wrap her hair around them, passing it off as simply an unusual style. She is prone to fiddling with her hair, giving the impression of coy flirting when all she really wants is to make sure nobody sees her ears and horns.
Her hands aren’t much of an issue – though somewhat unsettling, they still look human, and painting her “claws” gives the impression that she has filed her fingernails to that shape. For her legs and tail, she tries to disguise them with the simplest, most mundane method of all – clothing.
She wears long skirts, all the time. Her tail is long enough that she can wrap it around herself under her skirt to keep it hidden, but still use it to manipulate objects within arm’s reach and preserve her modesty. For her hooves, she has made herself odd "shoes" that, with her long skirt, look like she is simply wearing boots with a thick sole. However, this deception is uncomfortable, and she prefers to remain barefoot wherever possible, and she walks slowly to minimize her awkward gait.
Her clothes are usually loose and simple – a loose blouse, cinched with a bustier, and a long skirt, usually in several heavy layers. If she can wear a long woollen coat in the weather and not look out of place, even better. A wide-brimmed hat, well, that’s better still. Her desire to hide her features as much as possible leads her to almost be conspicuous in her pained efforts to hide.
Personality
Liera’s most distinguishing personality feature is her shyness. Her years of trying to hide her features have developed into an almost crippling meekness – she avoids eye contact, she doesn’t speak much (and when she does, it’s quietly, without opening her mouth wide), she keeps her arms folded in, and tries not to draw much attention to herself. After all, she’s learned that attention she receives is usually of the negative sort, so she risks avoiding positive attention along with the bad.
She feels at home in shadows, and tends to shrink away from bright light, out of habit more than anything else. In darkness, she relaxes a little more. Her movements when walking are awkward, due to her “shoes”, but when barefoot (or hooved, as the case may be), she moves with an uncanny grace. She has a tendency to absent-mindedly stroke Speckle, even in the middle of conversation, as if without realizing what she’s doing, and the rabbit is her closest friend.
Not a bad way to spend midnight...
If you are still accepting submissions, I'd like to submit Derya Dušek, elven Cleric of Naderi.
Derya Dušek
Male elf Cleric 1
N Medium humanoid (elf)
Init +3; Senses Low-light vision; Perception +5
-Defense---------------------------------
AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 8 (1d8)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +4; (+2 against enchantments)
Immunity to sleep effects.
-Offense---------------------------------
Spd 30 ft.
Melee Switchblade +2 (1d4+2/19-20x2)
Ranged Longbow +3 (1d8/x3)
Spells Prepared (caster level 1, concentration +3)
1st (2+1/day, DC 13)
0 (DC 12)
Domains: Repose(Souls), Water (Oceans)
-Statistics------------------------------
Str 14, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 13
Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 15
Feats: Point-Blank Shot
Skills: Diplomacy +6, Knowledge (Religion) +5, Perform (lute) +6, Sense Motive +5.
Traits: Teacher's Pet; Dilettante Artist
Languages: Common, Elven, Gnome
Combat Gear: Switchblade, Longbow, Studded Leather
Special Abilities: Channel Energy 1d6 (4/day, DC 11), Surge (5/day), Touch of the Spirit World (1 round, 5/day)
Only ten years ago, Derya had it all; His studies in philosophy were progressing well, his social life was thriving, and he had a promising budding career as an musician. But one fateful day, a letter arrived that started the process leading to him abandoning all of these things in favor of serving a minor goddess of tragedies.
The letter was from professor Lorrimor, whom he had met when the professor's travels had brought him to hold a lecture around his neck of woods. Derya had vehemently disagreed with the basic premises of the professor's theory, but was amazed by the profound treatment of the subject, and went to meet the professor after the lecture. They debated the whole night and continued their debates by letters after the professor had left. But this letter was different: Instead of complex arguments or refutations of such, it contained an invitation to present his views at the University of Lepidstadt.
His presentation went well enough, despite being slightly distracted by a pretty half-elf, a student of magic and the "mortal sciences", who had came to hear it. The half-elf was named Daria Vãduva, and Derya became infatuated with her the moment he saw her, deciding to stay in Ustalav for a little while longer. Soon it came apparent that the feelings were mutual, and their wedding was celebrated in a year. Everything seemed to be well, for once.
This was not to last however. One night, when returning to Lepidstadt from a visit to a nearby village, the carriage they were travelling in was attacked. The driver was killed straight away, and both Derya and Daria were knocked out by the unknown assailants. Moments later they awoke in an abandoned church of Pharasma, which had been completely trashed and desecrated by profane symbols. Before them stood their captor, whose pale visage and sharp fangs betrayed him as a vampire. The vampire presented the a sadistic choice. If one of them would allow themselves to be sucked dry of blood and turned into a vamipiric thrall, the other would be freed unharmed.
Derya and Daria spent the next hour arguing, trying to convince the other to save themselves, but neither could abandon their spouse into the clutches of the vampire. In the end, Daria took the matters into her own hands and knocked Derya out with a spell. When he woke up, the sun had risen and neither the vampire nor his wife were anywhere to be seen.
Grief-striken and unable to fully comprehend why his wife had sacrified herself for him, the previously mostly irreligious elf tried to seek solace from the divine, but for no avail. The teachings of Shelyn couldn't pierce his sadness, the words of Calistria couldn't rouse him to seek revegne. He was too selfish to set off and spread goodness for Sarenrae, but couldn't bring himself low enough to start spreading pain and misery for Zon-Kuthon. But when he was only a step away from completely losing his will of life, he found something that resonated with his sorrow; An old book detailing the faith of the Lost Maiden, an ex-servant of Shelyn turned into the goddess of romantic tragedy and suicide. After a year he started carrying Naderi's holy symbol along, and after six more had passed the strange initation rites and been ordained into the clergy.
When he was informed about the professor's death, he was traveling around the cursed land of Ustalav, not only searching for his wife, but also bringing solace to the heartbroken and despair to those who cause it in others.
Derya is generally a helpful person, but his methods of helping people can sometimes be somewhat unethical. For him, the ends usually justify the means.
Having been living among non-elves for quite a time, he has mostly managed to shed the common elven arrogance from himself.
He's somewhat prone to moodswings, and can alternate between coming off warm and friendly or bitter and cold, depending on his mood.
I hope that it is readable, as it far past midnight over here. (GMT +2, I think. Daylight saving time confuses me. :P)
As for the mechanics, I've built Derya as an archer cleric, so in combat he'll mostly be shooting with his bow and casting buffs or the occasional battlefield-altering spell, such as Obscuring Mist, for example. Out of combat he's good at not making people stab him (Diplomacy) and knowing if people want to stab him (Sense Motive), plus utility spells.
Now, if you excuse me, I'll go catch some sleep. :P
Izzraen focuses on beguiling his foes in darkness, and if that fails, flanking them with a big ol' fighter. His faerie fire will help especially against invisible foes.
One way Im going to build him is to be a battle-thief, quick and deadly in combat, and a trap detector both un and out.
The day of selection approaches, fellow applicants. Suspense builds.
Good luck to everyone; many of you have quite interesting characters, and I look forward to playing with any of you if I'm picked.
If you are still accepting submissions, I'd like to submit Derya Dušek, elven Cleric of Naderi.
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **...
Welcome Derya! Yamyra/Fancy say hi as well.
Wow, I really goofed there... shows what you get for rushing a post just before bed. >.<
Aldra = Raldora = Me. Also, in case I've forgotten to mention it elsewhere, I'm EST.
Welcome Derya! Yamyra/Fancy say hi as well.
Seems like we end up often in the same recruitments. :P I'm not stalking you, I swear!
Alias for Derya here. Crossdressing avatar images FTW! Also, updated the statblock with equipment and spells. I'll decide whether to channel positive or negative based on the composition of the group, if picked. That being said, my preference would be negative. Takes care of the flies better. (Unless they're undead flies, of course...)
Also, count me in on those who'd like to see a multiple-divine party. It'd be fun to see how the differing faiths would interact.
As a player with a martial submission, I'm going to strongly disagree with the sentiment that an all divine party would be cool.
:)
As a martial character with divine tendencies... I am okay with that. ;)
As a marshal character who takes his worship of Abadar seriously... I'll trade you for your spot if you get it? :P
As a martial character whose opinion of the divine approximately stops at "Hail the Lord in Iron and fight fiercely!", I also oppose this divine cartel trying to monopolize the spots through religious trickery. :P
Relinking profile for the DM'S convenience since selection time is afoot.
Go Team Cleric! ;-)
Izorshi listened intently to the discussion over an all divine party.
Perhaps, she thought to herself, a group of martial adventurers would more readily accept me. Then again, other clerics may be more likely to understand why I am here.
I cannot know what sort of group would be best, I must be resigned to follow whatever adventuring party the gods deem necessary.
Arven observes Izorshi's contemplative look.
I wonder what someone so normal looking has to worry about, I have to hide my very nature lest the commonfolk get uppity... It's not easy being green...
Batros takes note of Arven's look of hesitation.
That one shouldn't be afraid of who he is. There is pride to be had in all races.
*Tries to bribe Izorshi with free Inflict Light Wounds.*
All Divine works for me just about as well as a regular party, just as long as it isn't a bunch of superstitious Barbarians who're afraid of ghosts.
I think all classes should take a back seat in the selection process and traditional horror roles be the focus. Some examples could be naive protagonist, learned scholar, noble something, doctor, muscle, and innocent caught in the fray.
As fun as a power game of all clerics on an undead heavy game sounds it would lack versatility and be too drab. My two cp is take backgrounds that work and unfold and interesting story, that is bloody horror gold!
I don't think anyone was seriously advocating for an all cleric party. I started it as a riff on an old OoTS comicstrip. Besides, it isn't our choice who is or who is not selected. We can only hope (and channel energy ;-)).
LOL
I know, was hoping people would add to horror roles... (Virgin, Jock, mad scientist, etc...)
Jeez on rereading my comment it sounds kinda douchy, my apologies to the board!
You're just jealous because you're just an inquisitor and not a real cleric.
In that case my character would be the virgin minority jock... oh god! First to die for sure XD
Izzyraen loves things that go bump in the night. Mostly because that it's usually him!
Izzyraen may be dark
But he never misses mark.
He may not be the brightest one
But just you see, he'll get it done!
These poor fools who live in light
Will soon fear Izzyraen's might.
His rapier pierces and his daggers fly
Before his enemies let forth a cry!
So if you fear Izzyraen not
Be prepared to be taught.
The Sable Mask will soon descend
And to Pharasma you'll be sent!