GM Rednal's Legendary Planet AP (Inactive)

Game Master Rednal

Between the lands of Osiron and Katapesh lie the Brazen Peaks a treacherous mountain range separating the two nations and existing as a home for monsters, bandits, and others who wish to remain hidden. Along one of these passes is a jagged column of pure obsidian shaped by the elements into a sharp and jagged form.

This column marks one of the few safe passages through the Brazen Peaks and is a helpful landmark to caravans and nomads who traverse between the two nations bringing trade and information with them.

But the black stone comes with its own portentous and terrible shadow bringing misfortune and death to those who tarry beneath its shadow. The rumors and superstition surrounding the rock have existed for nearly 500 years. In that time no travelers have dared camped beneath it without suffering its curse.

Which has worked well for the cult of Norgorber hidden in a large cavern network a short distance away from the stone and the source of the misfortune which befalls those travelers.

Desert assassins, thieves, and spies this cult has existed for as long as the stone has been erect. And why wouldn't it? They were the ones who erected it from the start. As a lure, as a sign, and as a warning.

The cult has no name of its own for labels and attachments are against Norgorber's teachings. Instead they hire themselves out as one group or another taking on names and habits when the time suits them. They willfully steal and shamelessly take the names of other groups seeing their own reputation as unimportant in the Shadow Scorpion's grand schemes.

Into this den of lies, death, and shadow was born the boy that would become Penance. Tearing from his mothers womb the sickly looking baby bore a terrible vigor and was drawn to death like a carcass fly. Typically, such a child would be sent to an orphanage, or otherwise abandoned depending on the parents wishes as life under the Shadow Scorpion is poorly suited for young children.

Intrigued, the head priest sought communion with Norgorber about what to do with the child. To his delight a herald answered and announced that the boy was drawn from a lineage of terrible Daemons. More than that, his was a rare breed that had the ability to tear souls out directly from living things, and with the correct preparation and ritual, hand them directly to Norgorber himself.

Such a boy was seen as nothing less than a blessing to the unnamed cult. And as such he was raised to be chief among their assassins and through summoning and divinations taught by Daemons the secrets of soul stealing, of defying the will of the cosmos themselves and serving the very essence of his victims into the his lord's black claws.

In addition to these tests came constant tests of silence, secrecy, and loyalty. Poisoning his food, sudden attacks, faked attacks and interrogations by authorities Penance was the constant subject to a culture of paranoia, fear, and secrecy. Trust no one. Trust, love, and friendship are merely the more subtle tools of conquerors. Guard your secrets or die.

Appearance

Tikston Yarnspinner is short, even for a gnome. Perhaps it's his advancing age, or perhaps height is just one of those things Yarnspinners always seem short of, like marbles for instance. Despite his stature, his features are quintessentially gnomish (at least to him), with large eyes and mouth, a shock of unruly orange hair linked by sideburns to a beard ending in a sharp point at his chin, and a massive hooked nose that could only be described as a paragon of its kind. A small pair of reading glasses adorn his nose, their size juxtaposed against that of his proboscis. He prefers to wear fine, brightly colored clothing, clothing suited more for a noble than an explorer, and keeps a spare set just in case he needs to look his finest after an expedition (or during it).

Tikston is friendly, perhaps even boisterous, happy to greet new friends and happier still to greet new clients. He greatly enjoys jokes, and absolutely loves pulling one over on his clients, especially for a profit. Despite that, he is always true to his word, feeling that lies are fine in negotiation or pranks, but as a businessgnome, a contract's a contract. He deals with all manner of races and clients, taking jobs that range from pure archaeology to less than legal smuggling of artifacts.

His ever-present accomplice, Rockington, appears as a squat, human-sized mass of carved stone and rubble. The stones and rubble appear to have once belonged to some sort of ancient ruin or another, having sharp corners and other constructed features. Strange writing decorates many of their surfaces, remenants of some lost civilization. Semi-precious stones and crystals also adorn Rockington, protruding in various patterns that it changes to suit its whims. Where its "head" is, two large garnets float amidst the rubble, appearing to be the creature's eyes.

Introduction

"Professor Tikston Yarnspinner, world-renowned archaeologist, spelunker, explorer, antiquities trader, merchant, etcetera, at your service!" the small red-headed gnome said cheerfully with a bow. "And this is my assistant Prof. Rockington Pebb..."

His introduction of the mass of carved stone and rubble standing behind him was interrupted by a rumbling voice. In passable common the elemental began to protest. "My name is Kszkr..." Before it could finish, however, the aging gnome returned the favor, cutting him off as well, "Yes, yes, Rocky. Look, no one can pronounce your name, so we're going with Professor Rockington Pebblesworth, Esquire. We've had this conversation a half-dozen times. You know I don't pay you to stand around complaining about a perfectly good name!"

"You don't pay me at all..." the elemental rumbled back, finishing with a pebbley harrumph.

"Details, Details! Anyway, you've totally interrupted my train of thought." The gnome rubbed his temples, trying to remember what he was doing. "What was I doing?" he thought aloud. Rockington tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the man standing just a few feet away from him. "What? Yes, there's a man there, stop bothering me while I'm thinking." Rockington tapped him again, this time rumbling "Client" as he did.

"Client? What? Don't be prepo... That's what I was doing! I was introducing myself to a client, it's a good thing I've got a memory like a steel trap or we'd never get anything done. My apologies for my assistant's poor manners. Used to be that elementals knew proper ettiquite, but now it's all interruptions and complaints about naming and not getting paid and being overworked and..."

Tikston coughed loudly and restarted the conversation where it should have been. "So you know of an Azlanti ruin, and you want something retrieved from it, yes? You'll find Rockington and I are the best there are. We've been through ruins all over the world and even under it. In exchange I just ask for a small amount of gold up front to cover the expenses associated with the expedition, and a finder's fee upon delivery. Additionally we split any additional artifacts or magic items we've found evenly between the three of us."

Tikston listened to his client's complaints in regards to the split before responding. "What? Not 50/50 good sir! We split it between the three of us: a third for you, a third for me and a third for Rockington, of course. It's not like he works for free. What do you take him for, some sort of bound elemental servant or something? Absolutely preposterous!" Tikston rolled his eyes and snorted disapprovingly.

"So do we have a deal?" Tikston said, extending his hand to shake on it. "Excellent, Rockington and I shall depart first thing tomorrow morning, we'll just need that gold now, and we'll be in contact with you again in the near future."

After taking the gold from the man, he and Rockington departed. Once he was sure the man was out of earshot, he burst into laughter. "Did you see the look on his face when I said you didn't work for free, Rocky? He was so confused! It's enough to make my week!" he said, delighted at successfully bluffing his way to a two-thirds share of the loot. He jingled the coin purse once for good measure before putting it safely in his pack.

The elemental emitted a high-pitched sound like two rocks grinding together, which functioned remarkably well as a sigh. "You still havent given me the gems you promised..."

"Yes, yes, Rocky, I'll get you gems! I've got an IOU right up here!" he said, tapping his pointer finger against his temple. "But first we've got an expedition to plan!"

"Not good enough." the Old Man simply said.

The voice startled him. No one was supposed to be here. Least of all himself. He began to form his weapon.

"That won't help you here." the Old Man said. Rajni's weapon, now fully formed, teleported to the Old Man's hand, then promptly disappeared.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Rajni asked of the Old Man.

Ignoring the question, the Old Man replied, "How did you know you'd find what you were looking for?"

Rajni thought for a moment. "I didn't. I knew there was something worth knowing in here, so I came. It wasn't difficult to see that this text was more valuable than the others," he said, indicating the parchment, "What happens now?"

"That depends on you. Here you stand, in a nexus of secret truths. A warrior, but I see you have some understanding of what you have seen," he said, indicating Rajnis hands, around which shifting patterns were materializing.

Rajni looked with a start, wide-eyed. "What is this?"

"You've seen one small piece of the pattern that links everything, and everyone. There is more, much more, to be seen... by one who looks."

Rajni looked at the man. Skin like the sole of a boot, hair white like milk. Piercing eyes ringed by cracks reminiscent of the great salt flats. "I'd look for more."

"Good. When you come again, wear these," said the man, throwing him a bundle of robes.

"Who are you?" Rajni asked of the Old Man.

"Parashurama," came the reply, "I grow tired. Return tomorrow." With that, the man turned away, and simply disappeared.

Rajni looked at the robes, put them on, and walked out the front door and into the night air.

***********

Darkness.

In the practice arena, Rajni crouched in the long shadows punctuated by torchlight, intent on hearing any sign of Nagesh. Nagesh was the next-most skilled member of his class in the Monastery of Hungry Shadows. Nagesh hated Rajni for having bested him at their last duel. Nagesh had always had a superiority complex, bristling at every perceived slight as if he was too good for this place. Rajni, on the other hand, simply focused on his own training, which infuriated Nagesh even more.

"I see you, Raj," Nagesh's voice crooned, from everywhere and nowhere.

"Yet you keep your distance."

A sharp exhale in anger gave Nagesh away a second before the strike. a small blade whizzed past the blur where Rajni's head was a split-second prior. He ran, not quite quietly enough, towards one of the pools of light. The sound attracted Nagesh like a shark to blood in the water.

"You think to hide in the light?" Nagesh taunted.

"Better than hiding in the darkness," replied Rajni.

No sharp exhale this time, but he imagined the blow well-struck. He leapt from the darkness and into the light, as a diver would surface for air. The shark was on his tail, however. His tattoo glowed with warmth, covered by his clothing, and only he sensed it. His vision became sharper, but filled with shades of possibilities a heart's beat in the future.

One such shade grew more distinct, and he raised his blade to parry an incoming dagger, thrown from the pool of darkness at the light's edge.

"You do nothing but provide me with a target. Why don't you fight?"

"A target you have yet to hit, Nagesh," Another dagger whistled through the air, dissipating after biting deep into the wood behind Rajni. "Your anger blinds you."

"I'll not be goaded so easily. You cannot throw your ridiculous blade, and you cannot chase what you cannot find. You will bleed from a thousand cuts," came the voice from the darkness. Not moving, watching from around a corner. The outline became less muddy in the darkness beyond the flame's reach.

Another dagger came and went, then another.

"You cannot dodge forever, Raj. You tire."

Electing not to respond, Rajni focused on the darker shadow. It moved between three particular spots. The pattern had emerged, as Parashurama had taught that it would.

He closed his eyes, blocking out all but the trajectory of Nagesh's movement. He could see when the dagger would fly. Half a second before that moment, Rajni reached out his hand and a beam of black light leapt out at Nagesh. Though he had aimed at the body, it struck Nagesh in the leg and threw him off-balance, causing him to careen into the corner he had planned to hide behind.

"That was no blade, scum. I will have you expelled for this!" Nagesh screamed, sharply inhaling through his teeth as he attempted to rise. One of the instructors emerged from the shadows, pulling a brightly-glowing stone from his pocket to light the wound. The instructor silently placed a hand on Nagesh's head, and his eyelids closed peacefully as the instructor's other hand drew poultice from a small pot tied to his belt and smoothed it over the weeping wound on Nagesh's leg.

In focusing on the scene he had caused, he missed the instructor coming up from his own flank. Not that he would have noticed normally, anyway. The instructors were shadow incarnate.

"You have received outside instruction, I see. Your eyes show the Seer's touch. You think yourself so accomplished here that you may train elsewhere in your clearly over-abundant leisure time? You think yourself a champion for having bested the prattling son of a noble? You think the answers can be seen in others before they must be seen inside yourself?" The questions, though asked in an even tone, were deep-cutting accusations.

"No, Grandmaster. I thought to seek more knowledge. To know more than the art of the blade," Rajni responded with a mixture of deference and desire to stand his own ground.

"You seek more knowledge before you have absorbed what you have been given. Your reach exceeds your grasp. A fine trait, if tempered with wisdom and experience. Very well. You will take the next test early. Report to the cells." The instructor said, turning and disappearing around a corner.

Rajni's heart simultaneously sank and nearly burst from his chest. The test was simple, remain in a dark cell, devoid of outside stimuli, and search within oneself for the period of seven days, one's only bodily sustenance being bread and water. The maddening part, which caused the most students to fail, was the fact that they could walk out at any time. One had to make due, and dive deep into one's own mind, to pass their time with some semblance of peace. To Rajni, this was a chance to prove he was ready for the next tier of instruction.

***********

Cha’tima Achak (Tima to his friends) is, or was, an apprentice to one of the shamans of the Skoan-Qua. He was selected at a young age to commune with the spirits, and has been raised to revere his ancestors, and trained to call upon them for guidance when he is in need.
Tima, despite much of his time being taken up by spiritual education and meditation was also a natural warrior. Often, he would sneak out and watch the warriors of the clan train in combat, and he too wished to join in. It took him a long time to work up the courage to ask to be trained himself, and when he did the men were naturally reluctant, fearful of harming the shaman’s favored. But his natural charm eventually won them over, and he began to learn the art of war piecemeal.

He took to it like a fish to water, though his growth was stunted by his practice time being limited. Nevertheless, his natural talent made up for it, putting him only slightly behind the boys who were training to be warriors full time. He began to pray to the spirits “make me a warrior”.

They obliged, though perhaps not in the manner he would have liked.
In the night, goblins attacked where Tima’s clan had made camp for the night. He was awoken by the sound of a goblin splashing a vial of fire against the tent he and the shaman shared and cackling in mad glee. Tima rushed out, foolishly in hindsight, being neither armed nor armored into a dangerous situation.

Sure enough, he was quickly set upon by a pair of goblins, dogslicers gleaming wickedy in the fire light and their nasty teeth showing through their grins. Tima was convinced this was the end.
“Please, spirits.” he implored “Arm me so I can fight.”
And again, they obliged, a crude club of pure force materializing in his hands, much to the shock of both himself and the goblins facing him. Recovering quickly, he crushed the skull of one before it could react, and then turned to face the other. A mistake, as it turned out, as the crude knife bit into his face, taking one of his eyes and scarring his face.

He awoke several days later, slightly panicked at the darkness shrouding the world to the right of him.
“You’re a fool boy.” His master sighed as he applied more poultice, out of sight the way Tima’s head was turned “But at least you’re alive.”

He would later find out that the “battle” as he referred to it (little more than a raid from a dozen goblins, if that) had been repelled swiftly and mercilessly by the tribe’s warriors, the most grievous injury being to himself.

For a while after that, the clan warriors refused to train him further, feeling both guilty, and ashamed of him at the same time. If they hadn’t taught him to fight, would he have been so foolish as to rush into combat?

This left him with time for much meditation, and to continue his shamanly training. The encounter with the goblin had had one beneficial side effect. Whether because of an awakening of his spiritual powers, the trauma of his partial blinding, or both, Cha’Tima now had a much closer connection to the spirit world. He could see and manipulate the spirits much more freely than before, his eye blind to the natural world, but free to see the spirit world at all times. His master was pleased with his newfound rapid progress, and permitted him much more time to himself, since he required less time devoted to his studies (the hardest part of communing with the spirits is being able to train yourself to see and hear them, after all, and Tima had mastered that).

He began to “train” his martial abilities by himself, but it was little more than boyish flailing without guidance. Worse, the loss of his eye had thrown off his balance, and given him a weakness to compensate for, setting him back years of training.
After a while, the men took pity on him, feeling he had suffered long enough away from something he clearly had the dedication to pursue, and a grizzled one-eyed veteran of the group took over his training, teaching him to compensate for his weakness, and soon he was back on track.

More secretively, he honed his ability to conjure weapons from the air, though still has yet to progress beyond being able to draw it at will and determine whether it has a sharp point, a sharp edge, or a blunt one, the weapons being crude and appearing off balance (though having next to no weight, this was not really an issue).

[To Be Continued]

You have learned to focus your subconscious mind even while awake.

Prerequisites: Psionic Body, Autohypnosis 4 ranks.

Benefit: You can psionically focus your subconscious in the same manner in which you gain psionic focus normally. At any time when you need to expend your psionic focus, you can expend your subconscious’s psionic focus instead. At any time when you need to maintain psionic focus for an effect, you can use your subconscious’s psionic focus instead. Psionically focusing your subconscious works just like focusing your conscious mind.

Special: You cannot benefit from both Psicrystal Containment and Deep Focus at the same time. If you have both feats, you may only have your psicrystal or your subconscious maintaining psionic focus at any given time.

For fifteen years the boy that would become Penance turned into a young man. In those dark caves lost in hot desert mountains the young man would see the sun but rarely and death often.

Before he was 13 the young man had mastered the necessary rituals and powers necessary to tear a soul directly from a body barely clinging to life and send that soul into Norgorber's realm. By the time he was 15 he had learned almost countless ways to kill a man, leave them incapacitated, or injure them in ways that appeared accidental to the untrained eye.

As his training intensified so to did the loyalty tests, the attempts on his life, and the harsh interrogation sessions. When the boy was not killing, or being taught how to kill, he was tormented relentlessly.

On his fifteenth birthday this came to a bloody and terrible end.
In their most extreme test of loyalty Penance's handlers told him to murder one of the "lesser performing" members of their order. He did so and was immediately attacked as a traitor to the order.
The idea is that they would capture and interrogate him and attempt to pry the information about the orders from him to test the limits of his loyalty and his ability to keep secrets.

What they could not imagine was that he would succeed in slaying his would be captors and escaping the cave network into the mountains.

Incapable of trust and now unsure of his purpose he fled west deeper into the mountains and into regions where few if any humans dwell.

While there he stole, killed, and scavenged whatever he could while he constantly prayed and meditated for some form of answer from the Shadow Scorpion. But, Norgorber speaks rarely and guides never. For a full year this cycle passed until the day that the young man ran afoul of a mountain lion while taking game escaping only when he fell down a steep cliff breaking three of his limbs and putting him on the brink of death
He was rescued by a man named Abad, who never gave his last name, who took the broken young man to his mountain hideaway and nursed him slowly back to health.

While there the young man learned that Abad was once a wealthy man and fervent worshiper of Abadar. Yet, after years of enjoying the wealth and prosperity that his life brought him he found that he was unsatisfied with his life and that despite his fatih that his soul felt empty, his life pointless.
In a fit of revelation however Abad had given all his wealth over to the poor, the sick, and to the Church of Sarenrae, while to Sarenism and using what was left of his money to wander into the Brazen peaks to meditate on the meaning of life and what it means to be good.

The young man, naturally, found the man insane. The young man openly questioned his philosophies and choices in life. Why give anything to those whom you have nothing to gain from? Why spend so much time gaining in wealth and power only to throw it all away?

The man would merely smile, nod and answer with questions of his own. What was the point of self-indulgence at the expense of others? What is life as a person if you can do nothing but live as a paranoid animal atop a pile of wealth?

Such questions only served to infuriate him, and as soon as he was physically able he stole away into the night carrying as much food and belongings as he could carry into the darkness.

But other hunters were on the prowl, for gnolls ruled the Brazen Peaks, and such a group so accustomed to the trails and the scent of weak prey easily tracked the young man. Chasing him, hounding him, reveling in the way they do at the scent of weakness and fear.

Still, even they were surprised by the boys ferocity when cornered and decided to kill rather than enslave him. They nearly succeeded if Abad had not intervened before the killing blow was landed. But, only at the cost of Abad's left eye.

As the injured young man and Abad led one another back to their cave hideaway the young man asked Abad why he would go through the trouble of saving him knowing that he had taken things from him and might have easily killed him.

Sheepishly Abad had answered that he was concerned for the boy being not completely healed from the lion attack and, a bit more selfishly, the young man had stolen his favorite bowl.

The answer, and the emotions that followed, marked a direct turning point in the young mans life. Guilt, shame, and an overwhelming sense of empathy from Abad forced the young man to consider his place in the world.

Over the next few weeks as the young man and Abad recovered the young man shared much of his history. The training, the tests, the brutal murders and ritual sacrifices. Much of it he expect Abad to be sickened by, even disgusted and angry. But instead Abad would simply nod and say nothing. Sometimes he would question whether or not all of that was merely preparation for a greater purpose. After all, Abad would argue, in order to make a clean cut you had to know of anatomy. In order to make an effective poison you had to understand a body's reaction to it. Even in the case of getting close to a victim you had to learn the social graces and necessary flattery in order to get close. Perhaps he could turn those around. Maybe he could use the turn the lifestealing energies of his otherworldly powers in reverse?

Contemplating these questions himself the young man decided that he needed to find such answers himself, not as a hermit in the mountains, but living among people. On the second anniversary of his flight from the cult of Norgorber he left Abad in peace and headed for the ancient city of Ipeq to answer the question of turning the arts of death and deceit into those of life and compassion.

Step 1: Write 5 background and concept elements that you feel are important to your image of the character. These can be a concept overview, a list of important life events, a physical description, a personality profile...whatever you need to get an image in your mind. 5 is just a minimum...more elements are encouraged!

Jak Sykes is the consummate traveler: he pays his respects the the Goddess of Travelers and Luck, and receives Her blessings in return. He tries to return home every few years to visit his family's graves, but something always manages to catch his attention and put it off. A good natured and helpful man, he finds his greatest joy in sleeping under the stars in anticipation of what the next morning will bring.

Jak was the only one of his family to want to leave the rustic little town of his birth. For better or worse, this also meant that he was the only one to survive the plague that swept through the area.

Jak has made his living most often by taking up jobs as a long distance messenger; travelling between cities alone and with groups. He also makes it a point to find a nice gambling den in whichever town he finds himself; he's always a fair bit of luck on his side and the extra coin is never unwelcome.

If he's being honest with himself, the only thing that would make him truly happy with his life is friends - and perhaps a woman by his side - who get the same joy from his various undertakings as he does.

He's had to make use of his longspear not a few times, and his minor first aid abilities more often still, but he would never call himself an "adventurer".

Step 2: List at least two goals for the character. At least one of these goals should be one that the character has, while another should be one that you, as a player, want to see developed over the course of the game.

Jak has been bitten by the Wanderlust bug. His ultimate goal is to visit every plane of existence.

Depending on where the AP takes us, I'd like to have Jak be the first of any Earthly race to step foot on at least one planet or moon. Preferably uninhabited, but inhabitable. Military outpost, colonization effort, random exploration, whatever the reason.

Step 3: List at least two secrets about your character. One is a secret the character knows, one is a secret that involves him but that he is not actually aware of yet. This will help me in creating plots that center around your character. I will also be creating a third secret which you as a player will not be aware of, so expect some surprises!

At least one of Jak's siblings survived his hometown plague but was horribly transformed by it.

As a child, Jak stole an ancient heirloom from the family of another child who had bullied him. It was buried on the outskirts of town and hadn't been found as of the day that Jak left his home.

Step 4: Describe at least three people that are tied to the character. Two of them are friendly to the character, one is hostile. If you like, you can include an enemy of yours here as well, so I have an instant NPC nemesis to throw at you.

Jak is on "friendly enemy" terms with at least one gang leader. They met at a tavern over a game of Liar's Dice and meet up for a pint whenever Jak is in the vicinity. Jak knows about his professional dealings, but neither takes part in nor hinders them. In return, Jak is the only outsider (that the Boss will admit to) who is never even bothered about a "toll" when travelling into and out of the city. This is extended to any caravan that Jak may be travelling with.

There is a well known rare artifacts merchant named Ominifis Dran that always seems to be in the city that Jak is in. This has occurred so often, with ostensibly the same merchant, that Jak has begun to wonder if it is more of a franchise manned by clones than a single shop. Whatever the reason, Jak always goes to him first when he is in need of something or has something to sell.

Jak has been followed by one thug in particular: a noisy halfling who always wants to pick a fight and goes by the name of Artemis. His standard operating procedures are to wait until Jak is departing from a set of ruins or other potentially treasure-filled area, and then confront Jak in order to take said treasures for himself. It rarely works.

Step 5: Describe three memories, mannerisms, or quirks that your character has. They don't have to be elaborate, but they should provide some context and flavor.

If Jak is moving on his own, he runs. He doesn't take a horse or wagon; he just runs. It's a favorite pasttime and expeditious mode of travel, though not as comfortable as a wagon or as fast as a horse. If he is with a group, he will conform to their preferred method of travel, though every other day - as long as the opportunity is available - he will go out and run for several miles.

This particular habit grew alongside his greatest memory. Growing up in a frontier town, kids made their own games and contests. One of the more common tests of physical endurance was a long distance run. When Jak was 11 he won his first race. The next year, he asked to be timed. When he was 16, he shattered the current record for a run to the next town.

Jak always has a deck of cards on hand. Surprisingly clumsy with small dextrous movements, he could never pass for a sleight of hand artist, but the thrill of card and dice games - especially those involving a large amount of luck - are always able to keep him entertained.

Jak Sykes Gestalt
Male human bard (voice of the wild) 1/cleric (varisian pilgrim) of Desna 1/gestalt 1
CG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +0; Senses Perception +8
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Defense
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AC 13, touch 10, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor)
hp 12 (1d8+4)
Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +6
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Offense
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Speed 40 ft. (30 ft. in armor)
Melee longspear +1 (1d8+1/×3) or
morningstar +1 (1d8+1)
Special Attacks bardic performance 7 rounds/day (distraction, fascinate [DC 13], inspire courage +1), caravan bond, channel positive energy 6/day (DC 13, 1d6)
Domain Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +5)
7/day—bit of luck
Bard (Voice of the Wild) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4)
1st (2/day)—charm person (DC 14), cheetah's spirit
0 (at will)—ghost sound (DC 13), lullaby (DC 13), mage hand, spark[APG] (DC 13)
Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +5)
1st—endure elements, longstrider[D], read weather
0 (at will)—guidance, light, purify food and drink (DC 14)
D Domain spell; Domains Luck, Travel
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Statistics
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Str 12, Dex 11, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 18, Cha 16
Base Atk +0; CMB +1; CMD 11
Feats Endurance, Toughness
Traits Axe to Grind, Born Free, Starchild
Skills Craft (shoes) +4, Diplomacy +7, Heal +8, Knowledge (geography) +4, Knowledge (local) +4, Knowledge (nature) +5, Perception +8, Perform (oratory) +7, Profession (gambler) +8, Survival +5 (+9 to avoid getting lost); Racial Modifiers starchild
Languages Common
SQ agile feet (7/day), loner, variant channeling (luck variant channeling)
Other Gear studded leather, longspear, morningstar, backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, candle (10), flint and steel, hemp rope (50 ft.), holy text, mess kit, pot, soap, spell component pouch, torch (10), trail rations (5), waterskin, wooden holy symbol of Luck, 96 gp
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Special Abilities
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Agile Feet (7/day) (Su) For 1 rd, you ignore difficult terrain.
Axe to Grind +1 trait bonus on damage against foes who are threatened by only you.
Bardic Performance (standard action, 7 rounds/day) Your performances can create magical effects.
Bit of Luck (7/day) (Sp) Target takes the higher of 2d20 for a d20 roll.
Born Free (1/day) Reroll a saving throw vs. a compulsion effect. Keep new roll even if worse.
Caravan Bond (5 companions) (Su) After a minute of group prayer, may use a domain-granted power on up to 5 travelling companions within 30 feet.
Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) Domain (Luck) Granted Powers: You are infused with luck, and your mere presence can spread good fortune.
Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) Domain (Travel) Granted Powers: You are an explorer and find enlightenment in the simple joy of travel, be it by foot or conveyance or magic. Increase your base speed by 10 feet.
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 1d6 (6/day, DC 13) (Su) Positive energy heals the living and harms the undead; negative has the reverse effect.
Endurance +4 to a variety of fort saves, skill and ability checks. Sleep in L/M armor with no fatigue.
Hero Points Hero Points can be spent at any time to grant a variety of bonuses.
Loner -1 to AC and attack when adjacent to ally or using aid another.
Luck Variant Channeling (±1 Sacred) Bonus to one roll/penalty on all rolls
Starchild +4 survival to avoid becoming lost. Automatically determine north.