GMT's Carrion Crown - The Eternal Darkness

Game Master GM_ToddPBC

Her hair is dark black and forms dreadlocks with bits of bone intertwined, but along the left side her hair is braided into close cornrows and died white. Below her white braids white Shoanti tribal face paint covers 1/3 of her face in the shape of a cracked skull covering the left side of her forehead and extending around her nose and arching at an angle along her left cheek towards the back of her jaw and left ear.

Her eyes are dark brown. Her left eye is dressed heavily with black eye shadow forming what looks like socket of the skull with her face paint. A jagged scar running diagonally across her eye is also shaded black forming a crack in the tribal skull painted on her face. Silver eye-liner is coated applied her right eye.

She has 3 silver piercings in her right eyebrow and a silver earring with small onyx jewels hangs on her right ear, a token of her mothers, her bottom lip is pierced at the center with a small silver bar. Around her neck hangs a necklace with various tribal totems and a symbol of Gorum all of which carved of bone, a token from her father. Various white and black tribal tattoos adorn most of the rest of her body covered up usually by clothes they tell tales of her family history, accomplishments, and tribal identity.

Her armor is a strange mixture of chain-mail and a number of ceramic plates painted bone white. A battered white skull of cinderwolf covers her left shoulder a tribal piece-meal addition to her armor. Her clothing covers most of her armor and is made up of black and white cloth sewn together with white and black wolf pelts to keep her warm while traveling and complete with a black hood and cloak which is matted torn near the bottom from heavy use. Her Morning-star and Battle aspergillum fits the theme of her look as both are crafted into the shape of a skull while her light shield is made of dried black wood with a skull engraved on the front the outline traced in white. Her two daggers are her brothers with handles made of cinder wolf bone and etched in tribal markings.

*Note: Most Shoanti shave their heads, but as she's been cast out from her Quah she's grown her own hair out over the years. It's an act that reflects her shame and the belief that she is no longer a true Shoanti.

Her wild aptitude for divine magic coupled with her cursed nature split the tribe into those who believed her to be a great gift from the heavens and those that looked upon her as an omen of ill fortune. Given this divide among the elders her tasks where relegated to healing the sick when in dire need and keeping watch over the tribe along in a secluded watch point along a cliff face overlooking one of the few permanent Shaonti settlements.

Her life came unraveled one year when people and most strangely dead bodies that where supposed to arrive from various Shaonti tribes to undergo funeral rites began vanishing. Sometimes the bodies would mysteriously vanish as Skoan-Quah riders would show up with one or two bodies missing than they had originally picked up. Sometimes the bodies would simply vanish from yurts containing the dead a day before they where scheduled to be burned in holy ritual. Even worse people would suddenly vanish in the middle of the night with no signs of struggle or foul play. Panic swept over the Skoan Quah as their tribe was tasked with dealing with the Shoanti dead and insuring their spirits journey to the beyond. More than one member of the clan began to whisper talk of this being somehow related to Kayela. This infuriated the young woman and she set out to discover the cause of these disappearances.

Late one night she got lucky and noticed two figures leaving a sacred yurt with a body. She pursued the culprits to an ancient ruin only to discover the faces of her uncle and brother as the corpse thieves. Surprised and enraged by the proceedings she flew at them and demanded to know the meaning of what they where doing. She was even doubly surprised when they came at her and attacked their own kin. She fought them off in a battle that nearly claimed her life and produced the scar along her left eye inflicted by her brothers long spear. The battle resulted in the deaths of her remaining family, but as she stood there wounded and in disbelief a vampire spawn attacked (the same one who had been dominating others to steal bodies for him and then feeding on his dominated victims). Miraculously able to deny it's attempts at domination Kayela caught the upper hand. Unfortunately it's physical strength overwhelmed her just as easily. Lying on her back about to be defeated she heard the spirits of her ancestors calling to her they pointed her in the direction of a piece of wood from her brothers broken spear. Surprising the vampire spawn with a surge of strength she managed to trip the undead monster and wrestle it to the ground beating it into submission and driving a stake through it's heart slaying the foul creature.

Badly wounded she gathered up the 4 bodies (uncle, brother, skewered vampire spawn, and the stolen corpse) and began the journey back to camp. She was considerably slowed down by her new found burdens and her wounds. As she struggled close to camp dawn broke the sun setting afire her vile shish-kabobed quarry. Panicked she attempted to put it out only sparing a small piece of garment before the rest of the body turned to ash. She passed out around half a mile before getting back to her camp.

She awoke in chains as to the Shoanti who found her the situation appeared strange and unclear. The camp was a lit with rumors of her uncle and brother who discovered her stealing a corpse and fought her in an epic struggle. The elders not sure of what to believe decided on exile as the most appropriate measure. Soon after her exile the vanishing people and corpses ceased; all but confirming the wise decision made by her clans elders.

After her exile Kayela set up shop as a mystical healer in Sandpoint an oddity she stood out among it's residents. In her time in Sandpoint she soon fell pray to shady dealings and became addicted to shiver. It was here that she met Professor Lorrimor as along his travels the Shoanti mystic and her strange cursed nature intrigued his intellectual mind. Upon this fateful meeting Professor Lorrimor instantly recognized a piece of cloth that was nailed to the wall of her shack with the tip of a broken spear. The cloth was aged and old, but it had the symbol of a necromantic cult known as the Wispering Way. Interested to hear the story Kayela told him of the tragedy of how she lost her last remaining family and was since exiled from her tribe. Lorrimor took an interest in her fascinating tale and shared with her the knowledge that the possessor of the fabric was somehow connected to the necromantic cult. He kept in contact with her regularly and presented information about her story, her clan, and her unique gifts as part of a study.

After the meeting Kayela had strange vision-dreams of undead rising from the dead and marching on Varisia from the east as they mumbled only in whispers. Shaken by the visions she quit her addiction to shiver cold turkey and left Sandpoint and wondering east taking the vision as a omen and has since dedicated her life to slaying the undead and hunting for any clues to the vile mythical cult. Little did she know that Professor Lorrimor, the first to point out the vampire spawns strange connection with the cult, would serve her once more as the event of his death will draw her to the hamlet of Ravengro where she would pick up a lead on the whispering way, whose trail had long since gone quiet.

Kayela pauses for a moment with a look quite sadness on her face at the latter part end of the question, "Ah, I am Kayela dah Rest Bringer foe tah dark abominations dat should 'ave feld dis mortal coil wid grace. I hail from dah west, Varisia, and was brought up en dah harsh storval plateau in deh cindar lands near the mind-spin mountains"

2. How were you acquainted with Professor Lorrimor?

Kayela cringes for a moment at the context of 'were' before replying, "Deh man was drawn tah me by tah fates on evening in my time as a healer in Sandpoint. He found me interesting an I found em quite charming" She says with a toothy grin. "He 'ad herd dah tale of my survival against the spawn of a wicked vampire in my youth and wished tah inquire about the tale. He was fascinated by mah life an we kept regular correspondences over dah years which he used to publish a study on mah peoples culture and our respect fa deh dead. His visit profoundly changed mah path dat evening"

3. How would you describe your personality?

She beams warmly, I am bot a humble healer kind hearted and respectful to all those I meet. I do mah part bringing dose close to death back tah the warm comfort ah life. I will always help dose in need and pay no heed to that which stands in mah way. I come off as intimidating to some, but they quickly learn dat I'm sweetar den sugar'd plums. Only abomination need fear me.

4. Do you buy into the superstitious paradigms of the denizens of Ustalav?

She looks confused for a moment, "Superstitions? Dah plague of evil that surrounds dis land an torments dese people is nah idle tale. Yah best believe in such stories for life in Ustalav is besieged such wicked things"

As he grew Kolgrym began to have vivid dreams about strange, masked creatures. When Professor Lorrimor eventually contacted the young dwarf to inquire about the events surrounding Kolgrym's birth, the Professor was able to identify the creatures as psychopomps, servants of Pharasma. Believing the dreams may be more than the product of a dwarf's imagination, Lorrimor helped Kolgrym learn Celestial so that he might understand the creatures.

The psychopomps guided Kolgrym, training him in the mysteries of Pharasma's church and revealing to him weaknesses of the undead, creatures worthy of only total destruction. Kolgrym supplemented this instruction with research of his own, consulting the Blue Warders of the Five Kings Mountains and eventually journeying to their library in order to continue his studies. It is here that he received notice of the Professor's death.

How were you acquainted with Professor Lorrimor?
"The Professor contacted me by messenger. He had heard of certain peculiarities surrounding my birth, and expressed a desire to verify them. After corresponding for several months Lorrimor made the journey to Tar-Kazmukh. I do not know if he was able to gather the information he came for, but he helped me make peace with my origins and ultimately set me on the path that would lead me to my mistress."

How would you describe your personality?
"My spirit is old, even for a dwarf. I am cloaked in death itself, and it is a burden I can never be free of. Life is defined by birth and death, and as a servant of Pharasma it is my responsibility to bear witness to both. I hold neither pity nor sorrow for the dead; the order of nature must be maintained, and though I rejoice when someone achieves his destiny, I have no mercy for any who would cheat death in order to do so."

"The Lady of Graves is merciful to those who abide by the natural order. When wronged, her wrath is capable of shattering worlds. I am an instrument of my mistress, and I serve as she wills."

Do you buy into the superstitious paradigms of the denizens of Ustalav?
"Those who cower from the challenges of life can never achieve their destiny. The people of Ustalav are wise to harbor fear of the unknown, but the paralysis that results from that fear, the people's misplaced hatred toward outsider, only serves to sever them from their potential. I have little patience for their foolishness."

He practiced with the awkward weapon, hiring an alchemist to study the powder than allowed it to function and teach him how to create it himself. He studied the gun inside and out, taking it apart several times to study it. His parents found it quite funny when he first took it apart and it took him a week to put it back together properly again.

After several years he had actually become skilled with it, though he never had occasion to use it until he was shopping one day and saw a shop owner, sporting many bruises and a broken nose, shouting that someone had beaten and robbed him. Raz saw the man running and gave chase. When he caught up with the thief he tried his sword though was no match for the veteran swordsman. In a moment of desperation he drew his gun and, with a resounding boom, brought justice to injustice.

From that day on Raz was restless, walking through the town often and unable to turn a blind eye to the myriad injustices that plagued his country. Finally, it became too much and he decided to leave. He could do no lasting good in this gods forsaken country, but perhaps elsewhere he could give some peace in a place where not everyone hid a dagger behind them and took an exposed back as an invitation to stick it in to the hilt.

He has traveled far and seen much, and although he has developed a sense of pragmatism to temper his idealistic tendencies, he still firmly believes that there is no excuse for hurting others and has never hesitated to use his gun when words are useless.

As for attire, he wears a pair of dark brown leather pants supported by a black leather belt with the same crest as his hair ring on the buckle. His boots are the same color of leather as his belt with scuff marks and dirt covering them. He wears a royal blue shirt beneath a studded leather chest piece which is in turn covered with a dark brown coat. A battered but obviously well crafted pistol hangs from his left hip beside an old short sword. Finishing the outfit is a pair of fingerless leather gloves and a wide-brimmed hat which is usually pulled down to shield his eyes from the sun.

My name is Raz. I come from Taldor, and I am not fond of talking about my time there. *pause* Would you mind changing the subject?

2. How were you acquainted with Professor Lorrimor?

That old fool? Ha! We traveled together for a brief time, more out of coincidence than friendship. At least at first. He paid me a decent amount to keep pace with him and protect him and a precious artifact he'd found if anything happened. We ended up together for... About six months? Good times, good times. Anyway, we parted ways eventually but some time later the old man tracked me down and asked for my services again. I thought, "what the hell? He pays well and the job's no different to what I usually do, so why not?"

I worked for him on and off for the last five years, either escorting him or one of his other paid cronies when he sends them out to fetch something. It's been good. Damn shame he's dead. Still, maybe he'll have one more payout for me, eh?


3. How would you describe your personality?

I'm a man with simple tastes and a simple mission. Suffer Not Injustice. A simple credo but it's one that helps me sleep at night. Sure, a man's gotta eat and I charge for my services, but honor and justice don't puts shoes on my horses or food in my stomach, do they? Now, some may not like that, but truthfully I could care less. I do what I do, I make what money I can. And let's face it, how many people can say they honestly enjoy their job?

4. Do you buy into the superstitious paradigms of the denizens of Ustalav?

*snorts* Oh, hell no. I mean, I haven't spent much time there, but I've heard stories about the place. I mean, I love helping people but that place, by every account I've heard, is beyond help. I once got told that the people there 'make cynics look playful and cute.'

Yeah, not my ideal vacation destination.