Into The Stolen Lands ~ Say What You Will, I Live Free.

Game Master Ravenica

The late Lord Bramwell - Ingvar Bramwell, that is - was ostensively generous in his lifestyle, and it is said throughout Brevoy that many a man was graced with his gold - except for his son, of course. Ira Bramwell grew up watching his father promote lavish parties and buy expensive and useless things, spending much more than they could afford - despite their vast lands and the many serfs that lived in them. On top of that, Ingvar's indiscretions forced him to live with acid gossip from his peers, who did not refrain to comment on his mother's dishonor. Needless to say, when Ira inherited the estate and the noble title, his grief for the state of his family's finances was much greater than that for the loss of his father.

As there was simply no gold left to provide for his mother and two younger sisters, the first measure was to sell large chunks of land; yet, money seemed to run down the drain even after the passing of Ingvar, and debtors kept coming again and again with quite legitimate bills of collection. His efforts to arrange a good marriage for either of his sisters was largerly frustrated by their deplorable situation, as no suitor dared take part in such economical crisis. Finally, Ira Bramwell took it upon himself to make things rigt, and, afer some research, devised a plan to marry into one of the great families of Brevoy. Tatyana Orlovsky was the chosen one; a fair woman, but past beyond her prime and, nearly 30 winters, too old to marry, some would say. Yet, she bore a prestigious name, and where prestige went, riches followed. Lord Bramwell spent a good year building up his name among the nobility, wooing Tatyana and masking his finances as he raised money for the dowry. Finally, he asked her hand to the Orlovsky family, and in exchange for a hefty sum, was given permission to celebrate the matrimony.

The investment, however, never quite paid off, since Tatyana's branch of the family was not doing that well. Despite all his research, Ira Bramwell had not uncovered an uncomfortable family issue: some of the mos loyal followers of house Rogarvia, these Orlovskys had been at odds with the rest of the house, and not many financial opportunities came their way either. But a commitment had been made, and alas, there was now one more mouth to feed. It could have been worse: at least, Tatyana was a very cunning woman herself, and the couple did get along well, spending hours, days and weeks plotting ways to reclaim their place among the greatest nobles of Brevoy.

It was in one of these schemings that Ira recalled tales about how his grandfather had dabbled in magic decades before; a thoutough visit to the library uncovered his old tome of magic. True, most of the pages were blank, but there was still some material to work with. It as at this time that Ira started studying magic seriously, hoping that it might help his cause. Focusing on enchantments and manipulation through magic seemed like a natural choice; yet, as much as he longed to get some insight about what he should do next, he came to find that in magic, much as in his mundane life, divining the future was a tremendous effort.

Now, finally, all the preparation might have been for something. There is talk of charters of exploration being issued to those brave enough to civilize the Stolen Lands, and, using her influence, Tatyana has managed to secure one of these, just as their last piece of land is threatened by rabid debt collectors. Lord Ira Bramwell has finished preparations for the voyage; in truth, there is not much to be packed, as most of their belongings have already been sold, and there is not even a horse left to ride. With little else beside his spellbook and noble clothes, Ira Bramwell is counting on his arcane knowledge and honeyed tongue to succeed at this new endeavour; if not, he just hopes the crossbow practice from all those hunting games alongside his falcon, Horace, will be of at least a little use.

Full Name : Furnok of Ferd

Race: Human

Classes/Levels : Ranger (Skirmisher)1 (hp favored)

Gender M

Size M

Age 18

Special Abilities :

Alignment: NG

Deity : Eristal

Location River Kingdoms

Languages Common

Occupation : Bounty Hunter

Strength 16 (+3)
Dexterity 14 (+2)
Constitution 14 (+2)
Intelligence 14 (+2)
Wisdom 14 (+2)
Charisma 10
Height: 6'3" Weight: Hair: Black Eyes: Grey
Favored Class: Ranger(hp)
EXP:
Hit Points: 13
Spd: 30
Init: +6
AC: 17 ( 5 armor shield)/Touch 12 /FF15 )
BAB: +1
CMB: +4
CMD: 15
Saves: Fort +5 Ref +4 Will +2

Weapons:
Lucerne Hammer +4 1d12+3 BP Brace,Reach
Longbow +3 1d8/x3 100 ft
Falchion +4 2d4+3 18-20

Skills: (9 level)
Perception (1+2+3+1)7
Survival (1+2+3)6 +1 Tracking
Stealth (1+2+3) 6
Know-Geography (1+2+3) 6
Know-Nature (1+2+3) 6
Know-Dungeneering (1+2+3) 6
Climb (1+3+3) 7
Swim (1+3+3) 7
Ride (1+2+3) 6

Feats:Improved Initiative, Combat Reflexes,
Traits: Pioneer(+1 Perception),Axe to Grind(+1 damage against threatoned foes),Resiliant(+1 fort saves)
Special Abilities: Favored Enemy(Humans) +2 Hit/Damage,Bluff,Knowledge,Perception,Sense Motive,Survival. +1 Tracking,Wild Empathy(+1)
Equipment:
Lucerne Hammer
Logbow
20 Arrows
Falchion
Scale Mail
Backpack
Waterskin
4 days rations
Silk rope
Bedroll
Manacles
Flint&Steel
2 Potions CLW
1 gp 9 sp

Description: Furnok is a rough looking young man who has a small scattering of scars on his tanned features and looks somewhat older than
his 18 years. he keeps his hair in a short mop in order to keep it out of combat and makes sure his weapons and armor are spotless.
Background:Furnok grew up near Restov and had a simple and hard life as a lad whose parents encouraged him to join the militia at
a young age and he took well to the scouts but loved the up-front life of a frontline battler and melded the skills of scout and soldier
together. Instead of joining the army, he decided to become a bounty hunter for a while and see what the world has to offer.

Albína is a cruel and vicious old hag even by Irriseni standards. She is also the head of her household—a position from which she suffers no challenge or insult. When Queen Elvanna's machinations began to lead the country down a course that strayed from the path Baba Yaga had set before them, Zlatomíra's parents balked, expressing concern for the outlook of their family's future. Albína responded by attempting to destroy their family to the last man, woman, or child. She was largely successful. She robbed Zlatomíra of her two sisters, brother, and mother; robbed Dalibor (her father) of his wife and all but one of his children.

Dalibor managed only to flee Whitethrone with Zlatomíra in his care, and the road to safety was not weathered easily. It proved to be not only Albína that sought their blood. Those loyal to Elvanna were called to task, and pursued the father and daughter with ruthless vigor. That they managed to make it out of Irrisen at all stands as a worthwhile testament to the formidable powers at Dalibor's command. Though the agents of Whitethrone caught up to he and his daughter on several occasions, each time he visited wintry ruin upon their advance, repelling each attempt at their lives or capture with a furious display of magic that left them reeling or decimated. This lifestyle continued for months, even as they passed through the Realm of the Mammoth Lords.

Providence did not abandon them entirely, however. The more distance they put between themselves and Irrisen, the less frequent and less worthwhile their pursuers became. Eventually, the brigands and mercenaries hired to track them down were little more than common thugs; a far cry from the terrible winter witches Dalibor had bested on their retreat from Irrisen proper. It was not until Brevoy that the attacks ceased entirely. Whether by way of losing interest or lacking the resources to fund such an endeavor so far from their holdings, Dalibor and Zlatomíra could not say. All they know is that they had found some measure of respite from their crazed aunt and the minions that danced to her tune. East of the Icerime Peaks, where the Nomen Hills meet the Finadar Forest, Dalibor began to eke out a simple life for he and his daughter, bringing her up in the traditions that he himself had been raised.

Several tribes of centaur called the region their home, and their notice of Dalibor's intrusion did not go unnoticed. Nor did their taking offense at said intrusion go unpunished. For several years, the creatures sought to forcefully remove the witch and fledgling witch from their lands, but the aged man proved far too formidable, laying waste to the centaurs' numbers with an ease that unnerved them. Eventually, the attacks desisted and the centaurs began suing for peace. Though far from a friendly agreement, the centaurs at least finally acknowledged the need to stop wasting their ranks on an opponent who bore them no real interest. Dalibor and his daughter would finally be left to their own devices.

Unfortunately, and in spite of his great power, Dalibor proved not to be a match for the wasting illness that spilled out from some unknown source in the Finadar Forest. By this time, Zlatomíra was nearly a grown woman, but still too uninitiated to survive on her own. Were he to pass, the centaurs would no doubt renege on their arrangement and visit unspeakable torments on his daughter in retribution. Mastering what remained of his fragile body, he gathered up his daughter and began the trek westward towards Brevoy. While he disliked the notion of exposing her to such walks of civilization where eyes hired by old grudges might be watching, it was the only option available to him besides condemning her to death alone in the wilderness of Iobaria.

Dalibor did not survive the descent from the mountain passes. Zlatomíra was forced to bury him beneath a cairn in a tranquil glade therein before continuing on her own way to Brevoy. By sheer luck and providence, she managed to finally make her way to Restov, her father's intended destination. Heeding his advice to surround herself with allies and protectors, she was inexorably drawn to the flyers announcing the intent to hire expeditions for stabs into The Stolen Lands. Thinking herself a consummate frontierswoman, Zlatomíra signed her way into one of the charters posted in the Swordlord city. With any luck, she will find enough common ground with fellow expedition members to keep Albína's vengeance at bay—that is, if the old crone hadn't lost interest entirely.

Pale blonde curls curls spill down to Zlatomíra's shoulders, narrow braids framing her anxious face, interwoven with azure bands of ribbon. Her eyes are the color of a clear morning sky, and seem perpetually nervous—shifty and wary of her surroundings, whatever they might be. Pale and snow-kissed skin mark her beginnings as a northerner; likely Ulfen given the color of her hair and eyes. Zlatomíra's frame is scrawny and long. The young woman's full height makes her a rival for most men, and a giant to most women. She is cloaked and garbed in a manner that belies her upbringing in a remote wilderness; patchworks of fur and overly stitched clothing that form a poor mockery of a noblewoman's dress. Despite such a presentation, she manages a haughty look, as full of self-importance as any woman of worthwhile title would be famous for.

Zlatomíra's voice is even and frigid, though the intent behind her words are often lacking in restraint or considered words. A dark raven maintains a nearly permanent perch atop her left shoulder—Bohumil, her familiar. With a drab and monotonous voice (think Alan Rickman) full of derision to match that of the witch he is bonded to, the creature often serves to exacerbate social situations. This is doubly so when the bird's capacity for speech unnerves someone.
__________________________________________________

Ht: 5'11"
Wt: 120 lbs.
Eyes: Vibrant blue
Hair: Pale blonde, long and loose with several braids
Skin: Pale white
Age: 17 years.

WARY: Though her time spent on the run began when she was but a toddler, Zlatomíra's father Dalibor instilled in the young witch a profound fear of her aunt's retribution in every corner. As a result, she tends to be overly cautious and distressed. This paranoia grows in urgency the more crowded her environs.

COUNTRY BUMPKIN: She seems blissfully unaware of this fact, but she wears very plainly the fact that she was effectively raised by a hermit (even a once-affluent one such as Dalibor was). Her clothing and strange dialect coupled with a predilection towards folkish remedies and superstitions (true or otherwise) mark her apart from those persons at home in more civilized areas.

BARBED TONGUE: Many people are graced with the presence of a mental filter between thought and tongue, knowing when to speak one's mind and when to keep quips or harsh remarks to themselves. Zlatomíra is not one of these people. Her opinion is generally an open book, for good or ill.

ARROGANT She has been trained in what she believes (thanks to her father's tutelage) the most superior art and form of magic to be found in the whole of the world: winter witchcraft. Having been raised by a mostly amoral man under such conditions, Dalibor did almost nothing to instill any sense of humility in his daughter. She has a hard time finding herself wrong in most situations, which grates on the nerves of others quickly.

First memories would be a blessing in comparison to those I hold for my father. My father was a sadistic heartless bastard that didn’t know how to treat any living thing like it meant something. He could fake it really well when others were around. Suck them into believing he was a gentle person with a heart of gold. Instead it was a dark heart hiding behind lies. That’s okay, I knew the truth. I lived the truth. You see I thought at the time I was my father’s only child. Now, I am not even sure I am of his blood but that is for later on. Right now it is about my earlier years in his care.
My room consisted of a dirt floor with a fence all around. The top was covered in a mixture of sharp metal and wood to prevent climbing out the top. My companions were six hunting dogs and their mother. They shared my small room with me. I could take ten steps and walk the entire length of it. I could walk six and get its width. We were exposed to the harsh elements that the Irrisian wilderness could throw at us. There was a small house that I could squeeze into that we would pile in together for warmth. It worked during the summer and fall but during winter, I only had myself to keep me warm. I think he wanted me to freeze to death but I always managed to survive. Every day I had to deal with some kind of abuse, whether it was mental or physical. I was only six so it was not hard to break me. I didn’t know how to speak but I could understand body language and I understood what he was saying though not the full meaning behind it. The lack of food was never an issue. I ate what the dogs ate or what ever was available. I will not go into the horrid details of what one has to do to survive.
My father liked to drink and he did so often. One of those times, the last time, he came to the pen ranting about demon spawned creatures and Baba Yaga. I don’t know who that person was but she sounded nicer than him though I take it as she was considered a bad person. He shoved open the door of the pen and was wielding some strange item. He said something about a shaman and killing foul spirits. It didn’t take long before I realized he was talking about me. He thought I was some demonic spawn sent to suck out his soul. He swung it and clubbed my shoulder as I tried to dodge out of the way.
The mother dog started to growl having become attached to me. I could tell, no I could hear her tell him to back off. Recently I had started to truly understand them. What they thought. He swung again and caught me on the back knocking me against t he fence. That is when the mother dog attacked him. The yowls from him and the growling and tearing sound made me turn my head to look and that is when he clubbed her in the head and she dropped. I knew in that instant that she was dead. It hit me hard knowing that she no longer lived. The one that had always comforted me and gave me warmth was now a heap on the ground.
I cracked, and I don’t mean the simple shatter of someone snapping, I mean the complete and total loss of oneself in an emotion that could only be described as a suffering so complete that it would make god weep. I was no longer myself; I was the wild beast that would destroy. Fire exploded around us and my father screamed as I snarled shoving him into the flame with a strength I did not possess. I watched as the flame consumed him and howled my delight to the sky. The fire quickly died leaving the smell of burnt flesh and bone. I looked around and saw that the pen was gone. The other dogs were close to me singed and burned. I leaned down licking their wounds and watched them heal slowly. Once they were healed I headed to the house to eat what I could find dragging it to the floor and sharing it with the few that stayed.
That night I slept where it was warm near a fire that was dying. The next day I headed into the woods to hunt with the rest of them. We would return to sleep at the house and would eat what we could find. I was one of them now, a dog that needed to survive. Slowly as time went by we lost one or two of them to hunting or they simply wondered off. Eventually I moved away from the house looking for another den. I eventually found one deep in the woods and I survived well with the two dogs that stayed with me. I was able to make prey freeze and we could bring them down. I was slowly learning that while I did not have teeth and four legs I had abilities that could make up for it. So we rarely had to go without food of one kind or another for long.
About a year passed and summer came. The summer of change for me, I had evolved from being a human to being a dog. I had my tiny pack and we ate well. Raw meat was delicious and I ate plants from time to time when it suited me. We were hunting a large deer and brought it down. Then they came, wolves, large wolves making us seem like pups. With a snarl they tried chasing us off the kill but I would not give up my kill. Fire danced near the ones that got to close and they became more cautious. My two pack mates ate hurriedly knowing that we needed the meat. My fire didn’t last long but by this time the wolves were just sitting a distance away. I hurriedly pulled at the meat chewing on it as I stared at them. It seemed they were going to let us eat. Strange for wolves to do but then again we were nothing but pups in comparison. A female walked to the male, I knew suddenly he was the Alpha and I could hear them talking through their growls. They were wondering what a human female was doing eating like this. I snapped at them how I talked to my pack, with a growl and a force in my mind.
“Am no human, am better, and am dog.” This made a couple whip their heads and start growling and I hunched my back snarling. The Alpha stepped forward and spoke to me.
“I am Wolf, better than human or dog. Why are you with them?”
I growled and snarled telling my tale to them and they looked at each other and nodded. After we were done eating though they drove us away from the kill.
That winter I lost my pack mates to a bear that decided it wanted my den. I couldn’t heal them. The burned carcass of the bear brought the wolves to investigate and they found me injured. They licked my wounds and fed me as I recovered from my injuries. The Alpha said I would join his pack. They slowly started teaching me about interacting with Human packs and what it was to have a larger pack. I was well cared for and taught to speak the human tongue. They taught me other useful skills that I still use to this day. I became a wolf that could act human. My pack taught me the ways of the forest, of the earth. Alpha, he told me to travel, to learn and to establish my own pack. It was time to leave the pack. The day I left Alpha and his mate revealed they were wolves who could turn into human. Human’s called them druids.
Now she travels, looking for a land to explore, tolerating humans realizing not all are like her father. Now she hears words of someone looking to explore a new land that is wild. This is perfect for her so she is happily looking to join up.

Born in Kyonin and raised on tales of adventure from her father and aunt, Arilyth always knew adventure was in her future. She eagerly trained in swordplay with her sister, tuned her singing skills with her playmates, and picked up some arcane techniques from her adventurer aunt. She slowly blended these styles into what they are now.

Ever eager to get out of "stuffy Kyonin," Arilyth snuck out one late evening about 50 years ago. Still a youth in regards to her people, Arilyth could pass at least for what humans refer to as an "older teen" in regards to her personality and outlook. She slipped through the ancestral forest until she burst out into the town of Greengold. She had never seen so many non-Elves before, and her head spun round and round. It took her some time to come and accept that Greengold was still in Kyonin, but the makeup and feel of it was still radically different than what she had come to know in her home village.

For about two years she lingered there, learning how the world works beyond the borders of the Elf Kingdom. And then she met him. Vadim Lebeda was tall and handsome, his square jaw unlike most male Elves. His hair was woody, his eyes steel blue, and like Arilyth, he sought adventure. The two bonded over tales of various family members: her father and aunt and their quest for ancient elven artifacts across the Inner Sea; his great-grandfather having joined the crusade in Lastwall and singlehandedly defending a town against a ghoul force.

Their adventures together were exhilerating, and ever did the two grow closer. Finally, a letter from Silverhall finally met up with Vadim, and the two went north to Brevoy. His father, apparently some minor noble, had passed, and Vadim must now tend to the families trade with Numeria and Mendev. Though settled, the two were obviously in love with each other, a scandal that the family thought they could not afford.

It took nearly a decade, but the two wedded in a small ceremony. Arilyth thought their time together would last forever.

It did not.

Around her 84th birthday, Vadim fell ill. Despite the clerics assistance, Vadim passed, leaving Arilyth in the care of his family. She languished for nearly two years at his grave, going nearly every day. And slowly, she saw her human family growing old, at least one passing every year it seemed like.

She felt twangs of pain and anger. Her loved ones were leaving her and there was nothing she could do to stop that pain. Except, maybe, leave. Yes, leave, go somewhere new, somewhere far enough that she would rarely if ever see them, yet close enough that her beloved Vadim felt close.

On her 100th birthday, she slipped out like she did all those years ago, and several days later found herself in that ever grand town of Restov. She worked odd jobs and entertained, her arias and fuges becoming known well. But it was never steady work, and she could only ever afford to continue to pay a small rent on a practical tenement flop (a nice one, at least. It rarely got cold or too hot, but never really amounted too much though).

Now, 15 years later, the pain is still present but old. Her days seem almost bright, and that vigor that left her has returned. Maybe she could go on another adventure, like her and Vadim used to do. Yes, an adventure for the ages, in honor of him.

And then she heard the call. Lord Mayor of Restov seems to be looking for folks to go south into the Stolen Lands. What better way of honoring Vadim than an adventure into the unknown?

Josef Orlovsky was born to power and wealth. But being the second son of the third son of the second son didn't leave much expectation for getting to wield much of the family power. The family tried to get him to learn the merchant's arts, but he found little interest in manipulating people. They tried to get him to join the church, a fate typical for those destined not to inherit much of the family's power. Instead, he explored and investigated. He got into trouble. He even picked fights with the servants' children, most of which he lost.

His aunt Mariah recognized something of her father in Josef's behavior. She encouraged him to follow a very nontraditional path for the Orlovsky, but it was the path her father, Mikael, had taken, that of a Swordlord. She wrote a letter of introduction and provided Josef Mikael's original dueling sword, before sending the 12 year-old to a training facility in Restov that Mikael had helped run for a while. Those kinds of connections carry an amazing amount of weight, and so the instructors accepted Josef as a student without questioning his inherent abilities. As his training progressed, they were pleasantly pleased with his native talent.

During his 14th year, Josef began experimenting with girls. He found himself quite fond of them fairly quickly. He eventually made the mistake, as so many young men do, of getting close to the girls closest to him, other students at the Sky Academy. Surah, a young peasant student, managed to take his interest far more than appropriate. He even started thinking about taking a merchant's position within the family, if she would go with him. Since we know he couldn't have followed that path, something must have happened. It was a training accident. Francith, one of the other students, failed to maintain proper control of his blade and accidentally severed the artery under her left arm instead of pulling the shot. As Francith stood there in shock, looking at what he had done, Josef leapt onto the field and drove his sword between the boy's left ribs and out through his right armpit. Surah's death was reported as an accident. Francith's was reported as the result of a matter of honor.

He claimed Surah's scabbard, replacing it with Mikael's scabbard, decorated with gilt and gems, so that her family would have a chance to get something from her death. Her scabbard had a cuirboilli cow-hide interior to protect the blade and a thin, soft, deep maroon-stained kid leather outer skin to make it attractive.

Josef found his life at the Sky Academy much harder after this event. Again, his family name had kept him from the worst possible consequences of his actions, but it did not protect him from all of them. The other students no longer trusted him. He did find that he had a much easier time intimidating his dueling opponents, whether from his school or one of the others. He also discovered that despite his refusal to actually get close to another girl that quite a few were happy to have his attention temporarily. He had gained a reputation for being dangerous, of course.

Since he had already been blooded, Josef was graduated from the Sky Academy in fairly short order. He returned home to find that Mariah had died while he was gone. She had left him book written in her own hand, detailing the stories of Mikael's adventures as a swordlord. That was the most welcoming thing he found at home, though. He had chosen a path of constant open confrontation. One where his name and presence would ATTRACT trouble to whatever family holdings he was near. Only three days after his return home, he was informed that the family would be sending him to represent their interests in the King's efforts to claim wild lands for Brevoy.

The wild, unwanted son of the Orlovskys was being sent to either die or increase the family wealth and power.

---

So, that's 3 recomendations to the GM for the attached Drawback: Mikael's original sword, Surah's scabbard or Mariah's book on Mikael. There are positives and negatives about all 3 choices.

Josef is a very easy man to look upon. His thick blond hair and still youth-scraggly beard are both cut short, as is common amongst combatants in order to prevent providing an enemy with something to grab. His green eyes sparkle from atop his thin nose, that has one strange crook in it. His well-tailored clothes highlight his slender form while not restricting his ability to move. His thick, brown leather jerkin, knobbed with bronze tokens, shows obvious signs that attacks have previously pierced his defenses, but the single wing image engraved over his heart stands unblemished. The wing image is duplicated on the similarly knobbed brown bracers which both protect his forearms and hold the end of his yellow shirt sleeves in place. The left side of his pants are a brown cloth to match the color of his armor. The right side of his pants are a deep maroon, matching the stain on the leather of his boots, gloves, scabbard, belt, pouch and pack. His hat is the same deep maroon, but he has attached a spray of feathers in brown and yellow. His confidence and swagger are far more obvious accouterments than his gear, though.

Init +7 (Dex+5, Reactive+2)

Speed 20' (30' w/o Pack)

BAB+1 Melee+2 Ranged/Finesse+5 CMB+2(+4 w/ dueling sword) (Str+1, Dex+4)
Dueling Sword +4 for 1d8+1 @ 19+, S (Weapon Focus+1, Sword Scion+1)
Shortbow +5 for 1d6 @ x3, 60', P, 20 arrows

Dazzling Display - Full-Round display with dueling sword is an Intimdate (Demoralize) check against all foes within 30' who can see the display. DC10+HD+Wis for each target. Shaken for 1 rd (+1 Rd for each 5 by which DC is exceeded).

HP 11 (1 @ 10 + [1x Con+1])
AC16 w/ load, 17 w/o T13 w/ load, 14 w/o F13 CMD15 w/ load, 16 w/o (17 w/ load, 18 w/o with dueling sword) (Armor+3, Dex+3 w/ load +4w/o, Str+1, Noble Born+1)

Fort +3 (Con+1)
Ref +4 (Dex+4)
Will +0

-1 Will when attached item is threatened or in someone else's possession.
-2 vs Fear when attached item is threatened or in someone else's possession.

2+2 Int+1 Skilled+1 Favored Class (First 5 levels, then 7 & 8 [possibly])
Bonus Skill Attribute+Ranks+Class+Specific(+Conditional)
+6-Acrobatics +4+1+0+1 Noble Born(-3 Load w/ Pack)
+2 Appraise +2+0+0
+3+Bluff +2+1+0(+1 Charming)
+1-Climb +1+0+0(-3 Load w/ Pack)
+2 Craft +2+0+0
+3+Diplomacy +2+1+0(+1 Charming)
+2 Disguise +2+0+0
+4-Escape Artist +4+0+0(-3 Load w/ Pack)
+4-Fly +4+0+0(-3 Load w/ Pack)
+0 Heal +0+0+0
+6 Intimidate +2+1+3
+3 Knowledge (nobility) +2+1+0
+0 Perception +0+0+0
+2 Perform +2+0+0
+4-Ride +4+0+0(-3 Load w/ Pack)
+1 Sense Motive +0+1+0
+4-Stealth +4+0+0(-3 Load w/ Pack)
+0 Survival +0+0+0
+1-Swim +1+0+0(-3 Load w/ Pack)

Feats
Dazzling Display
Exotic Weapon Proficiency (dueling sword)
Weapon Focus (dueling sword)

Traits
Campaign: Noble Born (Orlovsky) - +1 trait on CMD & Acrobatics
Campaign: Sword Scion - Begin play with Aldori Dueling Sword, +1 trait on attacks & CMB with such weapons
Combat: Reactionary - +2 trait on Initiative
Social: Charming - +1 trait on Bluff/Diplomacy on character that is (or could be) attracted to you

Drawback
Attached: -1 Will & -2 vs Fear when object is threatened, in danger or in other's possession

Free Dueling Sword 1d8/19+/S/Finessable/3# (Worn)
Free Explorer's Outifit 8# (Worn)
175 MW Studded Leather Armor +3/+5/-0/15%/30/20# (Worn)
.50 MW Backpack 4# (Worn)
.30 Shortbow 1d6/x3/60'/P/2# (Worn)
..1 20 normal arrows 3# (Worn)
....1 Bedroll 5# (Pack)
..1 Belt Pouch .5# (Worn)
..1 Flint and Steel -# (Pouch)
....2 Mess Kit 1# (Pack)
......1 Soap .5# (Pack)
..2.5 Trail Rations (5 days) 5# (Pack)
..1 Waterskin 4# (Pack)
....5 Poncho 2# (Pack)

262.3.1 58# fully loaded, 36.5# w/o Pack
37 Gold, 6 Silver, 9 Copper on hand

50# = Light -/-0/30'/x4
100# = Medium +3/-3/20'/x4
150# = Heavy +1/-6/20'/x3

.2 12 12 +1
10 16 18 +4
.2 12 12 +1
.5 14 14 +2
.1 11 11 +0
.5 14 14 +2

Human:
+2 Dex
Medium
Normal Speed
Bonus Feat
Skilled
Languages

Fighter (Swordlord Archetype):
D10
+1/+2/+0/+0
Simple & Martial Weapons
All Armor & Shields
Bonus Feats

Tiefling Magus 1
LN Medium humanoid (Native Outsider)
Init +5; Senses Perception +0

DEFENSE

AC 19, touch 15, flat-footed 15 (4+ armor, 4+ dex, 1+ natural armor)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +2
resist lightning 5

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft.
Melee Rapier 4+, damage (1d6/18-20x2)
Ranged Ray of Frost 4+, damage (1d3/19-20x2)
spell like ability darkness 1/1 day
Magus Spells prepared (CL 1st; concentration +6)

1st Shock Shield (dc 15) and Color Spray (dc 15)
0th (at will)—mage hand, detect magic, ray of frost

STATISTICS

Str 10, Dex 18 (16+2), Con 13, Int 18 (16+2), Wis 10, Cha 10 (12-2)
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMD 14
Feat Weapon Finesse
Traits Riverlander, Bruising Intellect and Arcane Temper
Skills Intimidate 8+, Knowledge (arcana, planes) 8+, Spellcraft 8+, Use Magic Device 4+ and Bluff 3+
Languages Common, Draconic, Infernal, Elven and Abyssal
Prehensile Tail replaces fiendish sorcery
spells known Color Spray, Shock Shield, Shield, Shocking Grasp, Unerring Weapon, Vanish and Expeditious Retreat
equipment chain shirt (100 gp), rapier (20 gp), dagger (2 gp), Kit, magi (22 gp), Mask, Battle (50 gp) and 46 gp.
SQ Arcana pool 5/5

When one thinks of elves one thinks of nature, laughter, jilted/legendary romances, heroic rangers and sorceress's with all the right curves in the right places. One does not think of House "Dhargalath" or as they are known in elven legend the "Outcast House". Long before the first chelexian diabolist summoned his first imp the elves were exploring the limits of knowledge, like the chelexians some were of these elves were seduced by the power of the lower planes. Whereas Cheliax focused on Hell the elves being the creatures of chaos they were focused on the Abyss and eventually it corrupted them. it was only six hundred years ago that the elven Winter Council in Kyonin discovered what for the past 1000 years House "Dhargalath" had been up to. In a fortnight a great army was raised by the elves and Kyonin was plunged into a brief but deadly civil war. While outnumbered greatly and with only a few minor houses allied with them House "Dhargalath" despite all of the demonic power at her command was doomed.

Nonetheless they fought on desperately and brought many thousands of their foes down with them, eventually they were pushed out and every last one of them was killed...or so it seemed. House Dhargalath's desperate fighting had been deliberate, they had intended to smuggle out the majority of their House into the nearby River Kingdoms and rule from the shadows in those chaotic lands. Their plan only worked to a small extent, they got a minor, allied House called the Floshin out so that they would ready a river kingdom for House Dhargalath's arrival. House Dhargalath was destroyed before they could flee with their Floshin vassals, meanwhile recognizing that House Dhargalath was doomed House Floshin set itself up as the ruler of a small kingdom (forty miles wide and long) called Evander. Officially and to the outside world's knowledge Evander was ruled by the Jurnath family, a small group of minor nobility from Taldor.

In truth the Floshin's ruled in everything but name, they were content to while away the years as they enjoyed the fruit of their efforts. Evander while small had the best wineries in all the River Kingdoms and naturally it made a decent profit, the Floshin's lived in luxury for over six hundred years. Then Kyonin by some means realized what was going on practically on their doorstep and with an army overran and destroyed Evander. Talbathor Floshin was running family business at the edge of the kingdom when he heard a whisper in his head from a family member, son you must escape, Kyonin is here go. Talbathor is now on the run he has made it to Brevoy and signed on with an adventuring company bound for the Stolen Lands... He does not know if any of his family have survived but he does suspect one thing. While moving through the riverlands he had crested a hilltop and spotted a blur five miles off, as his eyes focused in he saw that the "blur" was a group of three horsemen in gold and green armor which was only worn by the knights of Kyonin.

There are no coincidences and Talbathor knows that he is being followed, when they come he will be ready...

Talbathor is a focused individual who it ultimately loyal to the Floshin family...if any of them still live. He was also perhaps the most eager of the Floshin family's children, he studied and learned the art of the blade and could channel the demonic magics of the Abyss that were his families birthright. He was strange though by the standards of the Floshin family (who number a total of forty indivduals) in that instead of becoming a fighter or sorcerer he chose to mix the two. This colors Talbathor's personality, he is the product of two distinctly "elven" (with a little demonic thrown in) traditions.

Talbathor is also a focused man, he is not one to deviate from a task. He is also highly intelligent and calculating, while not predisposed to dreaming up plots that can take centuries to reach fruition he is capable and learned. Talbathor is the type of man who while he may not excel at scheming could certainly excel as a general, for while intelligent Talbathor's intellect is more predisposed for war and magic then anything else.

You see a tall, slender man who wears a chain shirt composed of black colored links and a red set of red robes over it. On his left hip you see an exquisite rapier in a supple leather scabbard. Your eyes then fix upon his face or more accurately his mask which is made of stone and had two eye holes artistically shaped to show and seemingly magnify what you swear are yellow, bloodshot eyes gleaming at you. A simple, narrow stone slit serves as a mouth piece. The rest of the man's head is occluded by a red hood from his robe which covers his head and seems to fasten into the stone mask...

Talbathor can equally excel in the roles of Spymaster, Marshall, Royal Enforcer, Magister and if the kingdom ever conquers another nation, viceroy. While he can fill the roles of treasurer and Grand Diplomat these are roles that would bore him(Talbathor is far more of a military and magical man then a mathematical or diplomatic person, although if given time to adjust to the role of Spymaster he could adjust to it and become a very active Spymaster).

Name: Bahram Horsethief
Race: Human
Class Druid
Stats:
STR 14
DEX 14
CON 14
INT 12
WIS +2 16
CHA 13
----

Traits:
Pioneer ( Campaign )

You have long lived along the southern border of Brevoy, in the shadow of wilderness known as the Stolen Lands. Life has been hard, but through hunting, trapping, trading, and coaxing crops from the freezing earth, you’ve learned how to survive on the rugged frontier. With the wilderness ever at your door, you’ve also learned much about its denizens and the wild creatures that lurk in that unwholesome land. Your family might even claim holdings in the Stolen Lands, with elders telling stories of being driven from or robbed of a lost ancestral homestead, fertile farmlands, bountiful orchards, or a hidden mining claim. Whether because of your personal expertise and familiarity with the borderlands or in order to reclaim your family’s land, you’ve joined the expedition into the Stolen Lands.

Benefit You begin play with a horse. Also, choose one of the following skills: Climb, Handle Animal, Knowledge (nature), Perception, Ride, Survival, or Swim—you gain a +1 trait bonus on this skill.

Horse Lord

You grew up horse racing along the plains.

Benefit You gain a +2 trait bonus on Handle Animal checks, and a +1 trait bonus on Ride checks. This trait applies only to horses.

Child of Nature

You have been blessed by the God of Nature to be as comfortable in the wilderness as you are at home.

Benefits: You gain a +2 trait bonus on Survival checks to find food and water, and a +1 trait bonus on Knowledge (nature) checks. One of these skills (your choice) is always a class skill for you.

God
( Ashava )http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Ashava

Personality:
i'll get to that in a bit.

Male elf Rogue 1
NG Medium humanoid (elf)
Init +11 (+3 dex, +4 feat, +2 trait, +2 trait; Perception +6
--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (armor +3,Dex +3)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +0

--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Speed 30 ft.
Melee: Short sword + 3 (1d6+3/19-20x2), Elven Curved Blade +??? (1d10+3/18-20x2)
Ranged Shortbow +3 (1d6/x3) rng: 60 ft
Secondary weapons: Daggerx3
--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 16, Dex 16, Con 14, Int12, Wis 10, Cha 10
Base Atk +0; CMB +3 ; CMD 16
Feats: Improved Initiative
Skills: Acrobatics +6, Bluff + 4, Climb +2, Diplomacy +4, Disable Device +9, Intimidate +4, Perception +6, Sense Motive +4, Stealth +6, Use Magic Device +4
Traits: Brigand (campaign) +100 starting wealth, =1 trait bonus to bluff,diplomacy,intimidate,sense motive on Bandity types
Languages: Elven, Common, Dwarven

Combat Gear: Studded Leather, Short sword, Dagger x3, Elven Curved Blade, Short Bow, smoke stick, acid flask

Other Gear: Masterwork Thieves tools, Backpack ,Bedroll, Flint + steel, Belt pouch, trail rations (4 days), Water skin x2, whetstone,
Assets: 48 gp, 9 sp, 8 cp
--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
--------------------
SNEAK ATTACK! - +1d6
Trapfinding

BACKGROUND - He grew up with great parents, a team of adventuring type elves whom specialized in the return of stolen antiquities or lost goods. Their days as specialized trackers slowed when he was born, but from the time he was able to hold a wooden practice blade they trained him long and hard to maintain the family business. His father taught him combat, roughly, and the young elf learned that the best way to not get hit was to hit hard and fast and first. (traits) His mother taught him the art of discovering the things that people placed to guard their valubles, she taught him the art of making deals and being observant.

By the time he was in his 'elven' teens he was traveling with them on missions they deemed simple enough. That ended one day however when a mysterious patron arrived to hire them for something dangerous. He still remembers the night the left, he still remembers the last glimpses of his mother and father, and he still remembers the night he got the letter telling him they had disappeared mysteriously in the River Kingdoms.

He packed up the next week and made his way to Brevoy, using the skills his parents had taught him along the way. In Brevoy, while trying to gather information about his parents disappearance, he began to make a name for himself, when the charter came about establishing some form of civilization in the River Kingdoms he jumped at the chance. Perhaps being there where they went missing would provide a clue, and if not, at least he was helping to make the place more stable and civilized so perhaps no other parents went missing.

Shes also not your run of the mill mini-maxed cleric, I like PCs with more story to tell, more than just a device to lurch form one Fight to the next. Always thinking AC and DMG I find wares a bit thin very Quickly. That's just me as a player, I want to see her grow and see how and where she grows. That's what I seek in a game, more than showing off a new magic toy or ability. Things a PC gets to me, have to mean something to the tail of the PC. I hope you see where I am coming with this. Games I find broken down into Crunch 1st, Fluff 2ed lead play I find it just lack the fun for me. To me kingmaker is a path that needs a PC to grow into a bigger roll. That's why I would like to be in this game, I would love to see her grown in such a game space.

Cap

Birth:

"It’s a daughter" The half-elf birth maid had called, then there was silence.
Something was wrong, o gods not my wife, not my child
he thought and rushed into the birthing room. The scene that greeted him was one of stillness. The maid was looking down at his wife Allnra who was in turn looking down at the baby she held in cloth, face exposed. Elf magic meant his wife was over the pain, she looked well just, in shock, Slowly he walked over, what could it be that held them so”
He stopped when he got to them and looked down, seeing the round oval face of an elf girl child, hair yellow, that was a family trait and her eyes. Now he knew what held them, the child’s eyes, they were, they were ”Gold?” not just eyes that had golden flecks, or a golden hue, no, what looked back at him were two golden orbs.
"An Elsiem tainted, what? Who?"
He looked at his wife; she did not take her eyes of the child.
Not Her it had to be his my side, mine and my mother’s hair, there had been stories of an ancestor before the stone fall, but…
He was conflicted, was this a good thing or bad, what if others looked on this in a bad light, this could affect the family’s holdings, the work they were doing to establish themselves. Then something court his eye, a mark on the child’s breast,
No on my daughter breast
He corrected himself making up his mind. It looked like, so much like, the symbol of Ketephys, it did not matter if it was or not, it had was a stroke of luck. He spoke, breaking the spell in the room.
"By the will of Ketephys , our daughter dear wife is a most wonderful blessing to the family, see here where she has his symbol. Her eyes are those of blessed one, a fair wind blow in the trees this day and with it a child of the hunter came to us"
He smiled with pride and placed one hand on his child’s head the other on his wife’s arm.
The look of still shock left his wife and she smiled, she knew what he had done, what they had to do it.
"Yes dear, Inora go fetch Dasron and tell him to go get the priest of Ketephys, we will have this day recorded "
After the birth made left she looked at her husband.
”Golden eyes Lynraon, and a smile of light, she is wonderful and our blessing.”
He smiled back at her, this is how it had to be, always with the family things had to be made to work in their new home.

Young life:
She had a nurse Kataraon, a human she had been young when she had started as her nurse, but humans aged so much faster. Now she was slow and always comparing of the cold, Amber did not mind it, she never had. On this winter’s night out on the outer branches of the family home tree, she could see down below the horses breading pens. She liked the pens; they smelled of life and wildness, the family made its money by breading fast horses, out from this small wooded land over to the wider plains the horses ran free. She had spent days out there, just riding bear back. She hated to place a saddle of a horse; they told her they hated them.
”You’re going to be late for your classes, you know the priestess hates to be kept waiting, now come along miss”
Kataraon was almost to her.
”here it comes” she thought.
”O gosh not again Amber! Will you please put some boots on, you will catch you death of cold on a winters night like this, silly girl.”
She hated having boots on, in fact she hated having anything on her feet. Footwear just did not feel right and they made her feet sweaty, cramped. But she nodded.
”All go and get my boots before a got to class”
She bent and picked up her Long Spear, but she got more from the nurse.
” Goodness gracious amber why do you carry that thing around the homestead, all the other young elves are leaning to use swords, much more refined for a lady like you dear.”
She shrugged
”I don’t like swords, there to… heavy. …You can’t hunt with a sword”
She gave Kataraon a shrug and a look that said ‘I do my best’.
Kataraon just shuck her head slowly,
”Well I’m just telling you what your father said. Now come along girl, it’s almost time”
They moved off, amber gave one last look out from the tree heights, then into the house true.
She would be coming of age soon and needed to pick her aim in life. The priestess has subjected something to Amber that she had been thinking over for weeks. There was a hidden temple deep in the elfwoods to Ketephys. With her heritage and gifts, the priestess had said she would be welcomed, that she would be given the training in the ways of the faith. It would take years, but that meant little to an elf, even one with higher plane blood. She would tell the priestess today her mind on this, then her mother and father, later the rest of the family and retainers. Soon she would be heading into the Elfwoods and she did not know if she would ever come back.

Cleric of Ketephys.
She stood on the stone, a single stone in a holy glade. All around in the woods was the temple to Ketephys, it had no walls or roof made of stone. The every wood itself was the temple, some way from here was a building but it was an elf long house made of fine wood work. She was naked but for hunting knife belt, her bow and spear. Before her stood three priestess, still like her, they two where armed for hunting. Naked and still, she and they were waiting. Waiting to see if she would be accepted by Ketephys into his priestess ranks, she had been a novice for so long. The longest they had known. Twice she had stood here, just as she did now waiting all day on the spring crescent moon for the sign. Others she had strained with had been chosen, now they were off into the world fully ordained. But she had stood and nothing. So much for a birthmark she thought to herself. It was getting late and it would not be long now, a third time would be a disaster, there would be no forth. For she would be asked to leave, sent home with a simple, not found to have what was needed. All this time wasted, she had worked hard, harder than most, to show she had what was sort. Skill with a bow, able to use the magic’s gifts of Ketephys, She worked hard and it was all down to this day and this moment. She closes her eyes, Well mother, father I did what I thought I was meant to do, by the signs and my blood. Just was not meant to be. She let the dream die in her.
Then a sound, a thud, she opened her eyes and looked where the three judgment priestesses where looking. To where a great stag stood, He’s head high. He’s front leg pondering the earth.
His voice came.
”When you have quit finished feeling sorry for yourself child of the woods, we can begin”
She smiled is his joking tone, she had been picked, chosen and accepted.
”The feast thing you need to know is, that you must always resect that which you hunt, for it has life to and taking it is an act of warship that must be done right. I hunt is not about fear; it is about where things sit in the great weave of life. That is way today you will lean what it is to be hunted. So that when you are one of my priestesses you will never forget what it means to hunt others.”
She looked at her hands they changed, she fell on all fours, she bellowed, she was…
One of the three priestesses said to her,
”You will run now, seek to hide, seek to flee, seek to keep away from us hunters little one for if we catch you, we will kill you.”
Fear gripped her, pour terror and she ran, no she bolted and behind she could hear the hunting calls of the priestesses. That night she leaned, the next day, once more herself, she accepted the spear that marked her faith.

Home:
They were happy, they sang, they had a party they drank, they told stories. Her Mother was most proud. On the second week she came to Amber and sat with her.
”So what now, will you go back into the woods sweetheart or seek as home and family of your own? You know young Kallrooss likes you and now you’re adult a priestesses as well. You would make a find coupling. “
She looked at her mother.
”I know he dos and he’s sweet, but… after being at the temple for so long. I missed the rides, the ...”
”I know dear, you have always had a free spirit, from when you were a child. Before Kataraon passed away, she left you this, I was going to give you it later but I think now is the right time”
She held out a silver object, looking at it she could see it was a holy symbol of Ketephys.
”She said you would know what it means.”
She felt a pang of guilt talking about Kataraon, she had been at the temple when the news had come of her death, age they said. She had cried for a week, and said the words to the dead. But she still felt a pain in her heart for the loss. She took the holy symbol from her mother’s hand. The fact that Kataraon has got it for her, as a gift for her coming back, meant a lot. It meant she had accepted what amber was doing, and that she expected her to do well.
Her mother have her a moment, then said softly.
There is an inscription on the back, I can’t read it but Kataraon said to me once you would know what it means. Amber turned over the symbol. On the back it simply read in fine Celestial.
”Amber, Go where your Heart takes you and put your boots on”
She burst out laughing, then stopped, she looked down at her bare feet, and smiled
Wise old Kataraon”
Once sentence summing up her life, she looked up, her mother was looking at here in a concerted way.
”Is everything all right dear?”
She let out a breath.
”Yes mum everything is fine, I best tell you know, I’m not staying and I’m not going back to the temple”
”Where are you going then?”
She looked up at the sky.
”Where my heart and Ketephys send me mother, Where my heart and Ketephys send me”

She had packed that night, the next they her father came, they talked and at the end he nodded. It was the way of elfs, freedom meant things like this. It was respected; o she could always come back. They would still be here, but it was the Elven way. They gave her a mount, one of the family’s best from that year’s crop and some coin. She had taken a hunting dog from the temple pack with her as well. Once packed she simply waved and headed out where she would end up she did not know. But she had faith and that for now was all she needed.

NOTES:

In ancient times, the land encompassing much of the River Kingdoms was a type of hunting reserve for the elves of Kyonin, known as Telvurin

[url=http://pathfinder.wikia.com/wiki/Kyonin][/url]

Cordelon is a small, independent country on the Sellen River in the southern River Kingdoms. Its centers of population are the village of Bacul Gruii and the larger Novoboro. Once long ago, Cordelon was a staging area for the return of the elves of Kyonin from their self-imposed exile in Sovyrian. Some of them stayed behind and eventually began intermarrying with the local human population. Although the large majority of the people living in Cordelon now can be considered human, strong elven traits and features can be seen in most of them. The locals distrust outsiders, but welcome elves.

Sex - Female
Height 6'4"
Wright - 68lb
Build: Unusually Tall and slender
Hair: Long and Golden yellow
Eyes: Gold Orbs
Skin: Amber/golden in tone
Legs: Extra long

What looks to be a first glance an Elf maid, Closer inspection is in fact a Very tall and slender Aasimar of Elf descent . She moves with grace and has a kind face; her cloths tend to yellow and deep greens. Her skin is like fine gold silk cloth, her arms and legs long and slender, her feet are bare. But the one thing that may make you think Aasimar is this Elf-maids eyes, They are Orbs of gold, that reflect and glint back light. She rides a fine elf bred horse and has what looks to be a dark hunting dog with her. For arms, she carries a long cold Iron spear, fine looking Elf Long bow and hunting knife. Her Armour seems light and well made, some kind of elf armoured coat. She is well spoken and if you ask she will tell you she is a Cleric Priestess of Ketephys the Elfish god of hunting.
The Silver holy Symbol she carries show this to be true.

In personality, she is happy go lucky, yet at time grim, She likes to hunt and seems to be happy with others or alone. She makes friends with ease and when needed will help others. All in all a good elf from the woods

In this case, the Goblin statement for this would 'POW', as in fist striking eye. Alternately 'WHUMP', as in breaking limb over head.