Rise of the Runelords by DM KLS (Inactive)

Game Master KyleS

Defense
AC 13, touch 11, flat-footed 12 (+2 armor, +1 Dex)
hp 8 (1d8)
Fort -1, Ref +3, Will +4

Offense
Speed 30 ft.
Melee dagger +2 (1d4+2/19-20) or
   rapier +2 (1d6+2/18-20)
Ranged light crossbow +1 (1d8/19-20)

Statistics
Str 14, Dex 12, Con 8, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 14
Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 13
Feats Tool Optimizer
Traits deadeye, scholar of the ancients
Skills Acrobatics +5, Disable Device +6, Knowledge (arcana) +8, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +7 (+8 while underground, +9 to navigate underground), Knowledge (geography) +7, Knowledge (history) +8, Knowledge (local) +7, Linguistics +7, Perception +6 (+8 on sight based checks), Survival +2 (+3 while underground, +4 to avoid becoming lost); Racial Modifiers +1 Knowledge (dungeoneering), cavewight
Languages Common, Draconic, Giant, Goblin, Orc, Thassilonian, Varisian
SQ deed: daring, deed: opportunist evasion, deed: sleuth's initiative, dusksight, inspiration (3/day), intuitive monster lore, orc blood, sleuth's luck, trapfinding +1
Gear leather armor, dagger, light crossbow with 20 bolts, rapier, backpack (bedroll, grappling bolt, mess kit, silk rope (50 ft.), soap, trail rations (5), waterskin), bandolier, belt pouch (chalk (5), charcoal (5), compass, fishhook, flint and steel, twine (50')), 4 gp, 3 cp

Tracked Resources
Crossbow bolts - 0/20
Dagger - 0/1
Inspiration (+1d6, 3/day) (Ex) - 0/3
Luck Pool (2/day) - 0/2
Trail rations - 0/5

Special Abilities
Cavewight +1 Knowledge (dungeoneering) and Survival checks while underground.
Darkvision (90 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white only).
Deed: Daring (Ex) Spend 1 luck to add 1d6 to Acrobatics, Climb, Escape Artist, Fly, Ride, Swim check.
Deed: Opportunist Evasion (Ex) Spend 1 luck to take no damage after successful Reflex save.
Deed: Sleuth's Initiative (Ex) While have luck, can use a free hand to draw ligt/1-hand melee weap as part of the initiative check.
Dusksight Ranged attacks vs. foes with concealment, roll miss chance twice (choose best).
Inspiration (+1d6, 3/day) (Ex) Use 1 point, +1d6 to trained skill or ability check. Use 2 points, to add to attack or save.
Intuitive Monster Lore +2 (Ex) Add Wis mod to knowledge checks to ID foes.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail.
Orc Blood Half-orcs count as both humans and orcs for any effect related to race.
Sleuth's Luck At 1st level, a sleuth gains a fluctuating pool of luck, measuring her ability to get out of scrapes. At the start of each day, a sleuth has a number of luck points equal to her Charisma modifier (minimum 1). Her luck goes up or down throughout the d
Tool Optimizer Improvised tools give no penalty.
Trapfinding +1 Gain a bonus to find or disable traps, including magical ones.

Appearance and Personality
Thin and wiry, Grozha's most startling feature is probably the scar that runs from the center of her forehead, down across her right cheek. In the midst of that scar lies the empty hole where her right eye once resided. She does not bother wearing a patch to hide the reminder of that battle.

Still, the most outrageous markings of his Abyssal heritage came as he entered puberty. Whatever was stopping the most dangerous changes of the blood from enacting themselves ceased and Temerith was wracked with a constant, terrible pain. Horn stubs quickly grew and matured into full-fledged horns, and a prehensile tail grew and matured over the course of a month. Finally, the two most painful and longest transformations to force themselves upon Temerith was the breaking and reformation of his legs to be backwards bending, and the growth of fine, armored scales. The dual curses rending him bedridden for more than a year. During this time his parents did everything they could to ‘cure’ their child, contacting Clerics of every pure faith in the city. When they were told there was nothing to be done they sent for another cleric to be told the same thing, quickly using up what little savings they had.

Eventually they ran out of both coin and clerics to consult on the matter, leaving Temerith to deal with the changes in his own, and leaving him with a desire to find a way to pay back the gold that they had spent trying to ‘fix’ him. However, no one could accuse Temerith of being a criminal mastermind as a teenager. His first idea was to rob the alchemist’s shop in the town, surely there would be good things for him to pawn there. Two things happened when he tried to rob the store; the first was that he learned that he enjoyed explosions, the second was that knocking over some of the potions cause explosions. Explosions that woke up half of the town. It didn’t take a great detective to put together what happened, and he was quickly arrested for the attempted robbery and destruction of property.

This led to some of the more firebrand members of the town calling for his banishment, and in the more extreme cases death. After all they claimed that he tried to blow up a building, what was next? Others worried about him influencing the others already arrested. In the end it was decided that while he was too dangerous to be left in a cell death was too grievous a sentence, so banishment was designated as his punishment. Temerith’s family bade him farewell with a mix of disgust, pity, and understanding for what he had done and why he had done so.

In the years after his banishment he took on the name Temerith to try and distance himself from the banishment, and to make sure that his name didn’t bring any more shame back to his family. While he wandered he took what jobs as he could as an alchemist’s apprentice, learning to create the reactions he had created on accident and to master them. No matter where he went he sent the majority of the coin earned anonymously back to his family. Years turned into decades and he began properly grasping the art of alchemy. Potions were now a simpler matter to him and he had learned the most rudimentary bombs. Once he had this knowledge he returned to his old crimes, using his knowledge of alchemy and his dexterity to break into places in a vain attempt to repay a perceived debt. This went on for several years, and while he never had contact with his family again he hoped the money was at least making a difference.

Temerith’s career as an alchemist thief ended rather abruptly when he had the misfortune to cross paths with a Paladin of Sarenrae. She gave him a rather simple ultimatum, lay down his weapons and speak with her or be dragged in front of a less balanced judge than her. He wasn’t a suicidal fool, so he did as she asked and laid his arms down. The pair sat and talked for hours, until the sun began to come up once more. He spoke of why he was doing what he did, where most of the coin went, and things of that nature. For her end she spoke of Sarenrae, and the fact that she was a path of redemption. While he had initially agreed to speak to save his hide he found himself increasingly convinced by the Paladin’s words until she asked him to accompany her to the temple, to learn, and to redeem himself. Temerith accepted the offer.

Over the next few years Temerith spent his time at the temple, learning more about Sarenrae and found himself agreeing with her virtues. It took time for him to figure out how he could turn what he already knew into more practical applications for the church. Brewing potions for the sick and weary, and using his bombs to dispatch those who were preying on the faithful but wouldn’t be turned like he was. As his final step towards redemption, Temerith was sent to investigate the rather vague rumors in Sandpoint that here could be rampaging dragons or armies of giants.

When in battle he is quick to discard both robe and mask if able to, wearing leather armor underneath. It is here that everyone can see the marks of the Abyss and other fiends. Temerith’s legs are bent backwards like an animal’s, his ‘skin’ are small armored red scales, and he has a long prehensile tail that moves behind him to aid his balance.

She hefted her shield over one shoulder, the symbol of Iomedae displayed prominently. Her sword she kept obscured by her cloak, the symbol displayed there often caused consternation among those who might notice it.

Some brief questions about the docks led her to the Rusty Dragon Inn where she rented a room. She had worn her armour into town to advertise her skills, but now opted for a simpler outfit more conducive to chatting with the locals.

Her first order of business was to learn more about the town and the people in important positions, particularly regarding the glass works. Unfortunately she found that the main topic of conversation the locals were interested in talking about was the upcoming festival. After several attempts Aviel was resigned to the fact that any actual business she might want to conduct would have to wait until after the festival. On a positive note though, it was likely that important individuals would be making their rounds with speeches and dedications which would make it easier for her become more familiar with who she might want to talk to.

As there was nothing more she could do until the festival was over Aviel toured the town getting to know its layout and residences a little more and stopped by the local sheriff's office to see if there were any outstanding rewards or bounties that she might be able to assist with in order to become a little more recognized.

Also Deviran wanted the stables cleaned and her away as quickly as possible since her presence tended to spook the stabled horses. It wasn't so bad most of the time, she could just work in the stalls at the other end of the building, but during festival time the stables were usually full.

When she was done Deviran thanked her for the work and paid her before sending her off. She was free for the rest of the day! Her father was in town as well to attend the festival. This was the first festival in a long time he was able to enjoy. Ever since she had found that broken ring last year and sold it for more money than she had ever seen before things had gotten better at the farm. Better enough that this might be the year that she finally had the chance to strike out on her own.

She was nervous and excited at the thought, but that didn't matter right now, she had heard that there were at least two gnomes in town and she was eager to find them. Gnomes had the best hats!

His early apprenticeship to her would last through his coming of age rites, Itoya was one of the elders who helped to choose Yahoel’s ceremonial tattoos from among the Shundar-Quah’s totems. She chose the storm roc, saying that he should endeavor to always keep his eyes on the wider picture, to never become mired in the details and personal squabbles of any one clan or group. She encouraged him to learn what he could from all the clans and anyone he encountered; whether it be the archery of the Lyrune-Quah, the oral histories of the Skoan-Quah or the reverence of all animal life from the Shriikirri-Quah. Itoya would be more mother to him than his own mother ever truly was. Between the ages of ten and sixteen he was with her almost constantly, traveling between the clans to listen in on disputes. He worked to emulate her and live up to her expectations. At sixteen she pronounced him no longer an apprentice, but a druid in his own right. She would pass away two years later. It was the passing of that motherly figure more than anything else that would lead Yahoel to seek out that missing connection he had never truly indulged before, that of his elven blood.

The Mierani Forest was home to several clans of elves and at first, he was met with some suspicion. While his lack of kowtowing did not earn him fast friends, blunt honesty and demonstrations of druidic magic earned him some respect among the elves. His obvious respect of the natural life in the forest quickly earned him a spot among the hunters and protectors of the forest. For several years Yahoel learned about that side of him that had never really been explained. He was taught how to craft a bow in the elven tradition, spending a year making one for himself. Over time he gained a name for himself as a fierce protector of the forest. When poachers over-hunted, Yahoel was one of the first volunteers to seek them out and bring them to justice. And elven justice for poaching was death in Mierani Forest, a sentence that Yahoel did not shy from carrying out when it was necessary. Still, while he did not hesitate to take life when necessary it began to wear on him over time. After seeking the counsel of several druids, he decided that to balance out some of the death he would seek to protect life in another way.

So, it was that after living among the elves for three years he left them to head back to the Storval Plateu where the Shoanti still lived for years. Eventually he found a fledgling storm roc that had been abandoned by his mother, for reasons that he never knew. Almost instantly he felt a kinship with the creature. Over the course of several weeks he gained his trust and helped it learn to hunt and fly to the best of his ability. But when he sought to release it on its own, he refused to be separated from him. And in truth he was grateful. It had been a long time since he’d had a true companion. He named the bird Toya, after the mentor that had been his first and most beloved friend. And along with Toya in tow, Yahoel sought to explore more of the land that he loved so dearly. To see and experience more, to learn and always keep his eyes and mind open as Itoya had said he must.

STR 16
DEX 12
CON 15
INT 10
WIS 16
CHA 8

Feats
1 Heavy Armor Proficiency

Skills (2)
Sense Motive
Heal

Traits
1 Giantslayer (+1 att/dmg vs giant subtype, +1 Bluff, Perception & Sense Motive)
2 Resilient (+1 Fortitude saves)

Spells
Per Day: (0) 3 (1) 2+1
Prepared
0: Guidance, Light, Detect Magic
1: Bless, Shield of Faith, Protection from Evil

Favored Class Bonus: +1 HP

Special
PROTECTION (DEFENSE) DOMAIN
Granted Power: Receive a +1 resistance bonus on saving throws. This bonus increases by 1 for every 5 levels you possess.
Deflection Aura (Su): Once each day, you can emit a 20-foot aura for a number of rounds equal to your cleric level. Allies within the aura gain a +2 deflection bonus to AC and combat maneuver defense.
Spells: Shield (1) Barkskin (2)
GOOD ( ) DOMAIN
Touch of Good (Sp): You can touch a creature as a standard action, granting a sacred bonus on attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws equal to half your cleric level (minimum 1) for 1 round. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Spells: Protection from Evil (1) Align Weapon (Good only)(2)
CHANNEL ENERGY
Channeling energy causes a burst that affects all creatures of one type (either undead or living) in a 30-foot radius centered on the cleric. The amount of damage dealt or healed is equal to 1d6 points of damage plus 1d6 points of damage for every two cleric levels beyond 1st (2d6 at 3rd, 3d6 at 5th, and so on). Creatures that take damage from channeled energy receive a Will save to halve the damage. The DC of this save is equal to 10 + 1/2 the cleric’s level + the cleric’s Charisma modifier. Creatures healed by channel energy cannot exceed their maximum hit point total—all excess healing is lost. A cleric may channel energy a number of times per day equal to 3 + her Charisma modifier. This is a standard action that does not provoke an attack of opportunity. A cleric can choose whether or not to include herself in this effect.
AURA
A cleric of a chaotic, evil, good, or lawful deity has a particularly powerful aura corresponding to the deity’s alignment (see detect evil for details).
SPONTANEOUS CASTING
A good cleric (or a neutral cleric of a good deity) can channel stored spell energy into healing spells that she did not prepare ahead of time. The cleric can “lose” any prepared spell that is not an orison or domain spell in order to cast any cure spell of the same spell level or lower (a cure spell is any spell with “cure” in its name).

Gear (48gp)
Warhammer (5lb)
Javelin (x5)(10lb)
Dagger (1lb)
Scale mail (30lbs)
Heavy Wooden Shield (with Holy Symbol)(10lb)
Cleric’s Kit (32lb)(This includes a backpack, a bedroll, a belt pouch, candles (10), a cheap holy text, a flint and steel, an iron pot, a mess kit, rope, soap, a spell component pouch, torches (10), trail rations (5 days), a waterskin, and a wooden holy symbol.)

Total: 88 lb.

CARRYING CAPACITY
STR16 | LIGHT 76 lbs. or less | MEDIUM 77–153 lbs. | HEAVY 154–230 lbs.

Now she’s simply Austeja, an aspirant champion of Trudd, driven forth by a simple vow: to make Varisia a safer place by vanquishing the giant and goblinoid scourge. Knowing she’s nowhere near experienced enough to take on the giant threat, she travels the coast of Varisia in the hopes of finding a worthwhile cause to dedicate her hammer to. Perhaps one day she'll be experienced and skilled enough to deal with the giant menace.

The dream of performing deeds that will make the Dwarven Gods proud push her on to tomorrow, but underneath her calloused hands and thick muscles, Austeja is a soul adrift. And secretly, she’s well aware of this.

Word has reached her that Sandpoint is facing goblinoid troubles and as such, she has made this town, famous for its glass, her destination.

Austeja carries with her a physical reminder of the day she lost her ancestral home: second degree burn wounds have scarred her upper back. A dozen other scars, most of them inflicted through training and some others the result of being an active outdoors type, litter her entire body. The most noticeable is a jagged slash of discolored skin along her neck, the result of falling out of a tree.

The woman tends to dress in sober earthy tones. From autumn brown to ashen grey, her dresses and tunics tend to be more practical than decorative. Having lost more of her wealth in the destruction of her home, she wears but one plain silver bracelet around her right wrist. It rings with Trudd’s roaring appreciation when she strikes a mighty blow with her hammer.

Outside of her current mood and psyche, the dwarfess has the resolve her people are known for and such determination that Trudd has deemed her worthy of his divine blessing. She’s prone to losing herself in whatever she’s currently passionate or occupied with, merrily conversing and working together with those involved in her project, but being dismissive and unaware of those who aren’t.

Hailing from a tiny mining village to the north of Sandpoint, Austeja can be labeled as outright socially awkward and clumsy. Her village’s typical straight-forwardness and honesty is something she has found to be incompatible with the world at large and so, she’s trying to find the middle of the road. Unsuccessfully, so far.

Coming from a life where all she cared for was taken away from her, she’s quite defensive to those who are in the process of taking away something from her – whether in the physical sense or in the social sense, i.e. when being the target of a joke or mockery – and has a tendency to stand up for those who are being targeted by others in such a manner. What her winning smile can’t fix, her muscles just might.

Trudd is a deity almost entirely worshiped by dwarves. He is the youngest son of the primary dwarven deity, Torag. Despite his relatively young age, Trudd is the strongest deity in the dwarven pantheon, and as a result is often left to guard his father's halls while Torag is absent. For a dwarf, Trudd sports a remarkably short beard, spawning many tales, including one that he sold it for some unknown boon.

Alignment NG
Areas of Concern Bravery, defense, strength
Domains Good, Nobility, Protection, Strength
Subdomains Agathion, Competition, Defense, Martyr, Resolve
Favored Weapon Warhammer
Symbol Rune-carved stone throne
Sacred Animal(s) Bear
Sacred Color(s) Brown, gray

Backpack
Bedroll
Belt pouch
Candle x10
Chalk x10
Explorer’s outfit
Flint and steel
Ink, black
Inkpen
Mess kit
Pot
Soap
Spell component pouch
Torch x10
Trail rations x5
Waterskin

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Special Abilities
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Empathic Link with Familiar (Su) You have an empathic link with your Arcane Familiar.
Evil Eye -2 (8 rounds, DC 15) (Su) Foe in 30 ft takes penalty to your choice of AC, attacks, saves, ability or skill checks (Will part).
Familiar Bonus: +3 to Stealth checks You gain the Alertness feat while your familiar is within arm's reach.
Healing (1d8+1) (Su) Heal touched creature, but each target can only benefit once per 24 hrs.
Thrill-Seeker Gain 5ft movement speed first round of combat, and begin play with three star candle fireworks
Share Spells with Familiar Can cast spells with a target of "You" on the familiar with a range of touch.
Ward +2 (1 at a time) (Su) Ward another, granting +2 to AC and saves until hit or fail a save.
Witch's Familiar (Ex) Gain the services of a special familiar that stores spells.

Kera was born eighteen summers past, in the back of a rolling cart near the tail end of the caravan. Her mother Arya is niece to the famed Niska Mvashti, whose daughter Koya herself served as midwife at the birth. At that time, Koya was still a young woman, and watched over Kera from time to time as the little girl grew. Koya must have sensed the power that Kera possessed, for she would bring her to Sandpoint from time to time to visit with Kera’s great aunt, the Madame herself. Kera always enjoyed these visits, and never questioned the way that Niska would worry over her palms and teeth, as though she found something peculiar or vexing about these things. To Kera, her hands looked like any others, albeit a bit small on account of her being a child. Still, Niska and Koya were always kind to her, and she grew to love them, their large, rambling manor house, and Sandpoint itself. And while the desire of the older women to remain in one place perplexed her, she was able to enjoy the best of both worlds, traveling with her parents and the caravan through the warmer months, and spending the cold months with her aunts near the ocean.

Kera spent her days tending to the house and exploring the town. She grew quite fond of the Turandarok Academy’s book collection and, though headmaster Gandethus had a reputation for being a strict schoolmaster, appreciated the rogue’s girl natural curiosity, and so sometimes lent to her a book on Varisian folklore, history, and even languages. Once or twice she would even find an arcane scripture tucked into the books, though Ilsoari always feigned ignorance.

Sometimes she would stand outside the playhouse, peering through its grand doors and listen to Cyrdrak embellish upon the details of that evening’s plays. Once she even bartered for a ticket, agreeing to help stitch together costumes for an upcoming community production of The Goat Herder’s Daughter. To this day it remains a highlight of her time in Sandpoint.

One day, while dancing through the refuse of Junker’s Edge in search of treasure (making sure that Garvi was away at the Rusty Dragon, of course), Kera happened upon a lonely kitten. Pitch black as coal, with one eye gray, one eye blue. The kitten at first tried to run away, but she scooped her up, suffering her claws and howls, and ran straight home to present her to her aunts. Niska and Koya ooohed and aaaahed over the creature, giving each other meaningful stares. They offered the kitten a bowl of goat’s milk, and as Kera sat petting and speaking with her newfound playmate, her aunts carried on a whispered conversation in the next room. Once the kitten calmed down, she became quite timid, and Kera named her Thimble. The two became fast friends.

Not long after, Kera’s powers began to appear. At first it was little things--flowers would sing to her, or tell her jokes. Her own shadow would play tricks on her, and sometimes they would chase each other through the house. Her aunts merely chuckled, and told her she was a white witch. Kera had known that some men and women of her tribe carried that title, but just as often it was used as a term of derision against them. [i]”Wear’t with pride, m’dear,”[/b] Niska had told her, ”Desna’s blessed ya with her kiss.”

Kera has spent most of this year traveling with her parents on the caravan through the Sanos Forest, and it has been nearly six months since she has seen her aunts. She returns now, this time on her own, to attend the Swallowtail Festival and visit with Niska, Koya, and her friends in town.

Personality
Kera is good-natured, optimistic, and a bit naive. She has not seen the horrors of the world and believes that people are fundamentally good, though she is loyal to those she loves and would do her best to protect her family and friends. She has tried to maintain good relations with the townsfolk of Sandpoint, calling many of them friends and even managing to be tolerated by the ill-tempered ones like Garvi. Her cat Thimble is perhaps her best companion, never slinking far from her heels.

Appearance
Of modest stature, Kera’s most prominent feature is her hair. Its jet-black curls tumble down in unkempt ringlets nearly to her waist, spilling out in all directions at once. She is thin of frame and smiles easily, her hazel eyes glowing with mischief. Sometimes she wears a flower in her hair, though just as often it becomes lost. She dresses in simple garments--loose fitting pants or a simple skirt, and often wears delicate bracelets of braided dandelions or herbs on her wrists and ankles.

He didn't really understand, but then he didn't understand a lot of things. It especially confused him when the monks--he had learned that's what the men were called--made him start whipping himself. He understood being punished, but punishing himself was strange and pointless.

The one thing he understood was fighting. He won almost every fight, but then he had to whip himself for winning. It made no sense; everybody at the monastery fought each other, but only he got in trouble for it.

Until he found a dagger lying in the street one day. It started bleeding when he touched it, and Churm suddenly saw a vision of a huge man in dark, spiked armor strolling over a battlefield. Somehow, Churm knew that he had killed all those men, and the huge man in the dark, spiked armor was pleased. And that pleased Churm.

The visions continued, but the whippings stopped when Churm ran away from the monks. He had never thought of getting paid to fight, but he was such a natural that it found him right away.

Mashiki was smiling and watching the people go about their business getting ready for the festival as she headed to the Rusty Dragon. Just before she got to the inn, a stranger suddenly strode up to her "You, lass. What order to do you belong to?

Mashiki stopped, her smile fading into confusion as she glanced around to see if there was anyone else that they might be talking to before responding "Are you talking to us?"

It was the stranger's turn to look confused "I'm talking to you. What order do you belong to?"

Mashiki's brow furrowed "We don't understand what you mean."

The stranger sighed in exasperation "Your group, organization, your order. Is it philosophical or religion based."

Mashiki's face lit up "Oh! We've been to the church a couple of times! Its really nice.

The stranger rubbed the bridge of their nose and waved at her dismissively. "Look, what forms or styles do you practice."

Mashiki looked confused again. "Well..." she fidgeted a bit. She still wasn't comfortable talking about it, but Madam Mavishti had told her that it wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. "We can flick acid at things if that's what you mean. We can clean things, and fix them. Oh! and we can make glowing lights dance around! Mashiki lowers her voice conspiratorially and whispers " And we just learned that if we concentrate really hard, we can jolt things with sparks when we touch them." Mashiki smiles brightly again. "We learned we could do that when we remembered dreams about the deep places."

The stranger looked at her oddly. "Aren't you a monk? You look like a monk. You have simple clothes and a staff, no spellbook or component pouch that would mark you as a wizard."

Mashiki tilted her head "This isn't a staff, its our broom. We were just cleaning the stables. We don't remember anything about ever being a monk, even when we have other thoughts. Maveshti says we are a sorcerer."

The stranger looked a little sheepish as they muttered "Oh, well uh sorry to bother you, I seem to have mistaken you for someone else." and then slipped away in the bustle of people walking by.

"Well, that was interesting" Mashiki thought. "We certainly like festival day, all sorts of weird things happen when the town fills with strangers!"