Saga of the Taighean Dubha - a Reign of Winter PbP (Inactive)

Game Master Mark Sweetman

Female gnome cleric of Gozreh

15 pt stat buy
Str 10
Dex 10
Con 12
Int 12
Wis 16
Cha 13

Skills
knowlege religion
know nature
spellcraft
heal

Traits
Northern Ancestry
Animal Friend

Feat
Animal Affinity

Domains
Animal
Water

Her story
Willow grew up deep within the Border Woods, learning the faith and
woodcraft of her parents and their parents before them. A curious
young lass, Willow was usually to be found outside of their burrow
style home, exploring the nearby areas and attempting to make friends
with every little creature that she found. She particulary exasperated
her parents by always bringing home some sick or injured animal that
she would find and insist upon nursing back to health.

Willow would have been quite happy to have stayed living deep within
the woods, except for the recent incursion of strange and vicous wovles
to the area. After Willow and her parents returned home after a trip
to Heldren, they found their meager livestock slaughted, their home dug
into and large paw prints all around their little home and barn. Too
afraid to stay, her parents gathered up what little could be salvaged
and made the trip back to Heldren with the intent to reluctantly resettle
there.

Rather unhappy with living in the town, even one as small as Haldren,
Willow is constantly making trips back into the edge of the woods.
Being a young adult now, she is considering leving her parents and
spending some time adventuring on her own.

AC: 12 (10 + 2 Dex)
Touch: 12 (10 + 2 Dex)
Flat-footed: 10 (10)

Hit Points: 9/9

Fort: +2 Ref: +4 Will: +0

Str 16(+3) Dex 14(+2) Con 12(+1) Int 12(+1) Wis 7 (-2) Cha 14(+2)

Melee
Greataxe: +3 to Hit; Dmg 1d12+4; crit 20/x3; Type S

Benefit: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Fortitude saves, as well as cold resistance 2; this resistance does not stack with cold resistance gained from any other source.

Frostborn (Regional):
Long nights in the frigid winters of the north have inured you to cold.

Benefit: You gain a +4 trait bonus on any savings throws made to resist the effects of cold environments, as well as a +1 trait bonus on all saving throws against cold effects.

Bardic Performance:
A bard is trained to use the Perform skill to create magical effects on those around him, including himself if desired. He can use this ability for a number of rounds per day equal to 4 + his Charisma modifier. At each level after 1st a bard can use bardic performance for 2 additional rounds per day. Each round, the bard can produce any one of the types of bardic performance that he has mastered, as indicated by his level.

Starting a bardic performance is a standard action, but it can be maintained each round as a free action. Changing a bardic performance from one effect to another requires the bard to stop the previous performance and start a new one as a standard action. A bardic performance cannot be disrupted, but it ends immediately if the bard is killed, paralyzed, stunned, knocked unconscious, or otherwise prevented from taking a free action to maintain it each round. A bard cannot have more than one bardic performance in effect at one time.

Countersong (Su): At 1st level, a bard learns to counter magic effects that depend on sound (but not spells that have verbal components.) Each round of the countersong he makes a Perform (keyboard, percussion, wind, string, or sing) skill check. Any creature within 30 feet of the bard (including the bard himself) that is affected by a sonic or language-dependent magical attack may use the bard's Perform check result in place of its saving throw if, after the saving throw is rolled, the Perform check result proves to be higher. If a creature within range of the countersong is already under the effect of a non-instantaneous sonic or language-dependent magical attack, it gains another saving throw against the effect each round it hears the countersong, but it must use the bard's Perform skill check result for the save. Countersong does not work on effects that don't allow saves. Countersong relies on audible components.

Distraction (Su): At 1st level, a bard can use his performance to counter magic effects that depend on sight. Each round of the Distraction, he makes a Perform (act, comedy, dance, or oratory) skill check. Any creature within 30 feet of the bard (including the bard himself) that is affected by an illusion (pattern) or illusion (figment) magical attack may use the bard’s Perform check result in place of its saving throw if, after the saving throw is rolled, the Perform check result proves to be higher. If a creature within range of the Distraction is already under the effect of a non-instantaneous illusion (pattern) or illusion (figment) magical attack, it gains another saving throw against the effect each round it sees the Distraction, but it must use the bard’s Perform check result for the save. Distraction does not work on effects that don’t allow saves. Distraction relies on visual components.

Inspiring Blow (Su): A savage skald roars his war-cries with each telling blow. When he confirms a critical hit, he can start this performance as an immediate action (ending any other performances). He gains temporary hit points equal to his Charisma modifier (if positive), and all allies within 30 feet gain a +1 morale bonus on their next attack roll prior to the start of his next turn. These temporary hit points remain until the bard ends his performance.

This performance replaces fascinate.

Inspire Courage (Su): A 1st level bard can use his performance to inspire courage in his allies (including himself), bolstering them against fear and improving their combat abilities. To be affected, an ally must be able to perceive the bard’s performance. An affected ally receives a +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects and a +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls. At 5th level, and every six bard levels thereafter, this bonus increases by +1, to a maximum of +4 at 17th level. Inspire courage is a mind-affecting ability. inspire courage can use audible or visual components. The bard must choose which component to use when starting his performance.

1st (0/2 used): Cure Light Wounds, Expeditious Retreat

My Arena Of The Gods, the LotR Homebrew, Jehova's Arena and the Iron In The Snow PbPs are going to be my focuses for a while.

See you later everyone!

another idea i'd like to run with is the bladebound archtype, if you'd allow me to make it a bit more theme appropriate. It states it's always a one handed slashing weapon, rapier or sword cane. Anyway with a bit of refluffing it could be something like a Battle/Handaxe?

I'm thinking this is a bit of a family heirloom and is infused with some sort of Ancestral and or Linnorm magic, with it's own goals to challenge the witches of Irrisien , and has laid in wait until someone worthy wields it.

any thoughts?

The Ulfen girl rushed through the woods frantically, tears streaming down her fair face. She wasn’t sure what to do with the screaming babe she held, but she knew she didn’t want anything to do with it. The abomination, the shame, the monster. . .
The monster that had her eyes.
She kept running, crying, hoping that no one had followed, and finally came to a glen. Secluded and serene, she figured this would be the perfect place to abandon the babe and feel no shame. She placed the infant on the ground, and sent a prayer to Torag. As she went to leave, she cast a final glance at the child. It had stopped crying when it saw her, and she saw deep back into the childs eyes. Her eyes. The eyes she’d never forget. She spun quickly and never looked back. . .

-

Shortly thereafter, a Witch of the Moon (Gealaí Maor) found the baby on a hike to gather herbs. She decided that the baby, being half-orc half-ulfen, would make for an excellent warden, and decided to raise the child on her own in the woods.

The child quickly grew, and quickly learned the lessons, and the importance of protecting his ward. He learned hunting, fishing, and herbology from the witch. More importantly he learned combat, and was trained to hear the whispers of the moon. But before he mastered anything, his time with his Matron Mother was cut short. One afternoon, after a successful hunt, he returned home to find Gealaí cold, and still like the ice growing outside. He tried to shake her, to wake her, to no avail. This was when he left home. To the cities and towns Mhamó told him so much about in his youth.

Half-orc witchguard/Ranger build. Two handed weapon ranger wielding a bastard sword, and a bow. There isn’t any conceivable reason for me to have a breastplate at lvl1, being of the ilk I am, so he wears scale mail for now.

Open to ideas, unwavering when it comes to his ward, and ignorant of customs. (doesn't really understand why people see him differently) Chaotic good,

If 15 point:

Str : 16
Dex : 12
Con: 12
Int: 10
Wis: 14
Cha: 11

Gist of the character is...
Female sylph Witch(Winter-witch)
8
16
12
16
10
12

Feat: Extra Hex
Hexes: Fortune/Misfortune, Cackle
Skills: Spellcraft, Use Magic Device, Knowledge:Arcana, Heal, Profession: mid-wife.

What provided inspiration for the character is the mixing of Ulfan and Tian cultures via the Path of Aganhei and this Yuki-onna, particularly the story where the man marries the yuki-onna, only to have her melt away when he breaks his promise. I wondered, what about the children? And, this character came to be. Other sources of inspiration include Pople of the North, Lands of the Linnorn Kings, Jade Regent, Winter's Reign, and my desire to make a witch that rocks the combat casbah.

Very general background, to be refined if approval or comment is given.

Always did the northern lights call to Hamall. For hours he would watch the witch-lights dance, and vow that one day he would journey to them. Alone among his father's sons, he forsook the sea and traveled to Kalsgard and found a place among the guilds that specialized in travel across the Crown of the World.

While scouting ahead one day, a sudden blizzard overtook the caravan, and Hamall and his companion became lost. In the howling wind, he thought he saw a beautiful girl standing over the body of his friend, and when she came for him, he knew that death had come, for no man can outrun the frozen spirits of the north. And so he knelt, and waited. He would not attempt to cheat fate, but would look it in the face and die beneath his beloved lights.

And so she came, and she was beautiful and cold as the crown on which she stood, and the witch-lights danced her eyes. "I had meant for you to join your friend, but will not hurt you because you do not fear me. And because you think my lights are beautiful, I will spare your life. Tell no one what happened here, or death will surely come."

Soon the storm passed, and Hamall was able to rejoin the caravan. There were mutters, but many a man had died in a storm, with friend and fire only feet away, and so the incident was forgotten.

On the journey home, the caravan came upon a wagon, abandoned and buried in the snow. Looking for goods to plunder, the guides found the owners of the wagon, frozen beneath their blankets. Only a girl survived, with raven's hair and skin like the midday snow. Some said to leave her, but Hamall cared for her and claimed Yuki as his own.

In time the two came to live in Unaimo, at the base of the High Ice. For though Hammal loved the lights, no man can live where they do. For once winter comes, the Crown is forbidden to all but spirits and the dead.

Life was good, for no man knew the Crown like Hammal and Yuki bore him many children. Then one night, as the children were asleep, and Hammal and Yuki watched the lights dancing in the sky, Hammal told his wife the story for his first crossing, and of the woman that he saw. At once he felt his wife begin to shake, and as the tears rolled down her face, she spoke her last to him, "Oh did I not tell you, that should you tell anyone death would come!" And the tears grew bigger and bigger, and she melted away.

The next day Hammal sold everything he owned, and took his children south. He would answer no questions and would not look at the crown he once claimed as his own. At Kalsgard, he bought passage and prepared to continue south, but as the ship exited the bay, it turn to the north, and Hammal once again saw the lights of his wife's eyes dancing in the sky. A word to the captain and the ship turned about. The family returned to shore and Hammal visited his brother's hall.

His return was met by jeers. Who was this man to return after all these years. Erik took up his father's sword. Hammal would redeem his honor with blood, and with it buy a place for his children. But Hammal would not raise his own. "My battle-sweat is frozen. My suffering is not yet passed." And as his brother's sword swept down, to the side it turned. Twice more the stroke fell, and twice more it turned aside. "You are cursed! For your blood cannot be taken, nor will you take another's. Be gone then, until your debt is paid and your blood is mine to claim."

And so Hammal and his children left the house of Erik, and bought space near the jade-quarter and lost themselves in that space between worlds, where a child's oddities might be explained as being from the 'other' that lived nearby. For all Tian are strange and their powers difficult to comprehend, and all Ulfen are savage and swim through snow like otters.

As Norðrljós grew older, she began to feel the draw of the lights for which she was named, and wonder at things like fate and destiny. And so she learned of Pharasma, who the Tians call the Mother of Souls and the Ulfen the Lady of Graves.

And so her youth was spent at the threshold of this world, sometimes helping to open and other times closing it gently. Learning, as she did, to feel the strands of fate and to see the cycle in the turning of the seasons.

Eventually her thoughts were drawn to the east to the endless winter of the lands beyond. For here the seasons did not shift, and the cycle was stuck, like a wagon wheel that would not turn. The more she learned the more it occupied her thoughts, and the more she came to dwell upon the endless winter.

In time the obsession became too great, and she told her father that she must go, for winter was calling. When Hammal heard this, he simply nodded. "This is your doom. Follow it and prosper. Break it and sorrow."
*edit. Okay I got a bit distracted there. This is a lot longer than intended.

4) Norðrljós is very stoic. People are born and die, and each life is, on the whole, insignificant. However, each soul is very important in the great cycle. To Pharasma, a soul's deeds or station does not matter. Whether beggar or king, each enters and leaves the the same: naked and alone. And each deserves the same consideration. Her servant takes the same view. To some, this comes off as cold or disrespectful, usually those in the prime of their lives far from either of her doorways. However, to those near birth or death, whether their own or someone they love, she is a kind voice that is never too busy. Like her mother, and the psychopomps that serve her goddess, Norðrljós can be persuaded or enticed by things that interest her, though not enough to violate proprieties. Falling snow, particularly with a wind to swirl it brings out a childish delight in her.

5) Positive:
Grave holds no mystery. All men must die, and when they do they will be judged by one neither capricious nor rule-bound. Extensive experience with, and meditation on, the nature of life and death has given her a calm acceptance the inevitable.

Scales are balanced. As Pharasma judges all souls equally, so does Norðrljós judge the living. Each creature is judged on it's own merits. Though this doesn't require her to ignore facts, like Jadwiga are hostile to outsider Ulfen, it does that she can judge a creature on its own merits.

Negative:
Who are you the proud lord said? In a land where honor is life and fame the only true currency, Norðrljós just doesn't get it, or care to. To her, these things are inconsequential amusements, like making snow-angels or dancing through moon-beams.

True-oath Due to the nature of her parents relationship, Norðrljós finds it difficult, agonizing really, to break a promise or oath. Technicalities don't matter in this regard. If she promised, then the intent must be fulfilled.

All is vanity
With such a focus on death, dooms, and inevitability. It is easy for her to become despondent and listless. Why act when all will come to nothing. Why care when all die and are separated?

6) Norðrljós mostly looks like a mixture of Ulfen and Tian, which is mostly what she is. Obsidian-black hair, snow-white skin, angled blue eyes, thin but tall. Dress tends to either be for aesthetics, when about her own business, or function, when acting as mid-wife or body-tender, as the cold doesn't bother her much.

Her comportment is generally that of one pre-occupied, but with enough time for whatever you need. Whatever I/we/you are/were doing, it isn't that important. The benefits and drawbacks of this are largely similar to her attitude towards many things. If you're used to being ignored, its great. If you're used to being the center of attention, it's puzzling, aggravating, or infuriating depending on how you take it.

7) Norðrljós carries an ivory flute from her parents. Her father bought the tusk and carved the rough shape, while her mother tuned it. It was given to her when she expressed frustration at not being able to make her little girl voice make the wind sounds mother's voice made.

8) Traits are Spirit-guide, Confidante to the Oppressed, and Child of the Temple. Yes, I know I can only have two, but I can't decide which two quite yet.

9/10)

To the mother, the girls of houses give praise!
To the hunter, the runner of trails gives praise!
To the north star, the autumn leaf gives praise!
To the hammer, the blood-worm lord gives praise!
To the lord in iron, the feeder of ravens gives praise!
To the hammer, the blood-worm lord gives praise!
To the north star, the autumn leaf gives praise!
To the hunter, the runner of trails gives praise!
To the lady, the sons of heroes give praise!