Samnell's Gestalt, Mythic Wrath of the Righteous (Inactive)

Game Master Samnell

Baru is a dark blue skinned Tiefling. He has been mistaken for a Drow, with the exception of his prehensile tail. In rare occasions where running is required, Baru has been know to forego his bipedal stance, crouch forward and use his arms and hands in an animalistic motion.

Despite his outward appearance, Baru remains light hearted, friendly, and helpful. Often quick to dish out sarcasm, often targeting himself.

Baru is a tiefling fugitive from the Worldwound. His personality and ideals did not match those shared by Deskari and his minions. Forcing Baru to hide in the shawdows, and adopt a rogueish lifestyle growing up. These learned skills were often augmented by his innate understanding of magic, particularly with teleportation magic. When not hiding and operating from the shadows, Baru tries to fuel his curiosity for knowledge. Weather magic, spells, languages, acrobatics, combat, ect.; Baru is constantly learning and can surprise anyone with understanding of various subjects and skills.

Around 2 decades ago, Baru witnessed a couple Riftwardens entering the Worldwound. Meeting them with a friendly curiosity, instead of an expected hostility, the Riftwardens "branded" him with an arcane mark explained as the Sign of the Seeker’s Spiral. Finding that Baru's heart was one of good and not evil, the Riftwardens offered him a escape from the Worldwound. They equipment him with some journal pages, citing names of people in the town of Kenabres that would aid and protect him, not only from his evil kin from this plane, but also from persecution of the townsfolk in Kenabres. Armed with this he ventured out of the Worldwound and headed to Kenabres.

After contacting a couple of the other members of the Riftwardens marked in the journal pages and proving being "vouged" for with the mysterious mark, he has proved valuable to the crusade, sharing his knowledge of the Worldwound, the magic found there, and nature of creatures that inhabit it. A sort of adviser to the crusade, he is rewarded with opportunities to fuel his curiosity with wonders, magic, and understanding of the world he now calls home (Golarion).

If called to action by the crusades, Baru would whole heartedly offer his services, skills, and magic to aid in defense of Golarion.

A huge, imposing figure covered in armor from head to foot, he carries a polished shield bearing a black rose. He speaks in a deep, chilling voice that sends shivers up the spine of even the boldest knights, yet when he sings his voice smooths out into a surprisingly deep, rich baritone.
Beneath the armor:
Height: 6'7"
Weight: 245#
Eyes: Red
Skin: Black
Hair: None
Once he takes off the helmet, you see a horrific black-scaled monster. Gleaming white fangs, small horns, glowing red eyes and pointed, serrated ears make him seem almost a full demon.

His mother Kale caused the cracking of the Kenabres Wardstone.

At least, that is the way she tells it. Before the first attacks, she was merely one of a squad of soldiers assigned to routine duty in the city. With nothing much to do most of them spent a lot of time in the local tavern, which is where she met Arvoris. A fairly good-looking young blacksmith come to trade from a neighboring village, she started spending a lot of time with him. He asked her endless questions about her and the exciting life of a soldier, and she enjoyed the attention.

Until the attack began.

With the cracking of the Wardstone, Demons began the assault , a screaming horde ready to claim all Golarian as their own. The crusaders fought bravely but were barely holding the line. After a disastrous battle on the front where she had seen almost her whole squad killed, she and a ragged group retreated back through the city. She rushed to find her lover. When she told him he had to flee, he laughed.

And then he changed.

He was not a simple craftsman but an advance scout for the Demonic Horde. And she had provided so much valuable information! Tears in her eyes, she could not believe it. She had used her Sight on him, seen no sign of evil! He grinned and raised an amulet with strange markings on it, taunting her. She rushed him with sword raised, but he teleported away, his laughter still ringing in her ears. She changed after that. Before, she had been a devotee of Shelyn, finding beauty in everything and a firm believer that anyone could find redemption. Now, she rushed into battle and fiercely attacked the enemy with no regard for her own life. Slowly, they managed to turn the tide and reclaim the city. The Wardstone held and she joined the new crusade to push the demons further back.

Until she discovered she was pregnant.

She knew once the child was born everyone would know of her shame and betrayal, so she fled. She settled in Ustalav, kept to herself and raised the demon-child for the rest of her life. She poured all her bitterness, rage, and hate for all demons into her son and trained him to kill as soon as he could hold a sword. But she also had the wisdom to try to make him understand that he was not to blame for what he was. Through his actions, he could overcome the stain of sin left on him by both his father and herself. He took to wearing full armor as often as he could, so as to hide his horrific visage. He still rarely removes it except when alone.

But it was not all lessons about demons and training. His fondest memories are of the times when, after a long day his mother would sing to him. She had a voice that would make the goddess Shelyn herself stop and listen! She would also sometimes talk about the family she left behind, her brother Kal who as far as she knew was still fighting in Kenabres.

Last year, he returned from a trip to pick up the weapon he would need in his fight to find her dead, with a skeletal grey-skinned demon standing over her. The fiend dropped something on her body and vanished before he was able to reach them. He vowed then to destroy all demons, and to find out why she had been singled out for such misery. He still holds the strange amulet dropped by the demon, but he has not yet found someone who can tell him the meaning of the runes carved into it.

Now he has arrived in Kenabres, biding his time training in a crusader camp outside the city, ready to kill his Father and any other demon that gets in his way...

Awakening with the dawn, Xantrius sits up in his small tent on the outskirts of the city and starts polishing his armor. After awkwardly donning it in the small confines he exits and stirs up the embers of yesterday’s fire to cook his breakfast. He returns to his tent to eat and then puts his helm back on and checks his weapons before strapping them on. Taking one last look at the strange symbols on the amulet around his neck, he starts for the city. Nodding to the other recruits he recognizes as he leaves the large field camp stationed on the northern edge of Kenabres, he strides with purpose towards the library.

After waiting patiently for close to an hour while the guards at the gate check everyone entering the city, he recognizes the guard on duty and hails him. ”Good Morn, Roderick.” he calls out, his harsh, grating voice unnerving several others waiting to enter.

”Good Morn, Xantrius! Are you planning on joining in the festivities for Armasse tomorrow?”

”I shall be here, but I shall not have any duties. There is not much call for those who follow the Lady of Graves on this day.” he states, tapping his shield with its prominent depiction of Pharasma’s black rose.

The guard looks at him oddly. ”I still find that strange. I didn’t think there were any paladins who followed her?”

”There are a few who see their duty to escort those deserving into her embrace. But I will not keep these good folks waiting any longer. Good Day.” With a final salute he enters and heads towards the Old City. His long stride quickly takes him along the twisting roads to his destination, the same place he has come almost every day for the past couple of weeks.

As he stoops to enter the entrance to the Library, the clerk at the desk sighs. ”He’s still not in.”

Xantrius is silent for a moment. ”And I doubt you have any idea when he will be available. May I view the volumes of Maxtarus’ Demonic Lore?”

”If you must. Be careful!” As the huge knight strides away the clerk mutters ”I don’t know why they even let brutes like him in…”

ISANDRIL VELAHRN
Male Azata-Blooded (Musetouched) Aasimar Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade) 1/Magus 1 [Gestalt 1]
CG Medium Humanoid Outsider (Elf, Native)
Init +4; Senses Darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +5
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DEFENSE
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AC 15, touch 13, flat-footed 12. . (+2 armor, +3 Dex)
hp 11 (1d10+1)
Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +3
Defensive Abilities Celestial Resistance, Dodging Panache; Resist Acid 5, cold 5, electricity 5
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OFFENSE
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Spd 30 ft.
Melee Cold iron rapier +5 (1d6+3/18-20/x2) or
. . Dagger +2 (1d4+1/19-20/x2) or
. . Unarmed strike +2 (1d3+1/20/x2/nonlethal)
Ranged Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20/x2/10 ft.)
Special Attacks Opportune Parry and Riposte, Spell Combat
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SPELLCASTING
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Magus Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +5)
1st - color spray (DC 14), shield
0 (at will) - acid splash, detect magic, prestidigitation
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +4)
1/day - glitterdust (DC 14)
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STATISTICS
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Str 12, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 14
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 15
Feats Fencing Grace, Weapon Finesse*, Weapon Focus (Rapier)
Traits Arcane Temper, Armor Expert, Stolen Fury
Drawbacks Pride
Skills (Trained) Acrobatics +7, Diplomacy +8, Knowledge (Arcana) +7, Knowledge (Nobility) +7, Perception +5, Sense Motive +5, Spellcraft +7, Stealth +4; Modifiers Skilled
Skills (Untrained) Appraise +3, Bluff +2, Climb +1, Craft +3, Disguise +2, Escape Artist +3, Fly +3, Heal +1, Intimidate +2, Perform +4, Ride +3, Survival +1, Swim +1
Languages Celestial, Draconic, Elven, Taldane
SQ Arcane Pool (4 points, +1), Deeds (Derring-Do, Dodging Panache, Opportune Parry and Riposte), Inspired Finesse, Inspired Panache (5 points), Scion of Elvenkind
Combat Gear Cold iron rapier, dagger, studded leather, spell component pouch; Other Gear Traveler's outfit, masterwork backpack (18.5 lbs: bedroll, elven trail rations x4, everburning torch, ink (black), inkpen, mess kit, soap, spellbook, waterskin), belt pouch (0 lbs: flint and steel), belt pouch (0.94 lbs: money), scroll case (0 lbs: parchment x4), spring loaded wrist sheath (1 lb: dagger), spring loaded wrist sheath (1 lb: dagger); Magic Items None
Money 0 platinum pieces, 31 gold pieces, 7 silver pieces, 9 copper pieces; Other Wealth None
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RACIAL TRAITS
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Celestial Resistance Gain acid resistance 5, cold resistance 5, and electricity resistance 5
Darkvision (Ex) See in the dark, black and white vision only
Scion of Elvenkind Count as outsider (native) and humanoid (elf) for effects related to race including feat prerequisites and spells that affect humanoids, pass for elf without using Disguise, replaces Celestial language and alters native subtype
Skilled +2 racial bonus on Diplomacy and Perform checks
Spell-Like Ability (Sp) Use glitterdust 1/day as spell-like ability at caster level equal to class level
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CLASS FEATURES
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Arcane Pool (Su) Gain arcane pool with points equal to 1/2 magus level (minimum 1) + INT modifier, expend 1 point to grant any held weapon a +1 enhancement bonus for 1 minute
Derring-Do (Ex) Expend 1 panache point when making an Acrobatics, Climb, Escape Artist, Fly, Ride, or Swim check to add 1d6 to the check, add another 1d6 each time a natural 6 is rolled up to a number of times equal to DEX modifier (minimum 1)
Dodging Panache (Ex) Expend 1 panache point as immediate action when opponent attempts melee attack to move 5 ft. and gain dodge bonus to AC equal to CHA modifier (minimum 0) against the triggering attack, does not count as 5-ft. step and provokes AoOs but not from the one that triggered the deed
Inspired Finesse (Ex) Gain Weapon Finesse with rapier and count as having the Weapon Finesse feat for the purpose of meeting feat prerequisites, gain Weapon Focus (Rapier) as bonus feat
Inspired Panache (Ex) Gain panache points equal to INT modifier (minimum 1) and CHA modifier (minimum 1), expend points to accomplish deeds and regain points by scoring critical hits with rapier
Opportune Parry and Riposte (ex) Expend 1 panache point and an AoO when opponent attempts melee attack to make attack roll (-2 for each size category the attacker is larger than the swashbuckler) and negate incoming attack (automatic miss) if swashbuckler's result is greater than opponent's, if parry successful and at least 1 panache point still remains make attack against opponent (if within reach) as immediate action
Spell Combat (Ex) Use a weapon with one hand at -2 and cast a spell with the other
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Arcane Temper +1 trait bonus on concentration and Initiative checks
Armor Expert Reduce armor check penalty by 1, to a minimum of 0
Pride When threatened, accused or challenged gain –2 penalty on Diplomacy and Sense Motive checks involving relevant creature until apologized to
Stolen Fury +2 trait bonus on CMB vs. demons
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SPELLBOOK
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0 - acid splash, arcane mark, dancing lights, daze (DC 13), detect magic, disrupt undead, flare (DC 13), ghost sound (DC 13), light, mage hand, open/close, prestidigitation, ray of frost, read magic, spark
1st - blend, chill touch (DC 14), color spray (DC 14), magic missile, shield, shocking grasp

Isandril stands five feet and ten inches tall, slender and athletic, and moves with the grace that is characteristic of his people. Handsome with fair skin and silvery gold hair that reaches down to his shoulders, his eyes are nevertheless his most prominent feature and a mark of the celestial blood coursing through his veins; although not unheard of among members of House Velahrn, they are certainly rare even for one of his race, for they are a vibrant violet color with what can best be described as golden flecks speckled through them. He has a preference for comfortable fitted clothing of good craftsmanship and elven design, more often than not complemented with a hooded cloak fastened in place with an ornate brooch of silver and jade, and he is almost never seen without his elven rapier made of cold iron, resting in its scabbard next to his left hip, or his pouch of spell components, hanging from his belt by his right. Other than that, he usually also keeps three daggers on his person, divided between the small of his back and his pair of spring-loaded wrist sheaths, while his armor of choice is a suit of studded leather of fine elven make.

Proud of his heritage, both elven and celestial, Isandril -or Sand to his friends- is adventurous and even prone to wanderlust, eager to see new sights, meet new people and seek out new challenges that will serve to test and improve his skill with blade and spell. Friendly and sociable and possessed of a sharp wit that shows itself more often than not, he is quick to joke and laugh and enjoys the company of good friends and –why not?- equally good wine, preferably elven. Despite his generally amiable demeanor however, he does foster an intense animosity towards demons and their minions, be they mortal or otherwise, and will readily join the fight against them whenever the opportunity presents itself. Even so, he is not one to let anger blind him and cloud his judgment in a fight, keeping himself calm and controlled even in the midst of battle and even when the foes are demonic in nature.

Born to Calendil and Ellisara more than a century ago in the city of Greengold, the second largest settlement in Kyonin, Isandril is a scion of House Velarhn, a noble family of the elven homeland. He is also one of those few elves of his House to manifest celestial traits, for although celestial blood, however little, courses through the veins of more or less all of its members, it is relatively rarely that it results in the birth of a true elven aasimar.

A clan of warriors and mages, they were and still are noted for their active role in the fight against the demons that have called Tanglebriar their domain since the time Treerazer was banished there. Often enough, Velahrn elves travel to the southern part of Kyonin and lend their skills to the defense of their homeland against any demonic creatures that may feel bold enough to try and exit the swamps. More than simply guarding that area, on occasion the elves would form small scouting parties and venture into the swamps, usually for reconnaissance, although the occasional clash with some of that accursed place’s denizens does occur now and then.

One of those elves was Isandril, once he was old enough and far along enough in his training. Eager as he was to put his skills to proper use, the young elf still was not prepared for the first time he would lay eyes on a demon, much less when he had to face one in battle. Still, he came out of it relatively unharmed, thanks in no small part to his more battle-hardened comrades-in-arms, and the experience helped prepare him for the next time and the one after that. For there was no lack of abyss spawn in Tanglebriar. Still, his skill and, truth be told, his luck would carry him only so far.

On one such foray into Tanglebriar Isandril’s group found themselves facing a formidable number of demonic foes. Not only that, but they seemed to have knowledge of the elves’ tactics and itinerary, for it was more an ambush and less a chance encounter. Isandril suspected foul play, that a traitor existed among his elven comrades-in-arms, but there was no time to think on it further as the demons fell upon them. They fought bravely but they were both outnumbered and outmatched. Far as he could tell before falling to a spell, the others were falling one by one to the fiends’ claws and weapons, though he did make out one of his friends, a ranger by the name of Telanna, manage to escape unseen by their assailants.

The next few days passed by in a blur. From what he could tell, he was taken away from the site of the battle and the next time his mind was clear enough, he found himself surrounded by hooded men and women, not demons but mortals. The cultists, for that is what he surmised that they were, would keep him sedated for several more days while they prepared him with potions and spells for some sort of ritual. He suspected that he alone was allowed to live from among his friends and comrades-in-arms because of his celestial blood. Still, he did not know for sure, just as he did not find out the specifics of the cultists’ plan for him thankfully.

Although the day of the ritual did come and the leader of the hooded men and women did reach the point where, knife in hand, he was about to plunge it in Isandril’s chest, that is where the ordeal came to an end. For Telanna had indeed managed to escape and go back to her people, whom, after being informed of what had happened, put together a rescue party, led by none other than Isandril’s father. It took them some time and it was not without casualties, but they managed to locate him and finally come to his rescue. The cultists scattered, though more than a fair share were killed by blade or spell. Their leader, however, was not, as he managed to spirit himself away either by magic of his own or by some magical item on his person. Regardless, Isandril still had his life and his soul by the end of the fighting, fighting he participated in as soon as someone cut his bonds and handed him a sword. He felt relieved and quite happy to be alive indeed, but he also felt changed, though how exactly he could not tell.

It was that feeling of change, as well as the occasional nightmares that accompanied it, that fueled his actions the next few years. On the one hand he trained, trying to improve his skill with both blade and spell, if for no other reason than to not fall prey again. And on the other hand he researched, trying to find out more about the cultists and the ritual. Eventually he came to the conclusion that he had to leave Kyonin, continue his search elsewhere. As he traveled, he did find out a few things about it all, such as that the cultists worshipped Baphomet and that neither was that the first time nor was Kyonin the only place such a ritual had taken place. Other than that though, he found out little else. Still, it was something and eventually his search for answers brought him to Kenabres.

First and foremost, Isandril’s goal is to get to the bottom of what happened to him, what was its purpose and who or what is behind it all. And along with that, he knows the leader of the cultists who kept him prisoner managed to escape and would very much like to settle things with him or her once and for all.

Other than that, even if priority has been given to the aforementioned search for answers, he suspects there was treachery involved and would very much like to find out who it was that betrayed him and the others in his squad; despite not wanting to admit to himself that an elf and what is more one of his comrades-in-arms and even friends was a traitor, the demons that fell upon them were too prepared and knew too much about their tactics and scouting schedule for it to have been a mere coincidence.