Secrets, Shadows, and Whispers [A Carrion Crown Campaign]

Game Master Kana

Arabeth
Female Garuda-Blooded Aasimar (Plumekith) Oracle 1
NG Medium outsider (native)
Hero Points 1
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +2
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Defense
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AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+2 Dex)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +3
Resist oracle's curses (tongues [celestial])
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft., fly 20 ft. (poor)
Melee aldori dueling sword +2 (1d8+2/19-20)
Oracle Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4):
1st (4/day)—shield of faith, cure light wounds, cure light wounds
0 (at will)—stabilize, detect magic, create water, light
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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 13, Cha 17
Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats Additional Traits
Traits chosen child, heirloom weapon (proficiency), on the payroll, rich parents, sacred conduit, wary
Skills Acrobatics +4, Diplomacy +4 (+2 vs. all creatures of different religion or alignment than you), Disguise +5, Fly +4, Handle Animal +7, Heal +5, Perception +2, Perform (string instruments) +4, Ride +3, Sense Motive +2 (+0 vs. all creatures of different religion or alignment than you), Stealth +3; Racial Modifiers +2 Acrobatics, +2 Fly
Languages Auran, Celestial, Common, Elven, Sylvan, Varisian
SQ exalted resistance, hero points, mysteries (life), provincial, revelations (life link [1 bonds, 110']), variant channeling (luck variant channeling [±1 sacred])
Other Gear Dueling sword, 130 GP
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Special Abilities
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Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Exalted Resistance (6) You have spell resistance 6 vs evil spells, or any spell cast by evil outsiders.
Flight (20 feet, Poor) You can fly!
Hero Points (1) Hero Points can be spent at any time to grant a variety of bonuses.
Life Link (1 bonds, 110') (Su) Bond drains your HP to heal others.
Luck Variant Channeling (±1 Sacred) Bonus to one roll/penalty on all rolls
On the Payroll Whether he needed a bodyguard in a rough neighborhood, a guide to an isolated archeological dig, or information on a specialized topic, Professor Lorrimor was never shy about hiring professionals to help him attain his goals. Over the course of his l
Provincial -2 diplomacy and sense motive vs. those whose religion or alignment differs from your own
Tongues (Celestial) You can only understand and speak one language in combat.

"We're watching you, Oathless." a mustachioed Vigilant soldier reminded Robert as he confiscated the hunter's arms and armor, "We'll tolerate no troublemaking within these walls."

Robert just smiled and dipped his head, uttering a noncommittal "Of course, sir" and informed the guardsman of where he would be staying within the city, as his belongings were checked and doublechecked, his entry papers stamped and filed in triplicate, before being sent along into the city when everything was in order. Normally a trip to a city as large and holy as Vigil would be cause for a spot of peaceful relaxation, but business always comes before pleasure.

Business that led him to a quiet little tavern by the name of The Wall's Mortar, tucked away in the southern shadow of Castle Overwatch, and the last place his quarry had been seen before the trail went cold. A clean, orderly place, Robert noted as he stepped through the front door, but evidently rather unpopular - the balding innkeep's only customers seemed to be a handful of the local peasantry and a pair of disgruntled officers by the fireplace.

"Don't get many Oathless 'round these parts, sah," the pudgy innkeep hailed him down, as Robert made his way towards the bar, "Names Chud, what'll it be today?"

"A room and a word, if you'd please, goodman." Robert replied, stacking a few fat gold coins up on the counter, "I'm looking for an old friend of mine - a wizard, human, with shortcropped hair and a sunburst tattoo across the right side of his jaw. Said he'd meet me here; I don't suppose he's already come by?"

"Aye, aye, sah," Chud nodded, sweeping up the proffered coin, "I remember him keenly, I do. Came 'round just last week. Paid on time, tipped well - said he were off to Hallein Town for some business deal or somethin' when he left just three days back. Hopin' y'manage to catch him in time - gettin' out there can be a pain; I'll show y't'yer room now, if'n it please ye."

Robert nodded, a frown creasing his face as the tavernkeep led him upstairs, thoughts racing: Hallein Town? Vampires? Damn it all - one step forward, two steps back. What're his interests out there? I'll have to leave in the morning to have any hope of catching up - the bastard.

Unfortunately, things never quite seem to go as planned. Robert was greeted by a smiling Chud in the morning, who pressed a letter into his hands, addressed to him from "The Executors of Prof. Petros Lorrimor's Estate". The color draining from him, Robert all but dashed for the door, and the exit to the city - business, after all, can always change.

DEFENSE

AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+3 Dex)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +4

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft.
Melee
Ranged Attack
Investigator Extracts prepared (CL 1st)

to be decided

STATISTICS

Str 13, Dex 16, Con 15, Int 19 (17+2), Wis 14, Cha 14
Base Atk +0; CMB +1; CMD 14
Feats (to be decided)
Traits On the Payroll, Pragmatic Activator (third trait to be decided)
Skills Knowledge (arcana, planes, religion and history) 8+, Intimidate 6+, Bluff 6+, Diplomacy 6+, Perception 6+, Spellcraft 8+, Use Magic Device 8+ and Craft (Alchemy) 8+
Languages Common, Aklo, Undercommon, Infernal and Necril
SQ Inspiration 5/5

Arabeth
Female Garuda-Blooded Aasimar (Plumekith) Oracle 1
NG Medium outsider (native)
Hero Points 1
Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +3
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Defense
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AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+3 Dex)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +4
Resist oracle's curses (tongues [celestial]), acid 7, cold 7, electricity 7, fire 7
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee aldori dueling sword +2 (1d8+2/19-20)
Oracle Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4):
1st (4/day)—bless, cure light wounds, cure light wounds
0 (at will)—virtue, stabilize, mending, light
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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 15, Cha 17
Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 15
Feats Additional Traits
Traits chosen child, faith healer, heirloom weapon (proficiency), inspired by greatness, rich parents, unscathed
Skills Acrobatics +6, Diplomacy +4, Disguise +4, Fly +6, Handle Animal +7, Heal +7, Perception +3, Ride +4; Racial Modifiers +2 Acrobatics, +2 Fly
Languages Celestial, Common, Elven, Gnome, Sylvan, Varisian
SQ hedonistic, hero points, mysteries (life), revelations (life link [1 bonds, 110']), variant channeling (self-perfection variant channeling [±1 sacred])
Other Gear Dueling sword, 130 GP
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Special Abilities
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Damage Resistance, Acid (7) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Acid attacks.
Damage Resistance, Cold (7) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Cold attacks.
Damage Resistance, Electricity (7) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Electricity attacks.
Damage Resistance, Fire (7) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Fire attacks.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Faith Healer Can make a Heal check weekly to earn money.
Hedonistic If you do not gain a reward in a day, you are fatigued for 4h the next day (Fort DC 20 negates)
Hero Points (1) Hero Points can be spent at any time to grant a variety of bonuses.
Inspired by Greatness (Cure Light Wounds, Mass) Whether you knew Professor Lorrimor well or only in passing, as a colleague or competitor, his career and lifetime of discovery inspired you to be better at what you do. As you honed your craft, you and the professor corresponded, and he was delighted
Life Link (1 bonds, 110') (Su) Bond drains your HP to heal others.
Self-Perfection Variant Channeling (±1 Sacred) Ignore one condition/Penalty vs conditions
Tongues (Celestial) You can only understand and speak one language in combat.

I'm told I can find a guide through the starback mountains.
This here is a smithy.
You're Lokien Forge? I presume.
You presume rightly, good sir, but I'm sure you're in the wrong place for I'm an armor smith.
I require a guide through the mountains and my sources directed me to you.
You sound like one of those broken magic talking mouths. I told ya. I ain't no guide.....
I can pay wel-...
Sigh...I said no.

At this moment, several thugs broke in, interrupting the conversion.

"Give it up old man and give us the map to this dwarven treasure!!! move it you old dwarf. We're armed and all you have is a smithy hammer. We're all trained swordsmen, you wouldn't stand a chance.
No. I cannot. That treasure should be where is supposed to be. I am but a researcher and wish only to study it.
"Stuff it old man. Hand it over."

A Mohawk thug attempts to snatch the professor's bag but is stopped as a strongly callused hand closes over it. He's dragged down to the dwarf's height and the last thing he hears before being knocked unconsious is..........I'm trained too.......in hammers.

The fight is vicious and unfair. The professor displays an unforeseen skill with his book bag as the dwarf blurs into action, forging hammer and tongs in hands. The thugs are tied up and dumped outside for the local authorties to collect. Lokien turns to the professor.

I want your word that you do not remove anything from the tomb I'm about to show you for they belong to my ancestors.
You have it. Now....Ale? That fight made me thirsty. Shall we seal the deal over it?
Spoken like a true dwarf. I have a 80 year old dwarven mead.

Attributes
STR 18
DEX 20
CON 16
INT 18
WIS 13
CHA 20

Stats
Languages Known: Common, Aklo, Draconic, D’ziriak, Auran, Terran
Initiative: +7 (5 Dex +2 Trait)
Senses: +5 Perception, Low-Light Vision & Darkvision (60’)
Alignment: Neutral Good

Offense
BAB +0

Sword Cane
Attack: 1d20 + 0 BAB + 4 STR
Damage: 1d6 + 4 STR

Defense
HD: 14

AC: 18 (10 Base + 3 Armour + 5 Dex)
FF / Touch: 13 / 15

CMB: 4 (0 BAB + 4 STR)
CMD: 19 (10 Base + 0 BAB + 4 STR + 5 DEX)

Saves
Fort +3 (+0 Base +3 Con)
Ref +7 (+2 Base +5 Dex)
Will +3 (+2 Base +1 Wis)

Skills (6 Base + 4 Int + 1 Favoured Class)
Craft Alchemy +8 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +4 Int)
Diplomacy +9 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +5 Cha)
Disable Device +9 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +5 Dex)
Disguise +9 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +5 Cha)
Knowledge History +8 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +4 Int)
Knowledge Planes +10 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +2 Racial +4 Int)
Linguistics +8 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +4 Int)
Perception +5 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +1 Wis)
Spellcraft +8 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +4 Int)
Stealth +10 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +2 Racial +5 Dex)
Use Magic Device +9 (+1 Rank +3 Class Skill +5 Cha)

Traits
Accelerated Drinker - Can drink as a move action
Armour Expert. Reduces Armor Check Penalty by 1. Would allow me to gain +1 Armour.
Chance Saviour - +2 Initiative.

Feats
Toughness

Special Abilities
Proficiencies - Simple weapons, handcrossbow, rapier, sap, shortbow, short_sword, sword cane. Light armour, but not shields.

Inspiration - The investigator has an inspiration pool equal to ½ his investigator level + his intelligence bonus. As a free action, he can spend one use of his inspiration from his pool to add 1d6 to the result of a skill or ability check. This choice is made after the check is rolled, and before the results are revealed. Inspiration can only be used once per check or roll. Inspiration can be used on any Knowledge, Linguistics, or Spellcraft skill check for free, provided the Investigator is trained in that skill. Inspiration can also be used on Attack rolls and Saving throws, but it requires two uses of Inspiration to do so.

Trapfinding - An Investigator adds ½ his level to Perception skill checks made to locate traps, and Disable Device checks to disarm them. An Investigator can use Disable Device to disarm magical traps.

Alchemy
When using Craft (Alchemy) to create an alchemical item, the Investigator gains a competence bonus equal to his class level on the skill check. He can also make Craft (Alchemy) checks to identify potions, as if using detect magic.

Extracts behave like spells in potion form, and can be dispelled by dispel magic and similar effects. The Investigator can create a certain number of extracts of each level per day. An extract immediately becomes inert if it leaves the investigator’s possession, reactivating as soon as it returns to his keeping. An extract once created remains potent for 1 day before losing its magic. Mixing an extract takes 1 minute of work.

An investigator uses the Alchemist formulae list, and can prepare an extract of any formula he knows. He must have an Intelligence score equal to 10 + the extract level to learn or use it. The saving throw DC of an investigator’s extract is 10 + the extract’s level + the investigator’s intelligence modifier.

The Investigator stores his formulae in a tome and can know any number of forumlae. An investigator can add formulae to his book the same way a wizard adds spells to his spellbook. An investigator can study a wizard’s spellbook to learn any formulae that is equivalent to a spell the spellbook contains. A wizard, however, cannot learn spells from a formula book.

Formulae Known
6 First Level (2 Base + 4 Intelligence)

Cure Light Wounds (Heals 1d8 + Caster Level)
Detect Secret Doors
Enlarge Person (Humanoid grows 1 size category)
Illusion of Calm
Shield (+4 AC Shield Bonus)
True Strike (+20 to next Attack)

Formulae and Inspiration Per Day
Inspiration: 5
Formulae: 2 First Level

Equipment
40gp

Sword Cane (45gp / 4 lbs)
One Handed Weapon
1d6 Damage
20 x2 Critical

Note: You can draw the blade from the cane as a swift action (or a free action if you have the Quick Draw feat). An observer must make a DC 20 Perception check to realize an undrawn sword cane is a weapon rather than a walking stick; the DC decreases to 10 if the observer is able to handle the weapon.

Short Sword (10gp / 2 lbs)
Light Weapon
1d6 Damage
19-20 x2 Critical

Studded Leather Armour (25gp / 15 lbs)
Light Armour
+3 Armor
+5 Max Dex
0 Armor Check

“It’s important.” interrupted the servant. He was holding a small note with a seal that the professor didn’t recognise. He looked down at the uncomfortable student, with a smile. “A moment please.”

Zevran picked up a small dagger from his desk and sliced open the envelope with it. As he read his demeanour changed noticably, he stiffened and his brow furred. Before he was even finished reading, and without lifting his eyes from the page, he spoke to the messenger. “Ready my horses, and tell the Dean that I am taking a sabbatical. Immediately.”

As the messenger rushed from the room, the young student looked around with nervousness and excitement. Typically when the professor rushed off, it was in pursuit of some kind of magical item or complex device. But she noticed that he didn’t look like he usually did. Rather than a sense of wonder and curiosity, he seemed much more forlorn.

“W-what’s happened, professor?” She asked quietly.

Seeming to have forgotten she was there, the professor looked at her in surprise, but smiled after a second. “An old, very old friend has passed.” He paused for a second, and looked at her with more interest than he ever had before, as though he was studying her for something. “Charlotte. You’re more clever than most of the other children,” he stated, “you must have noticed that I’m not exactly… human.”

She nodded slowly, her excitement for finally having her suspicions proved correct dwarfed by her fear of what he was going to say next.

But he smiled. “Clever girl. I am a Kayal, what humans typically call Fetchlings. My home, my original home, is the Shadow Plane. Have you heard of it?” This time she shook her head, so he continued. “It is a dark and dangerous place, ruled by genies and shadows and dragons and liches and other terrible, terrible creatures.”

“Many years ago, long before you were born, even before your parents were born, I was trying to find a way to escape from that dark place. I knew that the barriers between the Shadow Plane and the Material World were weak in places, and I was designing a contraption that would allow me to create a door to pass through. When I was about to perform my first test, a hotshot young wizard was attempting his own test at the same time, though he used magic where I used technology.” He smiled, lost to his own memories. “Petros Lorrimor.”

“Petros jumped in immediately, he always was excited to venture somewhere new. Hell, if he had his way, he probably would have been the first person to die.” He shooke his head with a smile. “This wizard came barrelling through this tear in reality bringing an enormous amount of energy with him to do so. Not only was my machine destroyed, but Petros himself collapsed instantly.”

“You must realise that I was already an old man by then. Time operates differently on the Shadow Plane, you see. Years go by there in what amounts to days here. I’d lived for nearly a century and I had never seen a human before. And here, one comes through and I thought it was already dead.” He chuckled.

“I managed to revive him, but it took several days. Eventually, he was able to teach me his tongue, and we were able to share our findings with each other. Petros liked being there, do not be mistaken, but it was too dangerous, especially in his weakened state. Travelling between has been very taxing on him. It would be months before he had the energy to try again.”

“As strong as he was, he didn’t believe that he would be able to return without my assistance. The Shadow Plane changed his magic talent in some way that he couldn’t quite explain. For the next several months, we rebuilt and improved upon my original design, creating a machine that would allow both of us to pass through into the Material Realm.”

“I was terrified when we came through. I was already old and knew nothing of this world. I stayed with Petros for a time. I tried to teach him about technology and he tried to teach me about magic, but neither of us had much flair for the other,” he laughed again.

“He was the man who inspired me to go into teaching,” Zevran explained. “He had this way with his students, with everyone, that he could just make them feel like they were stronger and smarter than they were, and they’d achieve great results. I am an intelligent man, and I have learned a lot in the 30 years since I’ve left the Shadow Realm, but I doubt very much that I could construct that machine again. He refused to believe me when I said that he was trapped, refused to let me give up after each of our attempts failed. We lost touch some years ago, but I doubt he changed very much towards the end. He was the best man I ever knew, and now, well. He’s gone off on another adventure.”

The servant had come into the room quietly while the professor was speaking, and had listened with great interest, though not neary as much as the young girl had. Zevran looked up with tears in his eyes, noticing for the first time the servant’s presence. He cleared his throat. “Everything ready, then?”

The servant nodded, and replied, “Yes sir. The Master is not… pleased… by your departure, but realises that these are extraordinary circumstances.”

Zevran smiled, and replied “They always are,” he threw the girl a wink, which she giggled at, and then, his face turned more serious. “It has slipped my mind why you were sent here.”

“Oh, right, yes.” She replied, looking embarrassed. “I, ah, made my teacher purple.”

The professor burst out into laughter. “My dear, let me give you a piece of advise, it’s the only advise that I have to give: When dealing with matter, be it chemicals in a beaker, or elements in the air, or even matters of the heart, things have a great potential to get… messy.”

He raises his voice.. "That will not be necessary.. My name is Deacon, I am a Warpriest of Gorum and a past resident of this trash pile.. I am here to attend the funeral of a friend, the late Professor Lorrimor.. Now I would appreciate it if you would allow me to pass.."

The guard looks hard.. "That you Deacon? Man the years haven't treated you to well have they.. Hold up Jacob.. There won't be any need for reinforcements.."

Deacon glares at the man.. "The years have treated me just fine you asshat.. Now open the gate before you have to send for those guards again.." "Good to see their xenophobia hasn't changed in this backwood trashheap.."

Arabeth sat in her usual lotus position, eyes closed towards the first rays of morning sun. A slight frown creased her brow, this morning's meditation was not bringing her the usual inner peace.

With a sigh she opened her eyes and stood. She felt the unease and wondered what it portend. With a spreading of her cloak, the myriad gossamer black feathers shimmering in the morning's rays, she stepped from her perch and descended gracefully to her rooms below.

As her bare feet touched the cool marble of her chamber's floor she offered a smile in thanks to the maid servant who offered her the light robe even as she donned it and continued further inside.

It was the expression of her aid which caused her unease to grow, even as she accepted the envelope from Marathra. Having known the other woman for this many years Arabeth could pick up the subtle signs in the other woman's demeanor.

Arabeth moved towards the lounge gracing one corner of the room, preferring its comfort over that of the soft chair behind her desk, for the receiving of bad news. For this surely must be what the crisply folded paper must convey.

*"We Regret to Inform you..."* Arabeth could not help buy release a soft sigh even as the words brought forth their meaning.

She has the Ancestor mystery allowing her to call upon the spirits of her family, the haunted curse representing those members who were not happy with life as a revenant.

As an additional selling point her class abilities are all themed to enhance the effect, her shield of souls may appear as for a moment a ghostly swordsman blocking the attack aimed at her back before vanishing.
She's sort of the Ghost Whisperer and Buffy rolled into one.

Already her brother Garrick, a Paladin of Pharasma, had made his way to the temple, before heading home to reunite with his new wife. The graveyard of the village they'd ridden to aid had finally been put to rest after a hard fought battle, and Rhia longed to have the fingerbone scratches on her leg soothed by the hot water and bath salts.

A wall sconce snuffed out behind her, the work of one of the rebellious ghosts that travelled with her, a sign of her exhaustion, they were always harder to restrain when she was tired.
Despite the fact that it was well past midnight, she was glad to see a warm fire in her anteroom, a welcome home by Milen, the family's head maid. As she dropped her gear just inside the door, and made her way to the bath she could see the steam rising, beckoning, an irresistable call.

Without hesitation she began to disrobe, the warm air comforting, a hint of what lay in store in the water almost too hot to bear, just the way she liked it. As the last of her garments hit the floor she noticed a letter, on the dresser. As she considered letting it wait until morning, the envelope floated up off of the dresser, hovering across the room to her hand.

"Fine, I'll read it now." she said in mock exasperation.

She broke the seal, unfolding the parchment to find an official looking script as she read the first words "Dear Sir or Madam,
We hereby regretfully inform you ..", the world seemed to go cold.

The Professor was dead.

The tears came freely, the loss of a good friend striking deep until the sobs wracked her body as she knelt on the lush rug, clutching the letter to her chest. Unaware of the passage of time, she slowly rose, gently placing the letter back on her dresser and entered the bathing chamber, slowly lowering herself into the warm water. Though not quite as hot as it would have been, the water soothed her soul as much as her aching body if not more. She would sit here for a while, allowing her mind and body to relax, and then she would sleep. Because tomorrow......tomorrow she would be attending a funeral.

Arabeth Ruyorm has an ulterior motive with going to Ustalav despite it's proximity to Cheliax... Working with the Professor was simply business, well paid business but still just business. Arabeth in truth desires old and ancient artifacts of the Whispering Tyrant and other secrets and relics of Ustalav's dark past. As she has become obsessed with finding artifacts and relics, those items can help her survive the Chelexian onslaught which only seems to be ramping up... While going through Nidal to get to Ustalav Arabeth Ruyorm was set upon by a force of hellknights while she escaped her beloved Dragon Pistol was thrown out of her hand and now all she has is her dagger...

The journey has been difficult and Arabeth Ruyorm hopes that it is worth it...

While the Torches were by all means not infallible and had their share of setbacks, nontheless they managed to gain an impressive reputation as relentless enemies of evil and undeath. They traced the reason for their success to the fact each generation a female child was born in the family bearing a striking resemblance with the original ancestor, and exibiting uncommon powers. Seemingly blessed by Iomedae this child invariably grew up as a skilled inquistor bringing eternal rest to the horrors still plaguing Ustalav.
The child was not always easy to identify, but while growing around dangers of every kind up the Torches knew her nature would show herself rather quickly (if not the chances of an unpleasant demise were rather high....). In any case any female Jalar was given a aword dating back to the original Shining Crusade. If and when the bearer would prove herself she would be given the original sword Jyan beared during the fight against the Whispering Tyrant.

During this age Lauran is considered to be the most probable heir of teh ancestor. She has not done anything so impressive as to convince all of her elders in the family, but she has done enough to sway a number of them. Certainly she has roamed most of Ustalav and, despite being rather young, she has dealt with a number of monstrusities plaguing the Immortal Principality. It was in the very first of her missions that she met Professor Petros Lorrimor.

Lauran had been ordered to observe and report about a group of cultists supposedly following an ancient version of Pharasma's teachings. What she found out was a group of lunatics affiliated with the Whispering Way intent in sacrificing an old man to their foul patron. Despite being severely outnumbered, and having orders to just watch Lauran decided she could not allow the fould deed to be accomplished. Springing into action Lauran managed to scare, confuse and ultimately dispatch most of the cultists, leading the survivors to believe they were up against a large number of inquisitors fleeing into the night before completing their ritual. Freeing the old man from the bindings connecting him to the slab of obsidian meant to be the place where he would meet his end, Lauran initially didn't think much of the aged scholar giving her an odd look and thanking her with solemn courtesy. She got the impression the old man wasn't entirely happy to be saved as if what he had just undergone was no more than an interesting experience he would have liked to study a bit longer. Anyway the man presented himself as Professor Petros Lorrimor and promised her she would be rewarded for her help. Through the years he actually made good to his promise giving Lauran profound (if sometimes odd) insights into the dark things that roamed he ustalavic nights, and she actually grew to like the man, finding him refreashingly different from the usually dull members of her family.

Learning about Lorrimor's demise was therefore quite unsettling for Lauran. It was with a sad heath that she travelled to Ravengro to bury the man she had called friend and hear her camerade last whishes.

Personality: Lauran is quiet and dedicated. She doesn't talk much if not needed, having been trained to suspect of everything and everyone and to listen to other people's talk for hints of corruption. Lauran shows the world a confident facade, and she certainly trusts in her abilities, yet, she also feels the stress of her family's expectations. Since she was old enough to be trained she was told she was exceptional and she was expected to bring honor and glory to her family. From there she was given a very rigorous training, learning how to best shatter a skeletron spine with a mallet by 4 and 50 different ways to stake a vampire by seven, yet lacking a prospective on what "normal" people did for living. She doesn't exactly understand what she misses, yet she knows she does, and, being curious she started wondering about how would her life be without all the responsabilities she was saddled with.

Phisical descrition: Lauran is tall for a woman, with a lithe figure and short dark hair matched by her blackened armor. Despite her eavy armor Lauran is good at moving silently, probably a consequence of her natural grace.

Easily able to catch the eye and heart of any man, she instead devoted herself to a woman, Pharasma, the lady of Graves.

Long years of training slaked her voracious appetite for knowledge, her large collection of books her companions for years, and the many tasks of a village priest filling her life and time. Many years were filled with cradling new babes, tending the sick and far too often laying the dead in the ground.

And on occasion, making sure they stayed there.

One fateful day, enjoying a rare new tome at her favored reading spot, an old hickory next to a small pond full of delicious catfish, she heard the sounds of a battle just over the next hill. Bandits and worse not strange here, she grasped her worn, but trusty morningstar and dashed over the hill.

Before her she saw a battle in the last moments, an older man struck down, surrounded by several miscreant. Chanting a prayer to her Mistress she charged into their midst laying low the filthy buggers, some of whom she had brought into the world, she now rectified that mistake and sent them on. A prayer later, she revived the man, who introduced himself as The Professor.

That had been last year. She had kept a correspondence with him and liked him, perhaps a little more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

Vashti is a Varisian of Ustalavic heritage.

Tall for a women she is just under 5’11’’, her hair is dark black with grey at the temples just beginning.

Her hands are the hands of a worker having spent as much time at harvest as the desk or temple.

Just shy of hitting middle age, she still turns heads, but now is more intent on keeping the younger generation on a strait path. With a habit of speaking her mind and dealing with superstitious yokels, she often accents her speech with a pointed slap to the back of the head to “knock some stupid out”.

He had learned to curb his robbery habits and was getting used to the interactions of civilized people, but he still felt that there was always something in the ways such people said things that he just didn't quite get.

So when the man he asked about the whereabouts of his former bandit clan flinched and ran at the mention of his old chief Snipes, Roman didn't think much of it. Roman decided that the old hideout was as good a place to start as any. Roman didn't want to rejoin the clan per se, but he didn't really know what else to do so he decided to take the risk that attempting to rejoin the clan after spending a year away would be, besides he wanted to see his mother. The first thing he noticed at the gate to the camp was that despite being in the same place as always, on a small plateau reachable only by some haphazardly carved stairs going up a steep hill, was that it was significantly smaller.

My name is Roman Mitkova, son of Thalia Mitkova. I'm here to see Snipes.

The man at the gate, younger than Roman, looked at him incredulously. He spoke in the clan dialect. Dunno if you'ze think you'ze crackin' me, but Snipes been red fuur moons. I don't know if you think you're being funny, but Snipes died months ago The words sounded off to Roman, but he understood as well as he always had. 'sides, ent no babier named Mitkova round here since Gregor came up.
The Mitkovas were all exiled, there aren't any Mitkova women since Gregor kicked them out. Gregor was a compatriot of mine in my days here.

Where's Gregor? He'll be knowin' me.

Gregor came out with the entourage of a chief. He had three women and a handful of bodyguards.Roman! Tima been, eh? Thought you been done caged! Why you'ze here? You gotta know you'ze gon be pounded!

Roman fingers his bandolier holding the vials of acid and alchemist's fire he'd made. I ent here to rejoin, I'ze just lookin' to find my mam. Birdy over there said you gave her the leather?

Ent quite all of it, woman was attached to the old order. So I sent her to the pit.

She sided with the old leader when Gregor came into power. So he killed her, I guess I was wrong to think she was exiled.

Why you'ze gone an killed her? None o the old chiefs killed none but the one came afore themselves?

Gregor laughs. We moved on. New practice. Those who dun side with Gregor get them's offed. Now tima you get's out. You ent one of us no more.

Roman walked away, making a mental note to come back. he wouldn't have wanted revenge before meeting the professor as people dying was simply part of bandit life, but he felt something was different about the people who would want to kill there own comrades. He planned to find work in the nearest town, and using the money he had from Lorrimor and the money from whatever job he could get, he'd make enough fire, acid, and whatever else he could and he'd burn the camp to the ground. he was alone, but he would beat them the same way the professor had taught him to beat undead. By supplementing his strength with his intellect.

19 - 1d6 ⇒ 19 - (4) = 15
19 - 1d6 ⇒ 19 - (5) = 14
19 - 1d6 ⇒ 19 - (5) = 14
19 - 1d6 ⇒ 19 - (3) = 16
19 - 1d6 ⇒ 19 - (3) = 16
19 - 1d6 ⇒ 19 - (3) = 16

Chance Savior Fate smiled on you and Professor Lorrimor one day in the not so distant past. Through a matter of pure chance, you were in a position to save the late scholar’s life and did so. His gratitude was effusive, and he promised that he would never forget you. You are unsure of the nature of the summons in his will, but believe he may have listed you as a possible heir in thanks for saving him from an untimely demise. Your ability to think quickly on your feet has stayed with you, and you quite often feel that you’re in the right place at the right time.
Benefit: You gain a +2 trait bonus on Initiative checks.
Channel Energy (Su) 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

Charming Blessed with good looks, you've come to depend on the fact that others find you attractive.
Benefit: You gain a +1 trait bonus when you use Bluff or Diplomacy on a character that is (or could be) sexually attracted to you, and a +1 trait bonus to the save DC of any language-dependent spell you cast on such characters or creatures.

Desperate Resolve You are adept at casting spells even in the most precarious situations.
Benefit: You gain a +1 trait bonus on concentration checks. This trait bonus increases to + 4 when you are grappled, pinned, in violent weather, or entangled.

Gentle Rest (Sp): Your touch can fill a creature with lethargy, causing a living creature to become staggered for 1 round as a melee touch attack. If you touch a staggered living creature, that creature falls asleep for 1 round instead. Undead creatures touched are staggered for a number of rounds equal to your Wisdom modifier. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier

Lore Keeper (Sp): You can touch a creature to learn about its abilities and weaknesses. With a successful touch attack, you gain information as if you made the appropriate Knowledge skill check with a result equal to 15 + your cleric level + your Wisdom modifier. y equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.

Sentimental You are sentimental, and your thoughts often stray to the past at inappropriate times.
Effect: You take a –2 penalty on Perception checks to avoid being surprised and on Reflex saving throws to avoid traps or hazards.
Undead Slayer Instructed at a young age in the tenets of the faith of the Goddess of Souls, you view the undead as abominations that must be destroyed so their souls can journey beyond to be judged.
Benefit: You gain a +1 trait bonus on weapon damage rolls against undead.