THE BLIGHT - Table for One

Game Master Dildo_Dabbins

Her spellbook is random. Starting and the 2/level gain I'm going to mostly-randomize; if the gen lands on a non-Magus spell, I'll pick the nearest one.

Deformity 2: 1d36 ⇒ 12 - The pupils of your eyes resemble a cat’s, and beasts cannot abide your presence. You take a –2 penalty on Handle Animal and Ride checks.
Note: Original result. Previewing a number of times can change it, and I have been.

See below.

Similarly, I've decided to randomize her spellbook. It was inherited from her "father" (see below), and with magic as guarded and treasured as you indicate, it makes sense that she wouldn't have a total range of choices. I can always find ways to add more to the list, but this adds another layer of grit that appeals to me.

That all being said, I'd like to propose a bargain for the duplicate abilities between Monk and the archetyped Paladin, which would benefit me. Despite all of the above, the she only has a 10 Con and 12 Str, and those are fairly hefty hits on an unarmed, unarmored melee character. If I'm selected, and this only becomes necessary to answer should you choose me, I would like to make the following changes to the Enlightened Paladin:

(Level 1:) Remove Unarmed Strike. Replace with the ability to combine Natural Attacks with Flurry of Blows, changing the claws to Secondary attacks (for a -5 to hit and 1/2 Str bonus to dmg{0}) as well as suffering from the -2 penalty from Flurry. This is a lot of iteratives, but I do little damage, and have better things to magically buff than Strength, so the extra damage will likely never increase. And, that's a lot of miss. +3(IUS)/+3(IUS)/-3(Claw)/-3(Claw) at 1st.
This has a flavor component too; see below.

(Level 5:) Remove Ki Pool. Replace with the ability to substitute the two attacks with the highest BAB from Flurry and one of the Claw attacks to use Spell Combat as part of a Full-Attack action combining FoB/Claws, with the additional -2 from Spell Combat applying to all attacks. At 5, this is an additional Claw on top of spell combat/spellstrike, with both having a -4 to hit. It doesn't scale much better; at 15, I'd have +6(UAS)/+6(UAS)/+6(Claw)/+6(Spellstrike Claw)/+1(IUS)/+1(IUS) {+Dex}, which is the same number of attacks as a Monk but with radically reduced hit. I would need a massive Dex boost to up those numbers anywhere near broken, IMO. Although, in fairness, I do start getting bonuses to hit from Int via Kensai at some point, but this is still at present only +3 more, and still a far cry from the +13 base Monk.

Call this new ability "Onslaught of the Storm" or the like. Something to think about.

She will always remember the screams of chaos, the harsh scent of copper as she was hauled passed the corpse of her father, the bitter taste of the bile that welled in her throat as she caught sight of his entrails strewn across the dinner table and his head resting atop a pike in their yard. Nor can any number of years erase the wails of her mother, one final grasp brushing against Kedeshah's reaching hand, or the sight of her mother bursting aflame, the scent of flesh reaching beyond the horrid, melted slag of her home to remind her that she had not had a good meal in weeks, and she was hungry.

Memory is a funny thing. Kedeshah recalls spending years locked in a chest, only the slightest of holes for air, her and the seven other children crammed inside by the slavers sporadically released only long enough to be doused in water, tossed moldy food, and reorganized before returning to the dark, wet, heat of captivity; it could not have been more than a few months. Yet the years of her childhood, before she could be called a woman, seemed naught but a blurred minute, the endless nights in the company of deplorable men graciously reduced to vague recollections; wine with coriander still makes her queasy, and the fur on her back, when in need of a trim and tickling her neck, brings a small bit of comfort in the form of Halfling feet. The Halflings had been her favorites; they were the most gentle.

Kedeshah's fingertips still ache, even her bones unable to forget the years of harsh filing done to her natural claws; though, she looks with fondness on their blood red, dyed tips, an accessory she added in honor of her first eye, gouged from the socket of one particularly vile owner, only one of so very many she had been owed in her life. It was one of the first moments that would define who she came to be as she grew into a woman.

Though she can scant recall when the change occurred, it seemed overnight that the list of her forced clientele changed drastically. Gone were the Halflings, and the most egregious of perverts; in their place were men who found themselves in the swell of her breasts, or lost themselves in the curls of her auburn hair.

Fate is a funny thing. While some women covet and grow envious of the beauty of others, as Kedeshah grew into her own, what these would consider a blessing was her curse; she grew tall, lithe, and voluptuous, which only made her a greater asset to her owners, and cursed with greater demand.

Kedeshah could have chosen to remain demure, passively giving herself over to those who would take regardless, but she had been born stubborn, and that was all the worse. Even the Gacci family would have difficulty stomaching the particular delights of her customers, as her violent and uncooperative nature forced her to be bound, gagged, and restrained when at the workplace, and such accommodations catered to a taste most foul.

Yet Fate would smile upon Kedeshah when an arrogant, cocksure client deigned to set her free. Large and burly, the symphony of breaking bones was muffled by his physique, but the freed whore danced with glee all her own as she splintered and fractured as much of the man's body as would crunch under her heel.

Many would call the smile cruel, as Kedeshah still bears scars dotting her back, mementos of the severe flaying she endured as a result of her insolence. Yet, without forcing her "employers" to seek Arcane healing (and avoid the minions of Mother Grace), to save their treasured asset, Arcnoryn Horalskstein would likely have never laid his eyes on the poor girl; a hefty, but still reduced due to her state, sum of money was procured on the spot, and Kedeshah became the property of the first man she would consider family in decades.

Family is a funny thing. Arcnoryn recognized immediately that this was no human girl of poor genes, and once she was able to function once again, educated Kedeshah of her true heritage; she learned much from Arcnoryn, though despite the Wizard's keen intellect and grasp of magic, why she had never received her Hag's calling remained a mystery.

Her new home, a delightful manor in the hills of Fallowshire, grew swiftly familiar, akin as it was to her youthful, though forgotten, farmhouse scant miles away; this was aided by Arcnoryn, who purchased Kedeshah for her freedom, and, advanced in age, treated her as a young granddaughter. Kedeshah was truly blessed for the first time in a great while.

She spent many days, nose buried in one of the many books of Arcnoryn's library; she began to attend his magical dealings, slowly developing a grasp of the Arcane Arts and changing her role from rescued orphan to authentic Apprentice. Taught the basics of magic, and spending long hours listening diligently when Arcnoryn would host his peers for nights of topical debates and magical theorizing, Kedeshah was an apt pupil, highly intelligent and socially adept despite her upbringing, surprising even the Mages once or twice with her knack for finding a way to just make 'it' work.

Over all, it was a good life.

Optimisim is a funny thing. Kedeshah had gone alone to reference a legal library in Mourneyshire; Arcnoryn's training was working to remove some of her bitter vindictiveness at the slave traders, and as a result she began pursuing the path of law, investing what spare energy she had into litigious practices and legal verbage. Kedeshah hoped one day to become an advocate for social rights, particularly for women.

She was optimistic, looking always at the benefits of a situation with hindsight, rather than the negatives; Arcnoryn had taught her that, too. The incredible rage Kedeshah flew into, upon returning home to find her only family turned into a bloated, undead abomination, caused her to forget her quest for legal justice, and much of what the second man she'd loved had taught her, as she launched upon his assailant. She does not lament the loss of her comfortable life, and instead she recalls that an upward, angled strike to the back of an opponent's skull, in the place where the tendons disappear, will shift the plate enough to grasp it with her claws and rip free the section of bone; neither does she consider the vast amount of knowledge lost that day, but instead, that a quick slice along the bottom will detach an exposed brain, an organ with enough heft and sponginess to choke a spell from a rival Necromancer's throat, and one also moist enough to distract his vision, if just so long as to allow time to bite out the thick, blue veins in his throat.

She remains optimistic now, as she gains respite in the quiet hamlet of Wicken. Opportunities exist everywhere in this world for Kedeshah to find what she seeks; whether justice through the courts, or vengeance in spite of the law, one day she will find peace. Somehow, she knows, she'll figure out just what "peace" means.

After that it was Dad who started drowning in the ale. I think he tries his hardest to keep it together, but even though she was a drunken old hag she was still the love of his life, and losing her snapped him in half like a twig. He's a good man, but I think a part of him still blames me for what happened, even though he'd never admit it. I take care of him as best I can still. I get sick alot tho which makes it that much 'arder to try and play housekeep fer a full grown man.

His condition's not all bad. The pub by the river, where Dad does all his drinking, is where I met the rest of my family. The sailors there took me in as one of their own, looking out for me and making sure I stayed fed and taken care of. One time, a few o the neighbor's kids beat me up and started calling me all sorts of terrible names. I didn't understand why and I remember just crying all the way to the pub, where a bunch of ol' river dogs took turns singing to me and calming me down, telling me it'd be alright. They taught me all sorts of songs growing up. They taught me to sing when you were happy, or sad, or when you were drinking or something bad had happened. Now I've got a shanty for all sorts of occasions.

The Man with the Scar just sort of showed up at the pub one day. I don't know why he took such an interest in me. I was just there to made sure my Dad got home safe, but I guess I do sortof stand out in the average crowd, being paler than the first snowfall and having eyes like a feral cat. There was a band playing that night, but he just all of a sudden took to the stage and started, uh, performing. Wasn't like the shanty's and drinking songs that usually went on. That night sort of blends together in my head, but I think he sang some sort of aria. There may have been some poems he read, too. I think he also danced? It sounds crazy, but I swear not a man in that bar could take their eyes off him. I think we all ended up crying a bit too, but while he performed he never took his eyes off me once. After he was done there was no applause, just a long bit of silence until finally everyone started returning to their conversations again like nothing had happened. That's when he came and asked me my name, and I told him.

He never told me his name, but he taught me new things every time he came to visit. On my 13th name day (gods know when my birthday is) he gave me my first blade, a nicely polished rapier, and told me to practice with it. On my 14th name day, he said he had a different sort of gift for me. That's when he told me about what I was, a changeling, and what to expect to happen as I got older. I'm well past my 20th name day though, I suspect he might've been lying about that whole "call" thing.

My name is Brigid. I get sick alot. I like singing, sword-fighting, and drinking. I like changing my face to blend in. And I'm damn good at magic.

Classes: Oracle of Intrigue/ Bard (Sorrowsoul Archetype) / Swashbuckler (Inspired Blade Archetype)

Race: Winter Hag

Deformity: 12- The pupils of your eyes resemble a cat’s, and beasts cannot abide your presence. You take a –2 penalty on Handle Animal and Ride checks.

Campaign Trait: River Child- You have grown up on the banks of the Lyme River, and frequently interacted with halfling boatfolk making their way to and from Castorhage. You gain a +2 bonus to Swim checks a +2 bonus to all checks for Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, and Perform when interacting with boatfolk, and gain Profession (sailor or boatman) as a class skill. You also gain River Cant as a bonus language.

Stats: STR 11 DEX 16 CON 12 INT 14 WIS 12 CHA 18

Feats: (Bonus- Weapon Focus-Rapier), Fencing Grace, Deft Maneuvers

Oracle Mysteries: Assumed form (Disguise Self at will)

Okay, I'm not gonna go that deep with it. But, in rolling a Paladin, there's an express need for a mutual understanding of the alignment, at least for mechanical purposes, and most especially with the Enlightened archetype.

Enlightened paladins meditate on self-perfection and train relentlessly, knowing that their example can inspire others to excel. Enlightened paladins follow no universal paladin code—each paladin in his service creates his own code as part of his spiritual journey, seeing the adherence to such a self-formulated creed as one of the many tests one must face to reach perfection.

Code of Conduct

A paladin must be of lawful good alignment and loses all class features except proficiencies if she ever willingly commits an evil act.

Additionally, a paladin’s code requires that she respect legitimate authority, act with honor (not lying, not cheating, not using poison, and so forth), help those in need (provided they do not use the help for evil or chaotic ends), and punish those who harm or threaten innocents.

Nowhere do I see the archetype expressly remove the Class Feature that mandated a LG alignment. It's finicky wording at best.

Personally, I'm fine with the LG restriction. I had even considered opting for nonlethal damage during combat where killing isn't necessary. But, she has Profession: Courtesan, and I intended to make use of that (with almost every level of background skill); that might not be "Good" by some interpretations.

I'm forced to insert the "history is written by the winners" argument into this. If Kedeshah is benefiting others, even circuitously (prostituting for information to gain political clout, thus furthering her legal influence and making her better able to help people with her background), would those actions make her less intrinsically "Good?"

Consider a traditional Paladin, in an outright war with fiendish outsiders (Worldwound, or even Tar Baphon); said Paladin is alone with a human evil-person siding with the enemy, who has vital information that could very well save the planet, but they're trapped. Would the Paladin torture the evil person to get the information? And, would that be less "Good"?

For Kedeshah, there would be no hesitation: she would have the information. As a player, I'm cool with the Atonement after, provided there is a reasonable time in which to do so. But, as I see it, she would not be atoning for her actions. In light of the monastic bend of all of this build, she'd be focusing herself, girding and centering on her purpose, so that she is not given in to the lure of violence and Evil; this is opposed to the "traditional" view of the Paladin feeling guilty for what she had done, and praying not only for herself, but for forgiveness from her deity and for the soul of her enemy. Kedeshah prays to no deity (not for power, anyway), and believes that Evil, even among mortals, deserves what Fate brings. Most of the traditional "godly blessings" have been flavored out of the archetype, and I'm pulling it all flavor-wise with the tristalt monk bend. I'm all for developing faith as the campaign goes along, however, but at this point in her life, Kedeshah hasn't had much love for the gods.

This is all pending on selection anyway, but for the moment, I'm going to leave her statblock with a LN alignment. Mechanically, her Aura is tied to Law anyway, so I'm not sure why it would really matter what the other axis sits on, so long as it's not abjectly evil. All you though, and I'll work it either way.

RE: Changes to the Enlightened Paladin. Adding Spell Combat in might be a bit much at the later levels, but Feral Combat Training already exists as a feat. Can I have it in-lieu of the Unarmed Strike feature via Paladin? We can worry about the spell combat part if I'm chosen.

As far as character progression goes, I'm looking at the various style feats, including the Outslug Style line, Kirin Style and Kirin Strike, Combat Reflexes, Lunge (for Outslug), and Combat Style Master. Beyond that, I'm not entirely sure, save that my 3rd Level character feat is going to Improved Improvisation. I'll likely stick to the martial line entirely, with spells as just handy backups, unless, as mentioned before, the campaign focus shifts to a more caster-heavy role.

Also, RE: the Exotic Weapon from Kensai: What I'd like (Orc Hornbow, which I'd just flavor as Greatbow) I couldn't afford at this point anyway. Since you were okay with getting the prof, how about I have it, but I can't “use it” until I get the weapon and practice a few times? Flavorful, and fun (and, it gives me a ranged attack other than damage or a standard bow).

This changed when Lady Marcadian gave birth, in rapid succession, to three daughters of her own. Having already given her husband twin sons to continue the family line Lady Marcadian was left free to manage her female children as she saw fit. With her own children to dote upon and exalt Lady Marcadian had less and less time for Ahreni, who grew up to be a quiet and dutiful child but as she got older her 'mother' began to see Ahreni's beauty and strange grace as a threat to her daughters. When the girls began to tease Ahreni for her 'strangeness' Lady Marcadian turned a blind eye, and subtly even encouraged the escalation - telling her 'real' daughters stories of her own triumphs over rivals and humiliations she inflicted on them. Ahreni was banished to the Marcadian 'country house' near Wicken but even this distance did not save her.

Her daughters learned fast and soon made Ahreni's life one long misery. Ahreni, still attempting to be the dutiful daughter, took the abuse again and again until one night - after a particularly petty attempt to douse her food in soot Ahreni snapped. Every metal piece of furniture in the dining room took on a life of its own and assaulted the Marcadian's, jabbing and slicing at them as Lady Marcadian and all her daughter fled the dining room in fright, leaving Ahreni untouched by the flying utensils that came to her defense.

Unwilling to let the 'upstart' get one over her, the eldest daughter, Vilia, led her sisters to Ahreni's bedroom late at night. Her sister's held Ahreni down and Vilia took great pleasure in slowly carving Ahreni's skin to bloody ruin with a carving knife. A true sadist Vilia only stopped when her younger sisters, Charity and Agnes, begged her to. Ahreni fled the Marcadian manor that night, never to return - her carefully maintained image as a dutiful daughter shredded along with her face.

She made her way, by chance rather than intent, to Wicken where she was found by the blacksmith. Coming across this ragged creature curled up by the dying warmth of his forge Herrero coaxed her gently inside, where his husband Kovach gently tended to her wounds. Ahreni lived with them for a week and never once in that time set foot outside, averting her eyes from shiny surfaces and barely speaking a word.

Herrero, who saw further through a brick wall than most men, never pushed her but one day presented Ahreni with a beautifully tooled leather mask, that covered her livid scars. This gift brought Ahreni out of her shell and with Kovach and Herrero's support she slowly returned to the world of humanity. Eventually Herrero put her to work in the forge, first polishing and filing the detail into his smaller works, and then - when Ahreni demonstrated a talent for the work - assisting him on larger and larger jobs until she was acting as his apprentice in all his work. Kovach, the more gregarious of the couple, managed the shop and took the orders leaving Herrero and Ahreni free of distraction and interference to work in peace.

Herrero told Ahreni many wonderful stories of Castorhage and Ahreni, unable to remember her own early years, built the city into a paradise in her mind. Herrero taught her much besides their forge, instilling in her his own worldview. "Everything has a shape Angel." He often said. "Everything has a perfect shape, a way it should be. The job of the smith, of all good men, is to find the true shape of his own life and to fit it and if he can, he should help others to do the same."

Ahreni's favourite nugget of wisdom however was the one Herrero gave her when she finally asked him what she looked like under her mask. Herrero gently took it off, and lead her to a large piece of polished bronze. As they gazed together at the face, now crisscrossed by jagged white scars he told her. "In crafting there are no mistakes little Angel, only unique creations." This was the acceptance Ahreni needed and slowly, the trauma inflicted by her 'sisters' began to heal.

By now a grown woman Ahreni was becoming known in her own small way, for turning out jewelry and fine metalwork, unlike anything that Herrero had produced before. He always attributed the work to 'his apprentice' and one day Ahreni was confronted by her past, in the form of Lady Marcadian and Vilia.

On a fine and bright morning, Kovach called her into the shop where she was confronted by her former mother who stood, perfectly poised and erect, in the middle of the shop while her daughters pawed through Ahreni's finest work. Vilia was the first to look up and promptly pointed at Ahreni, calling out to Kovach. "Really? This scarecrow is the one that makes these lovely things? Why it's hideous - I can't even tell if he's a man or not!" Her sisters sycophantically echoed her laughter until their mother shushed them. Ignoring her daughters she turned to the lanky form of Ahreni, dressed in her thick working leathers and her mask. "My daughters are making their first appearences in Castorhage society this fall. They require jewelry, necklaces, the list is here." Her manicured hands held out the paper by the very corner, as far from Ahreni as possible. "I have chosen to give you the commission. I expect your best work!"

That night Ahreni was fuming, almost unable to bear the thought of Vilia and the others going to Castorhage - to the paradise she dreamed of. Her fathers saw her distress and over the next few months made preparations. The day after Ahreni delivered on her sister's jewelry Herrero deemed her apprenticeship complete and gifted her with a full set of blacksmith's tools, which he had crafted for her. Kovach gave her a share of the profits made on her work and the name of an old friend in Castorhage and Ahreni left her father's, following the Morning Star, for the City of Secrets and Lies and the chance to find the shape of her own life.

In retrospect this feels kinda cliche... oh well :) I'm always open to pointers if you have any GM Morning Star.