The Nobel Storm [GM Striker's Wrath of the Righteous Campaign] (Inactive)

Game Master Sam Sturkie

Core, Advanced Player's Guide, Ultimate Magic, Ultimate Combat, Advanced race Guide (Previously listed races only), Mythic Adventures, Adventure's Armory, Faith of Purity, Faiths of Balance, Blood of Angels, Blood of Fiends, Adventure's Armory, Inner Sea Primer, Knights of the Inner Sea, Demon Hunter's Handbook, Mythic Origins, Gods and Magic, Inner Sea Magic, Inner Sea World Guide, Paths of Prestige, Seekers of Secrets, Champions of Purity, Ultimate Equipment items are subject to approval on a case by case basis unless they appear in another approved source.

A tiny package left on the doors of a small chapel of Desna decades ago. Inside, a little girl slept quietly, the cute Hollycaryn. Her childhood was happy, growing in a small village on the borders of the Lake of Mists and Veils. She met others of her kind, learned how to deal with animals, to respect the creatures of nature, the traditions of her people and a little about religion, especially the connection of Desna with Chaldira Zuzaristan.
Gradually she realized that there was something different about her, something that set her apart from the other children, and it was not the fact of being a halfling, it´s somehow a unknown happiness and a kind of lack of fright against danger. She always had a behavior that emphasized her courage against animals and temptations, even when aye to learn new things.
But, the time to enjoy did not last long to Hollycaryn. The despair and maturation came when she was still a youth and happened when a destruction came to her community by demons! A demonic horde that came out of nowhere and don´t looted anything, not imprisoned anyone, just kill and kill, they wanted to see blood and flesh! Few escaped, among these was Hollycaryn, who saw her mentor, a loyal servant of Desna, died horribly, and the same with her friends. A die without mercy and meaning.
After days she still hiding alone in the woods on north, only after overcoming the fear she returned. Seeing that there was nothing left, only pain and suffering, Hollycaryn just took only one thing, a sacred symbol of Chaldira Zuzaristan made for her. A gift from her mentor, made years ago.
After this event she remained isolated in the woods, spent months suffering, consuming her hate. On a night, in her dreams, came an image of a glittery Elven woman accompanied by an incandescent light, which took the form of a halfling that exuded a serenity and pointed to the stars. Was Chaldira Zuzaristan. So, the stars took shape, an image of a great city, walled to resist and fight against the demonic hordes.
Took months, and some dreams, but she could reach at Kenabres, and although discredited initially, Hollycaryn managed to get a few space to develop your skills as a servant of Gods. For this, she had to deal with the arrogance of men, a lot of humans laughed from her words and expertise. She had to work months as horse´s keeper, until he had the opportunity to show their worth .
But, unlike fanatics with whom lived, Hollycaryn learned to be charismatic, and thanks to that, gradually secured a place in training centers. Her skills in combat were rapidly gaining ground, as if she had been born with a special gift.

Hollycaryn Smilesword
Female Halfling Paladin Sword of Valor of Chaldira Zuzaristan 1
LG Small
Init +2; Senses Perception +3
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Defense
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AC 18 {19}, touch 13 {14}, flat-footed 15 (+5 armor, +2 dex, +1 Size) {+1 dodge against foes larger than her}
hp 10 (1d10)
Fort +2, Ref +2 {+3 vs trample}, Will +3 {+7 vs fear}
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft. (20ft.)
Melee Longsword +2 (1d6+2/19-20x2) and Shortsword +2 (1d4+2/19-20x2)
Ranged Crossbow, light +4 (1d6/19-20x2)
Special Attacks Smite Evil
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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 15, Con 10, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 13
Feats Two-Weapon Fighting (Combat)
Traits Touched by Divinity, Courageous, Armor Master, Overprotective
Skills Handle Animal (Cha) 9 [1+3+3+2], Ride (Dex) 5 [1+3+2+2-3], Stealth (Dex) 3 [2+4-3]
Languages Common, Halfling
Combat Gear Shortsword (10gp/2lbs), Longsword (15gp/4lbs), Crossbow, light (35gp/4lbs), Bolt(s), crossbow [10/10] (2gp/2lbs)
Other Gear Scale mail (50gp/30lbs), Traveler´s Outfit (1gp/5lbs), Pouch, belt (1gp/0,5lb), Backpack (2gp/2lbs). Silver holy symbol, 60 gp
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Special Abilities
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Aura of Good (Ex) The power of a paladin's aura of good (see the detect good spell) is equal to her paladin level.

Detect Evil (Sp) At will, a paladin can use detect evil, as the spell. A paladin can, as a move action, concentrate on a single item or individual within 60 feet and determine if it is evil, learning the strength of its aura as if having studied it for 3 rounds. While focusing on one individual or object, the paladin does not detect evil in any other object or individual within range.

Smite Evil (Su) Once per day, a paladin can call out to the powers of good to aid her in her struggle against evil. As a swift action, the paladin chooses one target within sight to smite. If this target is evil, the paladin adds her Cha bonus (if any) to her attack rolls and adds her paladin level to all damage rolls made against the target of her smite. If the target of smite evil is an outsider with the evil subtype, an evil-aligned dragon, or an undead creature, the bonus to damage on the first successful attack increases to 2 points of damage per level the paladin possesses. Regardless of the target, smite evil attacks automatically bypass any DR the creature might possess.
In addition, while smite evil is in effect, the paladin gains a deflection bonus equal to her Charisma modifier (if any) to her AC against attacks made by the target of the smite. If the paladin targets a creature that is not evil, the smite is wasted with no effect.
The smite evil effect remains until the target of the smite is dead or the next time the paladin rests and regains her uses of this ability. At 4th level, and at every three levels thereafter, the paladin may smite evil one additional time per day, as indicated on Table: Paladin, to a maximum of seven times per day at 19th level.

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Traits & Drawbacks
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Touched by Divinity As long as you can remember, you’ve had an unexplainable interest in one deity in particular. You have been an orphan raised by the church, but these alone cannot explain your deep connection to the faith. You’ve always felt calm and at ease in places holy to the deity, and often have dreams about the god or goddess visiting you—most often in the form of a sacred animal or creature. Your faith is strong, even if you don’t happen to be a divine spellcaster—if you are a divine spellcaster, you should be a worshiper of this deity. You begin play with a silver holy symbol of your chosen deity for free. In addition, choose one domain associated with your chosen deity. You gain the use of that domain’s 1st-level domain spell as a spell-like ability usable once per day (CL equals your character level). Associated Mythic Path: Hierophant. Multiple Characters: If other characters choose this trait, you should all work together to decide what deity you’re associated with—it should be the same deity shared by all of you. You might even share the same dreams.

____________Trickery Domain: Copycat (Sp) You can create an illusory double of yourself as a move action. This double functions as a single Mirror Image and lasts for a number of rounds equal to your cleric level, or until the illusory duplicate is dispelled or destroyed. You can have no more than one copycat at a time. This ability does not stack with the Mirror Image spell.

Courageous Your childhood was brutal, but you persevered through force of will and faith. No matter how hard things got, you knew you'd make it through as long as you kept a level head. You gain a +2 trait bonus on saving throws against fear effects.

Armor Master You have grown accustomed to wearing armor. When you wear armor of any sort, reduce the armor check penalty by 1, to a minimum penalty of 0.

Overprotective In your youth, you saw a younger friend or loved one suffer a grievous injury or die, and you blamed yourself for not having been there to help, even if there was nothing you could have done. If one of your allies should fall unconscious from hit point damage, you take a –2 penalty on attack rolls and skill checks as long as you are farther than 10 feet away from your fallen ally.

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Racial
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Sacred Keepsakes Among halflings, tradition demands that young people must perform a noteworthy task before they can cross the threshold into adulthood. As a sign of their success, most earn or claim some minor token or memento. Though these keepsakes rarely have much value, halflings tend to cherish them and often carry them to their graves. However, for those few who hear the call of the gods, these tokens sometimes prove far more useful.

Noble Needle: This sharp, sturdy needle often commemorates tasks that involve great risks or sacrifices. A halfling who uses it while casting cure light wounds can deal up to 1 hit point of damage/level (maximum 5) to herself and then add this amount to the number of hit points recovered by the target of the spell.

Fearless Halflings receive a +2 racial bonus on all saving throws against fear. This bonus stacks with the bonus granted by halfling luck.

Underfoot Halflings must train hard to effectively fight bigger opponents. Halflings with this racial trait gain a +1 dodge bonus to AC against foes larger than themselves and a +1 bonus on Reflex saving throws to avoid trample attacks. This racial trait replaces halfling luck.

Outrider Some halflings specialize in mounted combat. Halflings with this racial trait gain a +2 bonus on Handle Animal and Ride checks. This racial trait replaces sure-footed.

Weapon Familiarity Halflings are proficient with slings and treat any weapon with the word “halfling” in its name as a martial weapon.

Keen Senses Halflings receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.

Size Halflings are Small creatures and gain a +1 size bonus to their AC, a +1 size bonus on attack rolls, a –1 penalty to their CMB and CMD, and a +4 size bonus on Stealth checks.

Haroon has ruddy flesh, thick black hair, kept close-cropped on head and jaw, an aquiline nose and maroon eyes. He typically wears a long cloak to try to hide the small, batlike wings and long hairless tail that evidence his fiendish heritage.

Haroon was found, naked and squalling in a field, surrounded by slain Mendevian crusaders. Though the priest of Abadar and his cohort intended to abandon the infant, or even slay the obvious fiend, the grizzled mercenary mage they had hired interceded on the babe’s behalf, and took the shrieking tiefling as his own. Haroon grew up in taverns and campsites, and proved a quick study of every arcane art that his adopted father, Merten Falstaff, imparted to him. Despite the fear and outright hostility towards his appearance, Haroon does his best to maintain a positive outlook, seeking the good in himself and others. As Merton once advised him, “Whatever you seek for in others, good or bad, that you shall find.” Unfortunately, Haroon’s appearance has stunted his facility with social interactions, and while he is usually polite, he has a hard time picking up on social cues, and can come across as strange and callous.

As Haroon grew to adulthood, he began to question whether there was more to learn of his heritage. Though his father counseled him that no good would come of any knowledge he should find, Haroon’s curiosity outstripped his father’s wisdom. Determined to learn where he came from, Haroon seeks to travel into the Worldwound and learn its secrets for himself.

Haroon sees Merten as a loving father, but feels that the old man is holding him back from knowledge that he needs. Out on his own, he feels that he has the chance to truly understand himself, and reach his true potential.

Haroon understands the need to repel the demons from Golarion, but believes most crusaders to be thoughtless sheep, lacking the intellectual capacity to understand the creatures and master them.

Haroon Falstaff

Male tiefling wizard 1
CG medium outsider (native)
Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1 (+3)
-Defense--------------------
AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+0 armor, +3 dex)
hp 11 (1d6+5)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will +2
Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5
-Offense--------------------
Spd 30ft.
Melee dagger +0 1d4 (19-20/x2) (P or S) (2gp, 1 lb)
Ranged light crossbow +3 1d8 (19-20/x2) P, 80 ft., (35gp, 4 lbs),
or dagger +3 1d4 (19-20/x2) (P or S), 10 ft.,
or acid dart +3 1d6 (7 / day), 30 ft.
Special Attacks
Spell Like Abilities (CL 1st, concentration +5)

1 / day-darkness

Arcane School Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +5)

7 / day-acid dart (1d6)

Wizard Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +5)

1st - color spray (DC 15), grease (DC 15), protection from evil
0th (at will) - dancing lights, detect magic, read magic

Opposition Schools enchantment, necromancy

-Statistics--------------------
Str 10, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 18, Wis 10, Cha 8
Base Atk +0; CMB +0; CMB 13
Feats Scribe Scroll, Toughness
Skills Acrobatics +3, Appraise +7, Bluff -1, Climb +0, Craft +4, Diplomacy -1, Disguise -1, Escape Artist +3, Fly +7, Handle Animal -1, Heal +0, Intimidate -1, Kn(arcana)+8, Kn(local) +8, Kn(nature) +8, Kn(planes) +8, Kn(religion) +8, Perception +1(+3), Perform -1, Profession +0, Ride +3, Sense Motive +0, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +3, Survival +0, Swim +0
Traits
Languages Common, Abyssal, Draconic, Elven, Infernal, Orc
SQ arcane bond (raven), prehensile tail, summoner’s bond, vestigial wings
Spellbook
0th-acid splash, arcane mark, dancing lights, detect magic, detect poison, flare, ghost sound, light, mage hand, mending, message, open/close, prestidigitation, ray of frost, read magic, resistance, spark
1st-burning hands, color spray, enlarge person, feather fall, grease, mage armor, magic missile, mount, protection from evil, sleep, vanish

A tiny package left on the doors of a small chapel of Desna decades ago. Inside, a little girl slept quietly, the cute Hollycaryn. Her childhood was happy, growing in a small village on the borders of the Lake of Mists and Veils. She met others of her kind, learned how to deal with animals, to respect the creatures of nature, the traditions of her people and a little about religion, especially the connection of Desna with Chaldira Zuzaristan.
Gradually she realized that there was something different about her, something that set her apart from the other children, and it was not the fact of being a halfling, it´s somehow a unknown happiness and a kind of lack of fright against danger. She always had a behavior that emphasized her courage against animals and temptations, even when aye to learn new things.
But, the time to enjoy did not last long to Hollycaryn. The despair and maturation came when she was still a youth and happened when a destruction came to her community by demons! A demonic horde that came out of nowhere and don´t looted anything, not imprisoned anyone, just kill and kill, they wanted to see blood and flesh! Few escaped, among these was Hollycaryn, who saw her mentor, a loyal servant of Desna, died horribly, and the same with her friends. A die without mercy and meaning.Since that day she hasn't forgiven herself for not having helped and prevented the died of her closest friends {Drawback}.
After days she still hiding alone in the woods on north, only after overcoming the fear she returned. Seeing that there was nothing left, only pain and suffering, Hollycaryn just took only one thing, a sacred symbol of Chaldira Zuzaristan made for her. A gift from her mentor, made years ago.
After this event she remained isolated in the woods, spent months suffering, consuming her hate. On a night, in her dreams, came an image of a glittery Elven woman accompanied by an incandescent light, which took the form of a halfling that exuded a serenity and pointed to the stars. Was Chaldira Zuzaristan. So, the stars took shape, an image of a great city, walled to resist and fight against the demonic hordes.
Took months, and some dreams, but she could reach at Kenabres, and although discredited initially, Hollycaryn managed to get a few space to develop your skills as a servant of Gods. For this, she had to deal with the arrogance of men, a lot of humans laughed from her words and expertise. She had to work months as horse´s keeper, until he had the opportunity to show their worth .
But, unlike fanatics with whom lived, Hollycaryn learned to be charismatic, and thanks to that, gradually secured a place in training centers. Her skills in combat were rapidly gaining ground, as if she had been born with a special gift.

Jokum never wanted to be particularly special. But from the moment he was born, his large golden eyes promised a different fate.

Born to parents who were both (apparently) human, Jokum grew up scratching out a meager existence with his tribe, the Breakbones, in the countryside south of Gundrun. His father was a hunter and trapper, like his father before him, and all that Jokum wanted to do was to follow in their footsteps. He was a promising candidate, with a steady aim, a strong arm, a keen eye, and an innate sense of direction. He was a popular boy in town, and had even won the attentions of Nalket, the beautiful raven-haired daughter of Gundrun's "mayor" (though the man was more of a chieftain than a mayor).

His path--if it had ever truly been aligned with that destiny to begin with--veered sharply one day when Jokum witnessed a woodworker, an older man living in Gundrun, spit on his father while his father was trying to broker a deal with him. Jokum's family was hard up--his mother had disappeared six months ago and both father and son were confused and distraught--and in the situation there was nothing for Jokum's father to do but stoically accept the abuse, and continue to try to persuade the man to buy their kills. But Jokum seethed with a desire for revenge.

That night, he sneaked into the woodworker's home, and stole away a gold-headed cane he had seen the man fondling earlier that day. Little did he know that the woodworker had allies powerful and unnatural enough to guarantee retribution. Jokum was apprehended five days later, and awoke finding himself as the centerpiece of a demonic ritual dedicated to Aponavicius, with the woodworker himself holding the knife.

Something went awry, however. Just when Jokum's body should have been torn apart by horrifying demonic energies, it surged with power. As he blacked out, the young man felt a strange sense of comfort, as though he were settling into a huge pile of soft furs. When he awoke, he found himself free of restraints and all the cultists dead, their throats ripped out. He was covered in blood.

Jokum has been on the run and living on his own ever since then. He believes something is terribly, profoundly wrong with him; in his heart of hearts, he believes that he has been corrupted by the demonic forces he was exposed to. The fact that he has hardly aged, physically, over the past fifty years has done little to shift his concerns. And he's nearly right: at the moment of the ritual's completion, his body was bathed in Abyssal energy. But his angelic heritage--a gift not even he knows the full extent of--protected him and, caught between the divine and the demonic, Jokum's soul was rejected by both and became attached to the world itself.

Jokum, of course, has no idea about the truth, and is constantly seeking to punish himself and make amends for what he believes is his own evil nature. He fears the dreams he has of running through the forest as a wolf, or flying through the air as a hawk, believing them to be manifestations of his chaotic, bestial nature. But he has discovered one thing: for whatever reason, he is good at killing demons and other interlopers into reality. Hoping to make amends in the only way he can, he has left his secret guardianship of his father (who is at this point an old man) and struck out for Kenabres...hoping to find some way to confront the demons that did this to him, or some way to unmake himself.

Male Human Druid (Feral Child) 1 
NG Medium Humanoid (Human) 
Init +2; Perception +6 
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 Defense 
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AC 17 hp 11 Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +4
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Offense 
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Speed 30 ft. 
Melee: Unarmed Strike +4 (1d4+3) 
Melee: Grapple +6 
Melee: Quarterstaff +3 (1d8+4)/(2d6+4 Shillelagh) 
Ranged: Ranged: 
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 8, Wis 15, Cha 10 
Base Atk ; CMB 3; CMD 15 
Feats : Improved Unarmed Strike (Class Feature), Improved Grapple, Weapon Focus (Unarmed Strikes) 
Traits: Stolen Fury, Wisdom in the Flesh (Stealth)
 Skills: Acrobatics 6 (2+1+3), Stealth 7 (3+1+3) Handle Animal 4 (0+1+3), Perception 6 (2+1+3), Survival 8 (2+1+3+2),
Languages: Common
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Spells and Special Abilities 
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Nature Sense (Ex) A druid gains a +2 bonus on Knowledge (nature) and Survival checks.
 Wild Empathy (Ex) A druid can improve the attitude of an animal. This ability functions just like a Diplomacy check made to improve the attitude of a person. The druid rolls 1d20 and adds her druid level and her Charisma modifier to determine the wild empathy check result. The typical domestic animal has a starting attitude of indifferent, while wild animals are usually unfriendly. To use wild empathy, the druid and the animal must be able to study each other, which means that they must be within 30 feet of one another under normal conditions. Generally, influencing an animal in this way takes 1 minute but, as with influencing people, it might take more or less time. A druid can also use this ability to influence a magical beast with an Intelligence score of 1 or 2, but she takes a –4 penalty on the check
Weapon and Armor Proficiencies
A feral child loses proficiency with the scimitar, scythe, and sickle and with shields.
 Illiteracy At 1st level, a feral child is unable to read and write, though she may learn by taking 1 rank of Linguistics. She does not gain Druidic as a free language and cannot select Sylvan as a bonus language. 
Improved Unarmed Strike At 1st level, a feral child gains Improved Unarmed Strike as a bonus feat. 
Beast Family (Ex) At 1st level, a feral child may choose one specific type of animal as the type that raised her. She gains a +2 circumstance bonus on Handle Animal and wild empathy checks withanimals of that type, and she can communicate with them as if using a continual speak with animals spell-like ability, but this ability is non-magical. Nature Bond (Ex) At 1st level, a feral child must select an animal companion as her nature bond. 
Little Brother, Nature's Bond Wolf
 Starting Statistics Size Medium; Speed 50 ft.; AC +2 natural armor; Attack bite (1d6 plus trip); Ability Scores Str 13, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6; Special Qualities low-light vision, scent. Spells a Day 0 (3): Stabilize, Guidance, Detect Poison 1 (2): Shillelagh, Calm Animals EQUIPMENT: Lamellar, horn Quarterstaff Backpack 18 GP 

21 gp - Witch's Kit
25 gp - Familiar Satchel
40 gp - Mwk Darkwood Quarterstaff
02 gp - cheap Holy Text (The Book of Magic)
0.5 gp - Blanket
10 gp - Compass
XX gp - Explorer's Outfit

Total: 98.5 gp

Korlin Vrack was but a child during the First Crusade and was captured by demonic cultists for a ritual... He escaped the cultists but his freedom did not last long, as part of the ritual the cultists had infused his body with a demonic poison. He made it back to his village in southern Sarkoris but he died as the poison destroyed his body, he was laid to rest in a small cairn as the tradition of his people dictated... That would be the end of most, death should have been his final fate however it was not. When the Eldest get involved Fate is thrown out the window, even the Mistress of Death and Fate cannot contravene the will and desires of the Eldest, the supreme Lords of the Fey.

Sarkoris was always a dark land with deep connections to the First World and by extension the Eldest, one Eldest in particular holds sway over this land Magdh the Fey Mistress of Fate. It was by her will that Korlin Vrack was raised from the dead to serve the cause of the Fey in the worldwound. Korlin Vrack serves as an extension of Magdh's will and has been granted the eldritch might of the Fey. As he awoke from his slumber in the cairn he heard her whisperings, in particular he heard the title she offered if he succeeded in destroying the worldwound, Witchking a title that had been given only once in Sarkoris's history...

Korlin Vrack has escaped from the worldwound and made his way to Mendev, he has a destiny to fulfill and demons to crush under his boots...

Human (kellid) Magus (Hexcrafter) 1
LN Medium humanoid (human)
Init +4; Senses Perception +0
Defense
AC 14, touch 10, flat-footed 14 (+4 armor,)
hp 9 (1d6+3)
Fort +2, Ref +0, Will +2
Offense
Speed 30 ft.
Melee Longsword +3 (1d8+3/19-20)
Special Ray of Frost 0+, (1d3/19-20)
Magus Spells Prepared (CL 1st; concentration +5)
1st—Color Spray (DC 15), Hydraulic Push
0 (at will)—Mage Hand, Detect Magic and Ray of Frost

Statistics
Str 16, Dex 10, Con 10, Int 18 (16+2), Wis 10, Cha 10
Base Atk +0; CMB +3 (5 against demons); CMD 13 (15 against demons)
Feats Skill Focus (Intimidate) and Combat Expertise
Traits Arcane Revitalization, Stolen Fury, Bruising Intellect, drawback Pride
Skills Knowledge (arcana, dungeoneering, planes) +8, Spellcraft 8+, Use Magic device 4+, Intimidate 11+ and Knowledge (nature) 5+
spells known Shield, Hydraulic Push, Color Spray, Line Breaker, True Strike, Warding Weapon and Unerring Strike
Equipment Chain Shirt, Longsword and 25 gp
Languages Common, Draconic, Sylvan, Abyssal and Elven
SQ Arcana pool 5/5

Quinn “Inktooth” Prable
Pitborn Tielfing Paladin 1
LG Medium outsider (native)
Init +0; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +1
DEFENSE
AC 15, touch 10, flat-footed 15 (+5 armor)
hp 12 (1d10+2)
Fort +4, Ref +0, Will +1
Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft.
Melee bite +5 (1d6+6) or power attack +4 (1d6+9)
Melee masterwork longsword +6 (1d8+6/19-20) or power attack +5 (1d8+9/19-20)
Melee longspear +5 (1d8+6/x3) or power attack +4 (1d8+9/x3)
Ranged shortbow +1 (1d6/x3)
Special Attacks smite evil 1/day
Spell-Like Ability 1/day light (CL 1st)
STATISTICS
Str 18, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 15
Feats Power Attack
Skills Diplomacy +7, Disable Device +2, Knowledge (religion) +4, Perception +1
Languages Abyssal, Common
SQ aura of good, detect evil, exposed to awfulness 1/day, fiendish sorcery
Traits Chosen of Iomedae, Exposed to Awfulness
Gear guardsman’s armor (scalemail), longspear, masterwork longsword, shortbow w/20 arrows
Additional Gear backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, grappling hook w/50 ft. rope, guardsman’s banner, flask (4), flint and steel, soldier’s uniform, trail rations (10), wandermeal (10), waterskin, wooden holy symbol, 19 gp 7 sp 8 cp
Weight 94.5 lbs. (light load)

Chosen of Iomedae: At your birth, your parents dedicated your soul to Iomedae to mold into a sword of her light. The goddess blessed you, granting you a gift of light to brighten your path through the darkness and a fine sword with which to spread her will. You may cast light once per day as a spell-like ability (caster level 1st), and you begin play with a masterwork longsword. In addition, whenever light is cast upon this sword, the radius of light and its duration is doubled.

Exposed to Awfulness: When you were a child, you were nearly slain by a demon that managed to make its way through the wardstones into the lands beyond. The demon was slain before it could kill you, but you lingered at death’s door in a coma for weeks before waking. Ever since then, you’ve been unusually hale and hearty, as if your body had endured its brush with awfulness by becoming supernaturally fit. But still, the scars (whether physical or purely mental) of your brush with death remain, and nightmares of what could have happened often plague your sleep. Something, be it your own personal force of will, some strange “infection” from the assault, or perhaps a combination of both, has made you stronger than before. You’re not sure what to make of the theories that you survived this exposure to awfulness because you yourself have some trace of demonic heritage that helped give you the advantage you needed to survive—but whatever it was, you’re glad for it! Your strange resistance to demonic attacks persists to this day. Once per day when you fail a saving throw against an effect created by a demon that would kill or physically incapacitate you, you can immediately reroll that saving throw as a free action. You must take the second result, even if it is worse. Associated Mythic Path: Guardian. Multiple Characters: You and any others with this trait are related, if only distantly. You could be siblings or cousins—a condition that perhaps lends some credence to the theory that all of you share more than just a common bloodline.

Quinn faded in to consciousness. Moments of lucidity intruded upon the haze of hatred and greed, lust and rage that clouded his mind. He hated the sanity. It was so confusing, so disruptive. The haze was pure, dark and vile and perfect. He ached for the haze again. The awakenings were always painful.

He tried to speak, but the words choked in his throat. He felt like he had swallowed ground shards of glass. His shoulders and wrists burned, and the slightest movement sent lances of pain shooting through his back. He realized after a moment that he was hanging… manacled to the wall and suspended by chains. His eyes were clotted shut. With an effort he forced them open. The light was more painful than hanging.

“Wherrrre…?” he hissed hoarsely. He felt, more than heard, the sudden attention of the others in the room. There were sudden whispers and murmurs all around him… too many to decipher.

“What did you say?” came a hard voice from his right.

Quinn tried to ask again, but his corporeal needs overruled his consciousness and the word came out, “Waterrrrr…” After another eternity of pain, the nozzled end of a waterskin was pressed against his lips. He took his first drink of water in a rush and immediately gagged and retched, blazing pain went through his body as he thrashed in his chains.

A heavy door opened and another voice overwhelmed the others. “What has happened?”

“He’s awake again,” the first voice responded. “He asked for water.”

“Give him some,” the second voice demanded. The nozzle was again pressed against his mouth. “Drink slowly,” the voice insisted. Quinn took a few slow, careful sips and felt his throat begin to loosen. After a few more sips the skin was withdrawn. “What is your name?”

“Quinn.” He could not think of any reason to lie. But, even though it was true, it seemed wrong somehow. He had no name in the haze.

“Do you know where you are?”

“No,” he breathed. He did not know what they wanted from him, but he had no strength to resist an interrogation.

“Do you know where you live?”

In the haze… was the answer. But, when his mouth opened, “Kenabres” spilled out. He frowned. That was true and wrong as well. Suddenly, the haze was gone… burned from his mind by the light, as the morning sun burns the fog off of the meadows… His pain became something real and immediate. He whimpered as he hung limp in his chains. “Where am I? What has happened to me?”

There was silence for a long moment. “You are in the temple at Kenabres, the catacombs to be precise. We have held you here for nearly four weeks. Do you remember the fight in which you were wounded?”

The temple. Kenabres. The fight. Four weeks!? “No… no… I don’t remember.” But, that was not true. Bits and pieces of the past began to pierce the darkness in his memory. A cultist and his familiar. The sergeant and his fellow soldiers. The battle was quick, the traitor brought low. He was wounded, but not seriously. Then… the haze… he squirmed. Something insidious longed for the haze. Something deep inside of him. He fought back. The pain helped clear his mind.

“There was some kind of demon. Something we’ve never seen before,” the second voice stated. “It poisoned you with its own blood. The reaction was… terrible.” The blurriness was clearing. His sergeant stood before him, some soldiers and acolytes, as well as a temple priest. The cleric continued speaking. “We could not remove the poison. We couldn’t even slow it down. You’ve been in and out of consciousness. Do you remember anything?”

Only the haze… “Only the nightmares.”

“I’m not surprised. You should know… the demon-blood had some dramatic effects-” the sergeant grabbed the cleric and spun him away. There was a quick and vicious whispered argument, but the priest waved him off. “He needs to know! Quinn, we’re not sure that you are still entirely human…”

Khartak's family had lived in Nerosyan since before the time of the first crusade. Originally expatriated artisans from Highelm the industrious dwarves thrived in an important port city like Nerosyan of old. Things didn't change with the worlwound opening and the crusader's influx into Mendev. On the contrary the dwarves even increased their considerable wealth shifting their focus from luxury goods to weapons and armor in service of the crusaders who quickly found out that faith and dedication were all very well but a couple of feet of dwarven steel were even better when driven between a demon's horns.

Karthak early life was what could be expected for a young and wealthy dwarf, even in a town on the edge of the Abyss itself there were lots of things to do and pleasures to enjoy. The dwarf didn't mind the demons too much: they were kept in check by the ward stones and after all they were directly responsable for Karthak's clan good fortunes.

Obviously Karthak didn't realize the true nature of the worldwound, and worse he didn't consider what kind of recompense could be expected by understimating demons. He discovered all these unpleasant truths when, as a youth who had seen less than 30 winters he was kidnapped by cultists of the foul creatures and prepared for ritual sacrifice. This would have probably been the first and last lesson in the young dwarfs life if it weren't for some strange twist of fate or maybe for the will of a benignat deity. Something in the ritual failed. The cultists ended sacrificing themselves instead of their victim. And Karthak was deeply changed by the experience, coming out of the ritual chamber were he was meant to die as a driven dwarf, fully convinced Torag himself had shielded him from harm despite his frivolous ways.

The same night Karthak left his clan's hold in Nerosyan and traveled to Highelm were he joined one of the most militant groups of Torag's faithful, rapidly finding his call as an inquisitor, specialized in ferretting out enemy agents and dealing with spellcasters.

But the dwarf always saw his training just as a first necessary step in a longer journey, he always meant to return to Mendev and bring the righteous wrath of Torag upon deomns and their ilk. He was just making plans for returning home, when he learned about Stauton Vahne's betrayal. Discovering even dwarves, the true sons of Torag, could be corrupted by the forces of the Abyss Karthak was particularly incensed and immediately swore an holy vow of venegance before Torag and his ancestors, he would bring the dwarven traitor before justice or die while trying. It was armed with this steely determination that he started the long jorney towards Mendev and his destiny

Karthak is serious and gruff. He doesn't like idle talk, he doesn't like frivolous pastimes and he doesn't trust anyone but himself and possibly some other faithfuls of Torag. Karthak is a very driven dwarf, he has a goal and little else counts in his view but avenging the fallen and punishing the wicked. He harbors a special hatred for demonic cultists, as, in his view Demons are abominations by nature (and thus deserving of extermination) but those who choose to serve them are infinitely WORSE as the decide to give themselves and their fellows up in exchange of some mad dream of power. To get rid of these kind of people Karthak will likely do to almost any lengths.
That said Karthak respects courage and strength, and prides himself as being able to aknowledge other people's daring acts in service of good. Karthak has a very precise idea of what Torag expects of him and the reason he thinks he was spared from the cultists all those years ago, and he thinks he exists to punish the wicked. He might very well be shocked to find out Torag is not only keen on good craftmanship and protecting the innocents but also about giving those who make a mistake a second chance. All things considered Karthak could find himself shocked to learn he still has a place for forgiveness in his hearth

Karthak is rather high for a dwarf. He's well muscled and sports a proud red beard and matching hair. He has deep and chillingly blue eyes, that always seem to silently evalutate people around him, often founding them wanting.

Somewhere near the Worldwound, a small village was left unprotected on the wrong day. A horde of demons came through and began murdering everything in sight. It was in the aftermath that a pack of wolves happened upon the scene. The last member of the town was a mere baby, bawling as the demons argued over who would eat him. Something struck the pack, whether it was the child's wails or the innate evil of the demons, and they quickly snatched the baby away as the demons argued and fought. They raised the human boy as one of their own, and he learned much of the ways of the wild. But the story of his origins always stuck with him, and he was curious about other humanoids. Upon the day he set out from his pack with his Little Brother in tow, he traveled until he found a human settlement. He struggled to learn the strange human language, but he learned the world "demon" fast. Eventually he found out about the Crusaders working to stop the demons. He decided this should be his next pack.

The stat block remains the same, except for changing the Birthmark trait to Riftwarden Orphan. This removes her +2 bonus against charm and compulsion and grants her a +2 bonus to concentration checks.

The equipment held by Tess is as follows:

21 gp - Witch's Kit
25 gp - Familiar Satchel
0 gp - Quarterstaff
02 gp - cheap Holy Text (The Book of Magic) formerly her mother's
10 gp - Compass
0.5 gp - Blanket
10 gp - Journal Her mother's; half-filled
XX gp - Explorer's Outfit
Total: 68.5 gp

Remaining: 37.5 gp

Tesseract Squires always was a sheltered girl. She was born with a spiraling pattern of purple blemishes on the right side of her face- a birthmark that no salve could seem to lighten, no pigment could hope to conceal. Her parents had suffered some strange fate, leaving her in the care of foster parents that had once surely been trusted allies, but had since become weary of the toll the Crusades were taking in Kenabres.

Tess's foster father, Karl, blamed the girl's "disfigurement" on her parents' interest in magic and the arcane. He was superstitious, as many were in those days, and feared the magic that (he believed) had caused no end of agony to those towns unfortunate enough to be near the Worldwound. Her foster mother Linnae had been close friends with Tess's mother, and often busied herself with her work in other rooms on the occasions that Karl went off on his rants about the "devil-worshipp'n hethurns" who must've called down whatever misfortune currently plagued their city. When Tess got old enough to work alongside her, Linnae told her stories of her mother and their girlhood together. Yes, she had dabbled in some magic or another, the woman remarked. "But there weren't no harm innit. Usually just small stuff; fix'n a wound faster than it should'a healed, gett'n the pig pens clean'r inna moment than you'd've been able teh if you'd spent all day." Linnae was responsible for teaching Tess to read, and had given her a few treasured books of her mother's on her birthday... What she didn't realize (or would never admit to knowing) was that some of the books she bestowed upon Tess were her mother's old books on sorcery and spellcraft. The girl was entranced by them all, but especially by a holy text of the god Nethys- The Book of Magic. When she saw the icon of his face, darkened on the very same side as hers, the girl felt camaraderie the likes of which she had never known.

But another of the books intrigued her even further- this one handwritten, with detailed drawings and rows of words carefully lined on the page... It was a journal kept by her mother. She couldn't understand most of it, as age and poor keeping had lightened the ink and softened the pages, but Tess found sketches of a spiraling mark that seemed to trace the same curves as the blemish on her face. It appeared that the mark had been found on other infants, the children of people her parents had known. All were born of a certain group of people- the Riftwardens?- who had drawn too near to the Worldwound and been affected by a magic from planes unknown. As she read, she traced the angry mark with the tips of her fingers, wondering once more what had befallen her parents.

Linnae was uncomfortable when Tess pressed her for answers one evening after supper. She kept glancing out the window to make sure Karl was otherwise occupied- "Yes, yes, the Riftwardens... However did yeh hear of a thing like that? Well, yer mum an' dad- an' he was sweet to her, know that- anyway, she always told me she was want'n to practice what she'd been readin' about, an' he had heard of some troubles near the Worldwound. When hasn't there been trouble there, I'd like teh know. But they left awful sudden and when they came back, she was pregnant and he was tryin' teh make sure she had all the proper things to keep 'er healthy. Ta keep yeh both healthy. But almost as soon as yeh came out they were visited by some men in cloaks and she handed yeh off to me. Said she'd be back soon, but the Riftwardens had needed her one last time...." The woman suddenly straightened, snapping out of the daze of memories, and glanced out the window hurriedly. "Finish yer chores," she muttered, as Karl clattered back into the house.

It wasn't very much longer after that that Tess began dreaming of a wild fox kit. In her dreams it appeared alongside black-eyed daisies in a meadow, or underneath a sky filled with thunderclouds and sunlight, or batting at a black-and-white pinwheel she held above it as a toy. These dreams always ended abruptly, more than once with the feeling that she had stepped wrongly and fallen through a trapdoor.

And then one morning she saw the kit- the very same kit!- patiently sitting near the back door, merely watching her through the doorframe, waiting for her. Hesitantly Tess stepped outside, expecting it to run at any moment, but when it did turn to walk, it stopped as if to make sure she was coming. Tess followed the kit to the outskirts of town, just past the blockades. There she sat with the kit, and began to feel a mysterious power inside her. As she played with the kit, letting it bat a string from her skirt, the power intensified- and suddenly the string was emitting light!

Tess has begun communing with the kit daily, practicing the simple tricks the fox has granted her, but her foster parents have noticed her extended absences with worry, and she thinks a guard may have followed her more than once. While she has no doubt that Linnae would defend her to the death, she's painfully aware that witches are not looked upon kindly in Kenabres- least of all by Karl. She has begun secretly putting some gear in order, for she feels she cannot stay here much longer.

Since there's a witch hunt on, I had the idea that Tess would carry a "spellbook" to attempt to throw off suspicion. Also, when she opened it to "prepare" spells in the morning, her fox would lay on it like a cat on a keyboard.

I may or may not be wrong, but I don't think you can afford the mwk darkwood staff. The darkwood material adds 10 gp per pound to a mwk version of the item, which for a quarterstaff would be 300 gp since it is free by default.

The Kellid people of the Torn Fangs tribe could not call the Worldwound their home. Not while it festered with the spawn of the Abyss. The Torn Fangs was but one of many tribes seeking to liberate their long-lost homeland, the realm of Sarkoris. The never-ending battle with the relentless demon hordes was a brutal affair, one that required every man and woman to take up arms. In the end, strength was all that truly mattered. There was however, a cost to constantly fighting within the demonic wastes – there ever existed the threat of corruption by demonic power, a taint many knew to capable of turning men into beasts. Into demons. Many bore the scars that the affliction often bore. Unborn Delkka’s mother was among the less fortunate ones. On the slow, painful path to mutilation that she approached, all knew that she would perish. It was a shock to all when, in her death throes, she gave birth to a healthy, untainted daughter.

Delkka’s seemingly miraculous birth did not lower her tribe’s expectations of her. If anything, they expected more. On the long path to womanhood, she did not disappoint them. Even as a child, with a blade she proved to be as fearsome as a grown man. She was not even of her teen years when she went on her first hunt for food, a task nearly as dangerous as hunting the demons themselves. And even as the years went on, never once did she show signs of malformation by the demonic taint. Some looked to her as a symbol of hope. Others began to wonder if she was even truly human. One thing, however, was absolute. Skilled as she was, Delkka was untested – she had yet to kill a demon with her own hands. On her fifteenth year, she and her kin went on a hunt for this very purpose. As time would prove however, her people were not the only ones that had been watching her.

Scouting the wastes was always a dangerous prospect, but with Delkka on their side, her fellow tribesmen believed that their success was assured. Proud Delkka never once considered the possibility of failure. Confident in their strength, they were not prepared to face guile. Far from their kin, the hunting party was led right into a trap. Within moments they were surrounded, not by demons, but by humans. The Torn Fangs fought savagely, but their disadvantage was too great. One by one they fell, until only Delkka remained. She fought to her very last breath, intending to die fighting, but she soon succumbed to fatigue. Her assailants had other things in store for her.

The defeated Delkka was taken far from her people, to a place that her captors had long prepared in anticipation. Tightly bound, she could do nothing as she was marked with ritualistic cuts, and anointed with what could only be blood. All the while, robed men recited long incantations in bizarre tongues, calling out to a power that she could not begin to comprehend. For the first time in her life, she felt utterly helpless. An eternity seemed to pass before finally, a blade was thrust into her. In that moment, something surged through her. That energy flooded all throughout her, threatening to pierce deep into her very soul. But instead, something came out.

Suddenly overwhelmed by an immense rage, Delkka’s fear evaporated. Effortlessly breaking her bindings and pulling out the sword used on her, she turned it on the cultist responsible and butchered him. As far as she was concerned, he was nothing more than another wretched demon spawn. Amidst the confusion and dissention caused by their apparent failure, Delkka fled, cutting down those that crossed her path. With the rage flowing through her like this, she felt unstoppable. But as she ran, and as the rage began to fade, the fear soon returned. She returned to her people days later, alone, haunted and broken. No longer was she revered as a paragon. She had failed. Soon after, Delkka left her tribe, feeling that something – the ritual, perhaps – had changed her. She resolved to find her own answers, and to fight her own battles.

Over a decade has passed, since then. Separated from her tribe, Delkka became more worldly, growing to learn that there was a world beyond the hell she had been raised in. Perhaps one that was worth protecting. Nightmares about the ritual plagued her each night, making her question if it had given her some kind of purpose. Having long-abandoned the foolish hope of reclaiming Sarkoris, Delkka had moved to face the Worldwound from the opposite front – the nation of Mendev. Driven by little more than a hatred of demonkind, she travels to Kenabres, seeking to enlist in the Crusade.

Female human (Kellid) totem warrior 1
CN Medium humanoid (human)
Init +2; Senses Perception +4
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DEFENSE
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AC 16, touch 12, flat-footed 14 (armor +4, Dex +2)
hp 15 (1d12+3)
Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +0
Immune sleep
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OFFENSE
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee greatsword +4 (2d6+4/19-20) or greatsword +3 (2d6+7/19-20)
Ranged sling +3 (1d4+3/x2)
Special Attacks rage (6 rounds/day)
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STATISTICS
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Str 17, Dex 14, Con 15, Int10, Wis 11, Cha 10
Base Atk +1; CMB +3 (+5 against demons); CMD 15
Feats Power Attack, Raging Vitality
Skills Acrobatics +6, Climb +7, Perception +4, Survival +4, Swim +7
Traits Stolen Fury, Armor Expert
Languages Common, Hallit
Combat Gear greatsword, sling, sling bullets (20), hide armor
Other Gear traveler’s outfit, backpack, belt pouch, blanket, flint and steel, iron pot, soap, torches (10), trail rations (5), waterskin, barbarian chew (5), silk rope (50 feet), grappling hook
Assets 14 gp, 8 sp
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Fast Movement (Ex) Base land speed is increased by 10 feet while wearing light, medium or no armor.
Rage (Ex) As a free action, can enter a rage for a total of 6 rounds each day. While in rage, gains a +4 morale bonus to Strength and a +6 morale bonus to Constitution (3 bonus hit points), as well as a +2 morale bonus on Will saves. In addition, takes a -2 penalty to Armor Class. While in rage, cannot use Charisma-, Dexterity- or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride), or any abilities that require patience or concentration. Can end rage as a free action, and is fatigued for a number of rounds equal to 2 times the number of rounds spent in rage. Cannot enter rage while fatigued.

A long time ago, one goblin chief decided that having his tribe live near the land of the demons would make life fun and exciting, and that they would stand to gain much by making themselves friends of the so called mean ones. Of these predictions, only one came to pass: By the goblins’ insane standards, the frequent brush with demons were, indeed, exciting.

Still, too prideful to flee their camps, the Gnawhorns were dead set on keeping their village, even against the monstrosities that came upon them on a near daily basis. Every day, some would keep watch upon the border for the approach of the mean ones, while others scavenged the nearby human encampment to pilfer what holy relics and weapons they could find to help fight their opressors, much to the woe of the inhabitants of those bastions of good.

One fateful night, however, a band of cultists took note of the village, and decided they would have some fun with the goblins therein. The many warriors of the tribe retorted with blades and stones, chasing the cultists off. Foolishly, they tracked the heretics across the border of the Worldwound, where a number of them were overwhelmed by the cultist's dark magics and made captive.

Had it not been for the intervention of a mysterious woman and her glittering symbol, they would surely had met their deaths... or worse.

Word came out to the crusade that the Gnawhorns too suffered from fiendish woes. Soon, some suggested trying to make allies with the tribe. Perhaps the goblin's wild nature, shaman magic, and talent for stealth and tricky warfare could be a boon in the war against the demons.

The leader of the village refused the peace offerings at first, until one day, a group of Cayden Cailean's priests came to the village, bearing not words of peace, but many offerings of delicious meat and several barrels of ale and wine.

Their bellies full and riding the joy of a great celebration, the Gnawhorns were far easier to convince. The leader shook hands with the chief of the Cailean envoys, and accepted to give his tribe's backing to the crusade, under the conditions that, in turn, they be given weapons and food regularly, and that, once everything was over and the demons were dealt with, they be granted a fine domain to call their own, where the tall men would not bother them.

With those terms agreed to, the crusade began finding goblins in its ranks, serving as scouts and skirmishers, and while their presence occasionally caused issues, it became clear that, well-fed and motivated, the Gnawhorns made fine allies of fortune.

One of these many goblins was Trazzle Birdgobbler, a member of the goblin leader's personal guard. He and his mate, Ratha Henplucker, had been of the number captured by the cultists; she had been slain before their rescue, and Trazzle found fury in that fact. He was determined to make sure that the mean ones would pay dearly for it.

This drive and motivation, as well as his talents in stealth and beast-riding, made him an excellent scout, putting him on the front lines quite regularly.

As the campaign begins, that is his role, scouting where the crusade needs sharp eyes, and warning of upcoming demon attacks. Where this will lead him, only time will tell.

- Starting at first level.
- 20pt buy with no stats above 20 or below 8 after racial traits.
- 2 traits (one of which must be from the Player's Guide for WotR).
- Starting wealth is the average for you class.
- Max hit points for first level.
- 1 Archetype allowed per class. Even for Multi class.
- I'm willing to have a look at any of the core races and some other races if I like the concept. (Aasimars, Catfolk, Ifrit, Oread, Sylph, Tengu, Tiefling, Kitsune)
- No summoners (Sorry but I've had way too many bad experiences with this guy)

Core Rule Book
Advanced Player's Guide
Ultimate Magic
Ultimate Combat
Ultimate Campaign
Advanced race Guide (Previously listed races only)
Mythic Adventures
Adventure's Armory
Faith of Purity
Faiths of Balance
Blood of Angels
Blood of Fiends
Inner Sea Primer
Knights of the Inner Sea
Demon Hunter's Handbook
Mythic Origins
Gods and Magic
Inner Sea Magic
Inner Sea World Guide
Paths of Prestige
Seekers of Secrets
Champions of Purity
Ultimate Equipment items are subject to approval on a case by case basis unless they appear in another approved source.