Way of the Wicked by GM SnowHeart (Inactive)

Game Master SnowHeart

It wasn't the consorting with devils that had gotten the Lady Barad in jail. It wasn't the midnight campaigns trying to turn the other nobles against the rule of the king. Not the slave traders she had allowed to use her estate, not the cold blooded murder plans she had been making in order to knock off her rivals, not even her worship of the archduke of propaganda... no, it was a pamphlet. Not even a good pamphlet, just something she had worked on with a few co-conspirators in an attempt to rouse the populous against the current king. Five years, and they finally caught her because some fool ratted her out for leniency, lot of good that had done him.

The good lady descended from a long line of northern nobles, people who had built their fortunes in the days of Asmodeus' reign. She had been raised on stories about ambitious tyrants and wealth beyond counting, as well as the family secret art of summoning devils. A woman of means and stature, of prestige and grace. Everything had been going so well.

Now she was reduced to sitting in a jail cell, waiting the headman's justice. All of her plans wasted because of a youthful mistake.

Devil Eidolon
Alignment: Lawful evil.

Base Form(s): Biped (claws, limbs [arms], limbs [legs]).

Base Evolutions: Starting at 1st level, devil eidolons gain the resistance (fire) evolution and the skilled (Bluff) evolution. They also gain a +4 bonus on saving throws against poison.

Starting Statistics: Size Medium; Speed 30 ft.; AC 13; Saves Fort +3, Ref +1, Will +2; Attack 2 claws (1d4); Ability Scores Str 16, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 11. BAB +1 Hp 5

Evolution
Skilled (Sense Motive)

Skills
Bluff 1 rank 15
Diplomacy 1 rank 1
Sense Motive 1 rank 12
Perception 1 rank 4

Feat
Skill Focus (Bluff)

“You’re him.” The voice was coarse but the man couldn’t contain his surprise. Gallen drew himself up from leaning against the cell wall though his muscles ached and made a wry smile, “Who would that be my new friend?”

“You tried to kill the young Prince and-” before the man could continue Gallen let out a snort though his longs cried out in pain, if not for the darkness there surely his new cell mate would have seen him wince. Gallen licked his lips in a vain attempt to moisten their cracked surface “I didn’t try to kill anyone, not yet anyway. I wouldn’t kill him anyway, that would be wrong.” He wagged a filth covered finger for emphasis.” The man peered accross the dim, small space between them, waiting a moment before speaking “But the guards they said you were going to try and kill young Prince.”

Gallen held up a hand “I think you’ve been quite misinformed about me, my good- appollogies I neglected to ask your name, what is it?” The newcomer hesitated, his mother always told him names had power and mages could twist them to their advantage but seeing as where they both were it would make little difference for much longer. “I’m called Gregor.”

Gallen ran a grimy hand through his hair “Well Gregor, I’m just trying to write a great wrong. I’d rather not bring the boy into it but I needed the edge to perform my duty. My associates weren’t going to harm the boy, I just required a lock of his hair. A small thing indeed but I had hoped in the coming years to put it to good use, leverage to gather more- useful objects. It’s a long term plan, I admit it would have taken a few decades, I might have had to pass it down to my own children… if I had a bit more time to have a few that is. They call it a conspiracy, they claim I set up a cult to incite treason. It’s all lies, of course, they won’t listen to me long enough to realise that, they either just hit me or call me mad and stop listening.”

Gregor inched a little further away, no small task in the enclosed space. “Nothing to be afraid of Gregor, if I didn’t have you I’d have no company. No I am an uncomfortable reminder of truths they wish burried with me. Firstly I didn’t set up the cults, I just looked for them and tried to give them some hope, some direction. Now the one I had the most influence over had my departed associates in it, Mephistopheles and his followers are a lot more cunning and discrete than our countrymen give them credit for. I wasn’t trying to start any treasonous activity, but infact trying to put and end to treasonous activities. I can see by your confused look my good man I’ve lost you. Time for a little history lesson.”

“As you know doubt know House Barca once ruled, but they became decadent and corrupt. You know this I know, I’ll get to the point. The Victor arose and he did some much needed cleaning house, they had become weak and the new order was better for a time. Then came the Learned of course, the Eldest but no true interest and was derelict in his duties. No denying it we must see these things warts and all. But the next parts going to contain a few truths for you, Gregor so listen well, Hallen, the Mad-” Gallen lets out a whistle and a laugh “who was succeeded by Marcus the Zealous, son of the Learned. Stop and think about that for a second. Marcus did not succeed his father, who as the stories claim was killed by Hallen. This sounds very odd. No five months after the King dies his son claims the throne after his uncle has an accident. Doesn’t it strike you as odd that the line of succession has become so messy hear and that there’s been a lot of accidents in the family? One mad son, these things happen. But righteous Paladins sworn to uphold the law help him on his way and find a speedy end to his reign… there’s something missing. I’m going to tell you one of the biggest secrets of the state.”

Gallen leans forward conspiratorially “Marcus the Zealous was not the son of the Learned. I mean if he had been he would have suceeded his father, according to the history books a mad man with a flaming sword killed his brother and they chose him to be the King over the man’s son and heir? Hallen claimed Mithra guided him, a man everyone admits was somewhat imbalanced. Then his successor who was previously overlooked comes forward becomes known as the Zealous, bans worship of Asmodeus and exalts Mithra. The Church of Asmodeus was the cause of Hallen’s poor mental health. The Church of Asmodeus who at that time was not particularly populous or powerful? Or did this young man who claimed to be the son of Martius need a scape goat that was at the time neither powerful or populous enough to be a big problem.” Gallen drew closer to Gregor who had nowhere to hide from him and his uncomfortable truths now “Or did a powerful group throw their lot behind a man they believed they could manipulate and control, a man who needed help not meddling and when they found him growing more unstable they either created an heir from scratch in a son who was previously overlooked for succession or if there was a child in the first place they used there influence to push a mentally infirm man into a position that made his condition worse? Whats the common thread, Mithra and his paladins, the power behind the throne. A good purge can root out anyone who raises an objection, you just need an excuse like a small church possessing your King with a demon, something I am sure over the course of five months one of the Paladins of Mithra who so valiantly guarded him to his doom would have noticed.”

“My father told me of those times, he was young but he remembered quite a bit, painful memories but he was sure to instill the essence of the emotion into me before he died. How his father a kind but troubled man was pushed beyond reason by them. His mother barely got him out of the capital after Halen met with an accident. Now you’re doubting me, I wasn’t there but he told me the tales and my grandmother, old as she was backed him up and filled in the details to me he was too young to remember. She wasn’t too close to the ruling side of things but King Hallen took her to bed and married her, he performed the ceremony himself. Sadly there is no paperwork and granny did admit she was not the only wife Halen took in secret in this fashion but none of the others got out of the capital before the purge. I could have just put the tales down to the ramblings of those who had seen too much in their time but even the facts made public make no sense. It is my duty to remove the insidious treasonous cancer that festers in the throneroom of this country. I have no crown, or scepter, no treasury or armies to back my claim but I have the truth and unlike those who stand and claim to be my betters I can go to my grave knowing even if I have not succeeded I gave it my all. I am not Gallen Baran of the Heartland, I am Gallen of House Darius, true heir and rightful ruler of Talingarde.” Seeing the fear in Gregors eyes Gallen made a placating gesture. “Apologies, my nerves are frayed and I am weary. I have watched men and women die I called friend, I would not lie and call them good but they had conviction, surely that counts for something. I will not be shackled by the illusions of the followers of Mithra that have clouded the minds of my ancestors, I have clarity, even if you put no stock in my heritage and we did just meat in unfortunate circumstance so I will forgive you for that, consider the history you have been indoctrinated in, see the lies Gregor, question the inconsistencies and ask yourself, what if I am right?”

Arcanist
Race: Human (Chellish) Alignment: Neutral Evil Favoured Deity: Mephistopheles
Str 10, Dex 14, Con 13, Wis 12, Int 18, Cha 14
HP: 8, AC: 12, Fort: +1=+0+1, Ref +2=+0+2, Will 4=+2+1+1

Traits: Hedge Magician, Dueling Unto Death
Feats: Fast Learner, Skill Focus (Spellcraft)* -From Focused Study Alternate Human Racial
Exploit: Potent Magic
Arcane Reservoir: 4/3

Level 1 Spells Known: Grease, Mage Armour, Identify, Magic Missile, Floating Disk, Shield, Unseen Servant

Languages: Common, Infernal, Celestial, Abyssal, Goblin, Sylvan

Spells Prepared:
Cantrips:- Light, Detect Magic, Mage Hand, Prestidigation
1st Level:- Mage Armour, Grease

Spells Slots:
1st Level: 3/3

Skill: -Arcane +8, -Engineering +8, -Ge,ography +8 -History +8, -Nobility +8, -Planes +8, -Religion +8, Linguistics +8, Profession: Farmer +5, Spellcraft +11

Gren Spoorlust
Daemon-spawn tiefling gunslinger (mysterious stranger) 1 (Pathfinder Player Companion: Blood of Fiends
19, Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 264, Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Combat 9, 51)
NE Medium outsider (native)
Hero Points 1
Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +3
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Defense
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AC 14, touch 14, flat-footed 10 (+4 Dex)
hp 12 (1d10+2)
Fort +4, Ref +6, Will -1; +1 trait vs. divine spells, +2 trait bonus against fear while you have a firearm
drawn
Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Special Attacks deeds (deadeye, focused aim, gunslinger's dodge), grit (2)
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +3)
1/day—death knell (DC 14)
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 9, Cha 15
Base Atk +1; CMB +1; CMD 15
Feats Gunsmithing, Point-Blank Shot
Traits armed grit, desecration
Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +6, Craft (alchemy) +6, Intimidate +6, Knowledge (engineering) +6, Knowledge
(local) +6, Perception +3, Sleight of Hand +10, Survival +3; Racial Modifiers +2 Sleight of Hand
Languages Abyssal, Common, Dwarven, Infernal
SQ gunsmith, hero points
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Special Abilities
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Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white only).
Deeds Use Grit to perform special abilities with your firearms.
Energy Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Cold attacks.
Energy Resistance, Electricity (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Electricity attacks.
Energy Resistance, Fire (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Fire attacks.
Grit (Ex) Gain a pool of points that are spent to fuel deeds, regained on firearm crit/killing blow.
Gunsmith Gain free starting firearm that only you can use properly.
Gunsmithing You can use a gunsmithing kit to craft/repair firearms and ammo.
Hero Points Hero Points can be spent at any time to grant a variety of bonuses.
Point-Blank Shot +1 to attack and damage rolls with ranged weapons at up to 30 feet.

Hair: Salt and Pepper
Eyes: Blue
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 150lb

You see a well-groomed man with short-cropped gray hair. His eyes are a deep blue, with small flecks of silver near the iris. His skin is fair and pale, indicating northern ancestry. He has small freckles on his nose, high cheek bones, and a strong jaw. Despite his prisoner's rags, he holds himself dignified and aloof. He is tall, with a lanky frame and straight posture.

Virgil was born the third son of a viscount in a coastal trading city south of Daveryn. Which viscount and which city are of little importance. All you need to know is that the family already had their heir-and-a-spare, and had little use for Virgil. He was purposely steered away from leadership, and received none of the grooming in politics, trade, and stewardship bestowed on his brothers. Virgil was encouraged to develop scholarly pursuits, with the intent that someday he would serve the family admirably as a barrister or an accountant.

Virgil did not accept their mediocre goals. How could he? His ambition would not allow it. He used his endowment to hire sages, tutors, and weaponmasters to train and educate him. He spent his daylight hours in rigorous study and practice. If his family would only offer him a life of drab indolence, then he was determined to make his mark elsewhere. Perhaps as a mercenary or an adventurer, where his skills and courage would determine his success rather than the whims of his family. His activities drew the scorn of his brothers and chastisement from his parents, but ultimately they were content to leave him be. After all, he was not the heir, and could be indulged his hobbies.

After several more years of training, Virgil thought himself ready to set out on his own. He made his farewells, such as they were, arranged his affairs, and packed his bags. He was determined to set out for the Borderlands and find fame and fortune with his sword. However, fate dealt him a different hand. He had been watched for the past several months by patient and observant eyes. Eyes that saw potential and ambition. That night as he slept in bed, he awoke with a start at a hand on his shoulder. Three men stood over him in black robes trimmed with crimson. Only one of them spoke. Virgil recognized the voice of the house stablemaster, but the familiar servility was gone and replaced by a voice calm and powerful. The man told him that he had been watched, weighed, and found worthy of service -- service to a master who would reward him for his talent and courage. A master who saw the burning desire for power in his heart. A master who could elevate him above his brothers on a whim. A dark, and terrible master. Asmodeus.

Virgil felt red-hot truth sear his heart. His mind filled with visions, promises of glory. He fell to his knees and proclaimed himself ready for service. That very night the house stablemaster initiated Virgil into the cult of Asmodeus, and his first task was the kill the family priest of Mitra in his sleep.

The old priest was the first of many to die at his hand. Virgil was subtle and well-spoken, and used his tongue and family standing to open doors that brute force could not. After his ninth victim -- a nosy lieutenant in the town guard who patrolled near their secret altar too frequently -- Virgil was ready for formal induction. Nine victims, nine circles of Hell, and he had earned his reward. He was inducted as a templar of Asmodeus, a blackguard. His head was anointed with the blood of his nine victims, he intoned the prayer he dutifully memorized, and dark energy flooded his soul. He was reborn.

Unfortunately, Virgil's new service lasted less than a week. His last victim had been the favorite nephew of a Knight of Alerion, and keen minds began to notice a pattern to recent deaths in the city. They smelled diabolism. None other than Sir Balin of Karfeld was sent to investigate. Against such experience and power, Virgil's local cell stood little chance. They were found, arrested, tried, and condemned to death within three day's of the inquisitor's arrival.

In short order, Virgil was stripped of his titles (little that they were), disowned by his family, and loaded on a wagon bound south for Branderscar Prison. Alone. The other members of his cell were executed in the public square with little preamble. But Virgil? Virgil was a member of the gentry. His was a life of privilege and great expectations. He was supposed to be an example to the people! His death would require ignominy to serve as a cautionary tale to the faithful.

Despite the loud pronouncements of his guilt and impending doom in his home town, his journey to Branderscar was uneventful and quiet. No gloating or mocking, the guards considered him already dead. He arrived at the prison, was processed quickly, and found himself in a prison cell with several others. Slated to burn at the stake for heresy. Despite his grim predicament, he was filled with confidence. His service to Asmodeus, though brief, had been faithful and heartfelt. He could face his master with pride. Though, if by chance, the days of his service were extended... he would welcome the chance to again wield his sword in the Darkfather's service.

Eustachia Ha'Zouk was always a bit naïve, a bit more than even those of sub-average wisdom of the Kasatha...though what she lacked in common sense, she made up very much in book smarts. Always sharp in anything scholastic, it was said her wit could challenge the most enigmatic of riddles handed out by a Sphinx-though she would probably be somehow taken for a fool by some carefully hidden fine print and find herself devoured anyways-which, from a strictly utilitarian point of view, wouldn't have been seen as much of a tragedy-given the fact she was of no use with a bow (or anything else the clan found of constructive use.) "Heck, she can't even get something as useless as the sorcery that runs through her family right!"

Finally coming of age, she was old enough to travel into the city for the annual stockpiling of those supplies not accessible in the wilderness. "Maybe she will finally find a way to be useful (and out 0f our hair for awhile)...right!"As luck would have it, a travelling gypsy circus/sideshow was doing an extended stint in town, and , as time permitted for such dalliances, the clan attended. With all its promises of oddities and wonders she was all attention. It was amusing, yes, but what really caught her attention was the magician. A very charismatic Alchemist Homonculist, originally hailing from Talingrad, with an amazing knack for performance magic and an adorably gnarly homonculus named JoJo, dazzled and amazed her. She had to know how he did it and where she could get one of those cute little buggers, as not even the sorcerers in her family clan (as few as they were) ever took a familiar. Using her ability for talking her way into things, she was able to wriggle her way inside the living quarters of Darcon Blantz aka "The Great Jhambini."

Taken by her sharp wit, exotic demographic, and all too trusting nature, Jhambini, offered to mentor her. Being mere days until her "tempering" started, a special, albeit rushed and improvised ceremony was held, and she was released into the tutelage of the alchemist. A diligent and benevolent scamp was Jhambini-quick to satisfy her vibrant thirst for the alchemical arts in such a manner that, possibly to her disservice, exemplified the kinder-natured side of the outside world. Of course, she took to it like an Undine to water and soon had her own little "pet" Toto hopping around her.

Happiness was not to last, though. A thuggish adventuring party, hired to collect the sizeable debt owed by the travelling (or running as it may be) "magician," soon caught up. Establishing a base in an abandoned building on the seedier side of town, the party went to work. Casing the circus, they found out where Jhambini bought his alchemical reagents. The party then took the shopkeepers family hostage, forcing him to tell the magician that an exclusive trader was in town that dealt in exotic and expensive, and possibly not so legal reagents-"Which is why he had to set up shop in such an undesirable location."

Maybe it was the solid reputation the shopkeeper held, or the rapport he held with the magician, and yet, maybe it was being around such an innocent being that made Darcon Blantz fall hook, line and sinker. Excitedly gathering the lions share of the wealth he had been accumulating over the years, the alchemist told his assistant to come with him on a special outing. With this, he thought, he could introduce Eustacia to a taste of the softer...the softest side even, of a not-so-legal way of things. Maybe he could show her that life is not always a kind and idealistic place "it's supposed to be." Maybe this is the way he could start hardening her around the edges just enough so she wouldn't be taken so easily in times he couldn't be there for her.

And so they reached their destination, an abandoned spices warehouse in the low-traffic area of the port, the perfect place to set up a low-profile exchange...or in this case an ambush. greeted by "the trader and his dashing, yet bumbling assistant, " the overly anxious Jhambini was led to the back office "so the adults could talk" where he was easily caught flat-footed and quietly assassinated.

Left behind with the assistant, the all-too-naïve apprentice was soon lulled into a false sense of security. Addressed with the query, "And by what name would such a fetching young creature go by?"she would say her birth-given first name for the last time..."Eustacia."

"Some sweets for the sweet?"Was what came next, as she unknowingly accepted an experimental Hazemind Concentrate-laced Harlot Sweet from the disguised Alchemist. Eustacia then uttered the words that would become her trademark..."Do you find me pretty?"

What happened next as the rest of the party joined the two? Well, let's put it this way...even a mundane sage could write a masterpiece of a tome on the ways to defile a young woman by simply dictating what they observed in that warehouse that day. Complete with the sardonic chanting of her first name over and over, compounded with being told how disgustingly ugly of a beast she really was...Eustacia Ha'Zouk found out, all in one shot, just how horrible of a place the world can be. And yes...they killed her little dog Toto too!

What to do with her after that, was no big task. The resourceful assassin soon found a contact in a Drow Alchemist Chirurgeon/Reanimator *archetype stacked (wow there sure are a lot of alchemists in this story) who had been conducting his low-profile surgical projects in the area. Being an avid collector with a special fascination with Marilith, Tinscarlio Wixt'Oz was all too happy to pay a handsome price for the girl. He wasted no time strapping the dazed Kasatha girl into his chair. She looked up into hie eyes as he prepared his instruments..."Do you find me pretty?"

Slightly shaken, for the first time in his career, Tinscarlio nonetheless started his administrations. Maybe it was because she was in shock, maybe it was lingering effects of the drugs...probably both, but Eustacia sat there stoically as the surgeon cut away. Finally, the girl impatiaently snapped at the doctor, Our anatomy is slightly different from anything else here...what you're looking for is a bit down and to the left!" Stunned, the surgoen backed up a bit..."What exactly did they do to you?" The girl's lips curled into a wry smile as she recounted the events that took place in the warehouse...as merrily almost as one would recount the events of an outing to, shall we say, a traveling circus...

The surgeon buckled for a second. Everything he had been suppressing, over his hardened years of adventuring and anatomical exploration, of the events that spurred him as a youth into this sadistic life he led, came rushing back at him...cutting his brain for every slice he had purveyed on another living being. "No...I must be strong...Asmodeus demands it! You...YOU must be strong...YOU ARE STRONG!" Once fated to an undead oddity in a psycho's collection, Eustacia Ha'Zouk would now become his greatest masterpiece!

To segue the transition from victim to loved one, Tinscarlio moved to unstrap the girl, "So, they said your name was Eustacia..." If there ever was an antithesis to stoicism, the surgeon immediately found it before him. In a short instant of uttering her name...Eustacia seemed transformed into a writhing beast, straining against her bonds with all her strength, snapping wildly at the surgeon, drooling profusely and screaming every profanity she pretended not to hear in her years with the circus. With every ounce of hate a misfit girl pushed down over years from being considered and treated as a hopeless burden to her clan, roared at the surgeon, "Not...My...Name...never say that name again! For the better part of an hour she strained against the straps, trying get at the one who dared call her by that title of abuse she had lived with all her life, until she finally wore herself out completely. Thus her mutagenic alter ego "Big Staci" was born.

Over the coming weeks, she was retrained into the arts of a archetype stacked chirurgeon/reanimator by Tinscarlio, once coming upon a picture of a Marilith, she asked what it was..."Oh, almost like Lilith...lilies are pretty aren't they?...Yes that is my name!" Through a series of operations and trepanation, the master of surgery, and the "healing" arts was able to reconstruct her skull to look more terrestrial, adding a light-blueish dye through alchemical reagents to her skin for an exotic suli-jann flavor, and a functional braided top-knot style hairdo Reference-AINE from the tower heroes of Heroes of might and Magic...I can provide a link! =)

Now would be the start of her second "tempering," as she was able to gather from the surgeon where those who sold her were from. She must now leave and go out to prove her Strength and earn the favor of Asmodeus and kill those who murdered Dacon Blantz, and susequently, Eustacia Ha'Zouk. She thus left for Talingrad. Always keeping a veil over her face in public...the last remnant of her "former" races modesty, Lilith Ha'Zouk found her way in Talingrad...most often surviving by selling herself as the exotic oddity she had been transformed into.

Her plans include finding the adventurers that came after Darcon, as well as who employed them and dealing with them as she sees fit. Her ultimate goal, either through surgery or magical permanance is to gain the lower regions of a serpent to be as much like a Marilith-and Tnscarlio's vision of her perfection and even possibly ascend to demonhood. She plans to use the healing background of chirurgeon to explore the torture of those who prove weak in this world so as not to deserve the life that has been given them. She plans to use the reanimator side to create a team of prostitute undead to cater to the needs of those with alternate tastes and dispatch the evidence in a pinch. She plans to get Promethean Disciple Dicsovery to remake her little dog Toto. All which came to a screeching halt when she became so impatient to get there, she was found boring into the skull of a fellow escort with plans to administer alchemical reagents in hopes of getting one of her zombies up and running.

"Lilith "Little Shiva" Ha'Zouk, do you have anything to say for yourself before we pass judgement?"

"Do you find me pretty?"

Kitiara
Female human antipaladin (iron tyrant, tyrant) 1 (Pathfinder Player Companion: Armor Master's Handbook 4, Pathfinder RPG Advanced Player's Guide 118, Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Intrigue 64)
LE Medium humanoid (human)
Hero Points 1
Init +2; Senses Perception +1 (+3 vs. Human)
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Defense
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AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10 (+2 Dex)
hp 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +2
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Special Attacks smite good 1/day (+3 attack and AC, +1 damage)
Antipaladin Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +4)
. . At will—detect good
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 16
Feats Dedicated Adversary, Self-exiled Noble
Traits desertion, seeker
Skills Bluff +7 (+9 vs. Human), Diplomacy +7, Disguise +9, Intimidate +7, Perception +1 (+3 vs. Human), Profession (soldier) +4, Sense Motive +0 (+2 vs. Human), Stealth +6, Survival +0 (+2 vs. Human)
Languages Common
SQ hero points
Other Gear
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Special Abilities
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Dedicated Adversary (Human) +2 to Attack and Damage vs. creature chosen, and some skills.
Detect Good (At will) (Sp) You can use detect good at will (as the spell).
Hero Points Hero Points can be spent at any time to grant a variety of bonuses.
Self-Exiled Noble +1 Bonus on attack rolls and damage rolls against members of your former family.
Smite Good (1/day) (Su) +3 to hit, +1 to damage, +3 deflection bonus to AC when used.

Whenever possible dressed in unladylike armor, the martial composure of this woman radiates deep and strong self-confidence. While highly charismatic with her piercing green eyes and flowing red hair, there is something smug and self-righteous about her.

Growing up cradled and protected as the daughter of one of the major noble house in Talingarde, Kitiara received a flawless education. Unfortunately she didn´t take to it and was far more interested in other things. As offspring of the house Darius, she was eventually allowed into the military, as she showed a complete lack of magical talent or studying, but was great in armor and battles.

Hoping to claim fame and honor for herself, she served in the army, since she wasn´t allowed to be a knight of the Alerion, and ended up at the Watch Wall. Unfortunately after the last great battles were fought there and most of her time was spend on actual watch, while she kept hearing about the great fortunes of her distant cousin Bellinda.
She decided to leave her past and family ties behind her, setting out to make her own fortune, her own legacy, in defiance of the major part of her family and their thralls, who all failed to acknowledge her.

From time to time there would be very minor skirmishes with hobgoblins at the Wall. Not enough to raise some attention, but enough to keep her there as a guard on duty. One of those days she seized a chance and abandoned her post, but only after luring some hobgoblins in, with the hope that she could then drive them back and be a hero.
Whatever her reasons, pride, foolishnes, or just being bored, obviously the plan backfired. Someone else took the 5 minutes of fame and she was found out, ending up in Branderscar.