That's how he became the "independent contractor" known by those who've heard of them as "the Professor."
But the mousy, nervous, tick-laden man barely registers an impact on anyone. His nickname came equally from his bookish nature and the fact that no one could remember his real name. He is flinchy, quiet, and used to abuse. He is also, deep down, extremely angry.
His eyes went to her with a jolt and a jump. He considered the question, a bit too long, but answered "Er, ah, yes. Ahem. Yes. I, uh, am. Him. That's me."
As she detailed what the job would entail he took careful notes, erm-ing and ah-ing to himself at various points. This was far from his first job but this felt different. Less desperate orphans trying to survive and more of a professional crew, the sort he'd always dreamed of joining. Much of his awful life had led to this possibility of greatness.
"So, you're a ..." Cimri searched for the words, without ever seeming to forget them.
"Cracksman. Locks, traps, tight spots, detail work." It sounded as much like a mantra as it did a response. Cimri smiled.
|Souls At War|
If I seem a little snippy, it's because I've spent my weekend sick so I am a little low on patience. If folks want to see how my games generally run, I fully encourage you to check out some of my current games.
Yeah, that sucks.
Still, try to warn a bit earlier about that kind of stuff.
and those weren't exactly answered or defined:
* Any limits about Races? What about Templates?
* How will you handle Age Categories (and their modifiers)?
* Young Character?
|5 people marked this as a favorite.|
While considering possible character concepts, I also compiled a list of submitted characters. My apologies if I left anyone off.
Javell DeLeon - Emmanuel Stokes, human antipaladin (tyrant, dreadguard) / warpriest
The Archlich – Arue Karinn, tiefling antipaladin (tyrant) / vigilante (masked maiden)
Patrickthekid – Shaun Varus, human brawler / antipaladin (tyrant)
Agent Eclipse – Valkin Khor, strix brawler (stranger) / monk (tetori)
Vrog Skyreaver – Tess Windsor, half-orc unchained rogue (phantom thief) / unchained monk (scaled fist)
KingHotTrash – Draco Catus, human unchained rogue (knife master) / fighter
Digger Chandler – Serius Flaccus, unchained rogue / investigator (cipher)
Eriktd – Malladonna, Halfling alchemist (blood alchemist) / witch (bouda)
SCKnightHero1 – Novennia Galonnica, human sorcerer (draconic bloodline) / oracle of dahak
Oyzar – alchemist (vivisectionist) / summoner (synthesist)
SodiumTelluride – rogue / bard
Ouachitonian – bloodrager / antipaladin
Oblivion's Scion - tiefling ranger / inquisitor
Okay, here is Phntm888's submission, Casius Flann. He's a Fighter (Lore Warden)//Mesmerist gestalt, a Chelish noble cut off from his family's money and given to con artistry as a way to make a living.
Casius looked up at the woman who’d approached his table in what passed for an inn in the village of Longacre. The place clearly didn’t have anyone worth fleecing, but it was too late in the day to press on to the next village. At least the wine was decent. She had short dark hair, dressed in fairly ordinary clothing. He noticed the kukri at her side, though - she clearly wasn’t just some village girl who thought him handsome. Putting on his most winning smile, he said, ”Am I? What makes me different?”
Taking a seat, the girl said, ”You look like someone who enjoys the finer things in life - not like the usual travelers who come through.” Leaning forward, she said, more quietly, ”You also look like someone a friend of mine in Egorian told me about - someone who managed to get a nice old lady to leave him some money, despite not knowing her. Cheeky little scam, that one.”
Casius kept his smile on his face, but in his head began making contingencies to kill the woman and leave her body in a ditch somewhere. Just as quietly, he responded, ”Well, whatever passing resemblance I bear to this scoundrel, I assure you it’s just a resemblance. Is there something I can do for you?”
The woman chuckled. ”Relax, I’m not gonna turn you in. In fact, I could use a little help with something - I’ve got a job that needs doing, and your talents would be quite helpful. It pays really well, too. What do you say?”
Casius, cautious, said, ”I’d say maybe, but I don’t work with someone I don’t know the name of.”
Smiling, she said, ”Of course. Where are my manners? Cimri Staelish.” She stuck out a hand. Reaching out, Casius took her hand, shook it, and said, ”Casius Flann.”
”Nice ta meet ya, Casius. Now, let’s have a drink to our new partnership.”
Let me know if anything's missing.
|The Emerald Duke|
Presenting Penance for your consideration.
"Good evening my dear. You must be Cimri. Our mutual associate has suggested I speak with you about potential work. I understand it that you have an opportunity available and could use some assistance" the little gnome said, sitting at a table in the corner while sipping a tea of some kind.
His plain clothes and lack of obvious wealth meant he was rather nondescript, which meant he didn't stand out among the other patrons of the establishment. The human woman took up a seat opposite from his with a rather unimpressed look on her face.
"You don't look like much" was all she muttered.
He smiled. "Quite right, but you see, looks can be deceiving. Why, you'd be amazed at some of the stories one can hear when one doesn't draw any attention to one's self, but I can assure you, I can be of use to you. I can be...quite persuasive, when needed. And if the rumors are true, you've already hired enough muscle to ensure your job goes...well enough, but sometimes well isn't enough, is it? Sometimes, a few choice words can go a long way towards swaying someone to do what's needed, wouldn't you agree?"
Before she could answer, he continued. "If I were a betting man, I'd wager that you're looking to recoup some expenses and deliver a message while ensuring that business continued. I mean it would be counter productive to go through all this trouble just for a few coins at the expense of future profits, I'm sure."
"Now, if you wouldn't mind recanting some of the finer points of this opportunity, perhaps we could discuss the best manner in which to ensure a positive outcome for all involved."
Her facial expression was enough to let the gnome know that she was somewhat perplexed, but she quickly shook away any confusion and started to lay out the specifics of the work that he had been inquiring about.
Ok. I'll be submitting Bayard the Axeman, a tiefling Antipaladin/Bloodrager with a serious grudge against the church of Iomedae. He's mostly a two-handed frontliner. See enemy, Smite Enemy, RAGE!, Split enemy in half with a flaming greataxe. Simple, brutal, effective. When we're done killing them all, use the Iomedaeans' altar as a toilet.
Here's my submission...
The rain pelted down steadily, the small courtyard's cobbles slick and shiny as the men hurriedly loaded the wagon. They were carrying items thickly wrapped in burlap up from a cellar, carefully placing them in the wagon and covering them with hay. One of them fell to a knee, his foot having slipped on the wet cobbles, his package falling to the ground rolling across, it's burlap unfurling....revealing a bust, a carving of Iomedea. Immediately, the three men felt the air grow colder, more oppressive , as their fears and doubts rose up in them. "Your precious Imoedae can't help you know....the Judgement of Asmodeus is upon your....rejoice!" a melodious voice calls out from the darkness, belying the terrifying message is conveyed. A figure launched itself from the shadows, impaling one man on her sword, another falling with a dagger in his eye.
The other, overcome with fear, the knife in his hand trembling, shook his head, his mouth moving, tying to say something that will prevent his fate. The last thing he saw was the beautiful grey eyes of the woman sliding her sword into his heart.
Picking up the bust, the womand slams it down on to the ground, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
Her head comes up at the sound of slow clapping from above. Spinning about, sword raised, pious power embraced, Angeus saw a small woman perched on a nearby balcony railing.
Scowling she called up , "Declare your purpose...".
With a chuckle, the other woman gracefully jumped down, landing easily on the wet cobbles, "Names Cimri...I need someone of your talents to help me with a situation, a traitor to Cheliax you see...needs to be taught a lesson."
Her grey eyes narrows, as Angeus instinctively used her training to determine this Cimri's honestly and intentions. Sensing that the woman was telling the truth, Angeus nodded, "Tell me more.... as you help me destroy these heretical objects..."
Cimri chucked again and began to unwrap the items, smashing them to the ground...
Almost forgot, Bayard meeting Cimri:
As Bayard walks into town, his axe slung over his shoulder, he feels the eyes of the townsfolk on him. He sneers and returns a few stares, glaring until they look away. He enjoyed it. He hated them, each and every one. They deserve it. They hated me for no better reason than what I am. So they can have it back. I hate them for what they are. But then he saw her. A small human woman, about his own age. Looking at him, not with hate, but with a crooked grin. Somewhere deep within his mind, recognition sparked and a name emerged. Staelish. Cimri. I remember her. Or at least, what they said about her. Not the sort I'd have spent any time with. He looked her up and down now, though... walking over, he looked down at her. "Cimri, isn't it?"
Her grin widened, and she nodded. "Right. Are you really the same Bayard who left, years ago? You don't act like him. He'd never have spoken to" she pauses, glancing at herself in mock-horror "someone like me."
Bayard laughed loudly. "We are the same, I suppose. But he was a naive fool. I'm not. Not anymore. So tell me, Cimri, hat can I do to tweak the noses of these poor Iomedaean fools?"
She cocked an eyebrow. "You don't seem like the sort for tweaking noses, big guy."
He shrugged. "First things first. Get them mad enough, and they'll give me lawful grounds for splitting their arrogant, judgemental skulls open." he says, one hand tightening involuntarily on the haft of his greataxe. "In self-defense, of course."
|"The Lucky Halfling"|
Throwing Mirra in the ring. A NE Human Steelbound Fighter/Sister-in-Arms Cavalier. Mirra is one of the disbanded Gray Maidens and has since turned to the mercenary life.
Thank you for the consideration.
NE Human Fighter (Steelbound)/ Cavalier (Sister-in-Arms) 2
Init +2; Senses Perception +5
AC 20, Touch 11 , Flat-Footed 19 (+6 Armor,+3 shield,+1 Dex)
HP 26 (2d10+6)
Fort +5 Ref +1, Will +2
Defensive Abilities Bravery +1
Speed 30 ft., 20 ft in armor
Melee longsword +7 (1d8+4/19-20x2)
... gauntlet +6 (1d3+4/x2)
...heavy wooden shield +6 (1d4+4/x2)
Ranged dart +2 (1d4+4/x2)
Special Attacks Tactician, Halfhearted Challenge +1 (1/day)
Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 12, Cha 14
Base Atk +2; CMB +6; CMD 17
FeatsIron Will, Shield Focus, Weapon Focus: Longsword, Power Attack
Skills Bluff +6 . Climb +8 , Diplomacy +6 , Handle Animal +6 , Intimidate +8 , Knowledge(Dungeoneering) +5 , Knowledge(Local) +5 , Perception +5 , Sense Motive +5 , Survival +4 
Background Skills Knowledge(Nobility) +6 , Profession (Mercenary) +6 
Languages Common, Elven, Infernal
Traits Campaign: Amoral Mercenary, Regional Influence
SQ Maiden’s Order ( order of the lion [lion’s call] order of the dragon [aid allies], Steelbound Weapon, Skilled, Edict: Order of the Dragon
Favored Class +1 HP/Level
Other Gear 814 GP to spend on other gear
Steelbound Weapon (Ex) : At 1st level, a steelbound fighter selects one type of weapon (such as shortswords, longbows, or heavy flails). He gains Weapon Focus with that specific weapon. Whenever he isn’t wielding or carrying at least one weapon of this type (the weapon can be broken but not destroyed), a steelbound fighter takes a –2 penalty to his Wisdom score and can’t benefit from his fighter class abilities (excluding bonus feats gained from fighter levels). Once the steelbound fighter’s weapon awakens (see steelbound awakening below), these penalties apply whenever the fighter isn’t carrying or wielding that particular weapon.
This ability replaces the fighter’s 1st-level bonus feat.
Bravery (Ex): Starting at 2nd level, a fighter gains a +1 bonus on Will saves against fear. This bonus increases by +1 for every four levels beyond 2nd.
Halfhearted Challenge (Ex): Sisters-in-arms vigilantly protect their allies, weakening their focus on their challenged foe. A sister-in-arms adds only half her cavalier level (minimum 1) to damage rolls against her challenge target.
This ability alters challenge.
Challenge (Ex): Once per day, a cavalier can challenge a foe to combat. As a swift action, the cavalier chooses one target within sight to challenge. The cavalier’s melee attacks deal extra damage whenever the attacks are made against the target of his challenge. This extra damage is equal to the cavalier’s level. The cavalier can use this ability once per day at 1st level, plus one additional time per day for every three levels beyond 1st, to a maximum of seven times per day at 19th level.
Challenging a foe requires much of the cavalier’s concentration. The cavalier takes a –2 penalty to his Armor Class, except against attacks made by the target of his challenge.
The challenge remains in effect until the target is dead or unconscious or until the combat ends. Each cavalier’s challenge also includes another effect which is listed in the section describing the cavalier’s order.
Maiden’s Order (Ex): All sisters-in-arms share a talent for aiding and inspiring their fellow Gray Maidens, strengthened by training and the bond of sisterhood. Generally, those loyal to Queen Ileosa refer to their pledge as the order of the fanged crown, while those who have forsaken the cruel queen call it the order of the scarlet rose. In either case, the benefits are the same.
A sister-in-arms does not choose an order. Instead, she is considered to belong to both the order of the dragon and the order of the lion, and she gains all of the benefits of both orders (including additional class skills and conditional skill bonuses, additional challenge benefits, and order abilities) at the appropriate levels. At 1st level, a sister-in-arms chooses which order’s edicts she must follow; generally, those of the fanged crown choose the order of the lion’s edicts, while those of the scarlet rose choose the order of the dragon’s edicts.
This ability alters order and replaces mount.
Order of the Dragon
Cavaliers belonging to the order of the dragon dedicate themselves to a group of like-minded individuals, be it a mercenary company or a small band of adventurers. These cavaliers believe in loyalty and friendship, and are willing to lay down their lives to protect their allies.
Edicts: The cavalier must remain loyal to his allies and must always work to further the aims of the group. He must protect his allies from harm and defend their honor when called into doubt.
Challenge: Whenever an order of the dragon cavalier issues a challenge, his allies receive a +1 circumstance bonus on melee attack rolls against the target of his challenge whenever he is threatening the target. This bonus increases by +1 for every four levels the cavalier possesses.
Skills: An order of the dragon cavalier adds Perception (Wis) and Survival (Wis) to his list of class skills. In addition, whenever an order of the dragon cavalier uses Survival to provide food and water for his allies or to protect his allies from harsh weather, he receives a bonus on the check equal to 1/2 his cavalier level (minimum +1).
Order Abilities: A cavalier that belongs to the order of the dragon gains the following abilities as he increases in level.
Aid Allies (Ex): At 2nd level, whenever an order of the dragon cavalier uses the aid another action to assist one of his allies, the ally receives a +3 bonus to his Armor Class, attack roll, saving throw, or skill check. At 8th level, and every six levels thereafter, this bonus increases by an additional +1.
Order of the Lion
A cavalier who belongs to this order has pledged himself to a sovereign; be it a king, queen, or even the local warlord. Cavaliers of this order are stalwart and dedicated to their cause, willing to go any length to ensure the safety of their lord and his domain.
Edicts: The cavalier must protect the life and lands of his sovereign at all costs. He must obey the commands of his sovereign without question. He must strive to expand the power and prestige of his realm.
Challenge: Whenever an order of the lion cavalier issues a challenge, he receives a +1 dodge bonus to his AC against attacks made by the target of his challenge. This bonus increases by +1 for every four levels the cavalier possesses.
Skills: An order of the lion cavalier adds Knowledge (local) (Int) and Knowledge (nobility) (Int) to his list of class skills. An order of the lion cavalier can make Knowledge (nobility) skill checks untrained. If he has ranks in the skill, he receives a bonus on the check equal to 1/2 his cavalier level (minimum +1) as long as the check involves his sovereign.
Order Abilities: A cavalier belonging to the order of the lion gains the following abilities as he increases in level.
Lion's Call (Ex): At 2nd level, an order of the lion cavalier gains the ability to rally his allies. As a standard action, he can give an encouraging speech which grants all allies within 60 feet a competence bonus on their saving throws against fear equal to his Charisma modifier and a +1 competence bonus on attack rolls for a number of rounds equal to his cavalier level. If an ally within range is under the effect of a spell or ability that causes him to be frightened or panicked, he can immediately make another saving throw to resist the effect (if allowed).
Amoral Mercenary: You have always looked after yourself first, and done whatever you need to do to survive. You’ve killed before, and you’ll kill again, but you don’t lose sleep over it. If it’s you or them, you invariably choose yourself. You follow no code, unless it’s doing whatever brings you to the top. Of course, sometimes you have to work with others, and that’s fine too, as long as the pay is right—whatever it takes to get the job done. With the current unrest in Cheliax, it’s starting to look like a good deal to work with House Thrune. You know Thrune rewards those who serve it well, and there’s no one else in Cheliax who can offer the power, prestige, and money that Thrune can.
You’ve got a keen eye for what makes a good arrangement and when to walk away from a bad deal. You gain a +1 trait bonus on Sense Motive checks, and Sense Motive is a class skill for you. In addition, as an immediate action once per day, you can shift your effective alignment so that you are considered neutral instead of evil for the purpose of good effects that target evil creatures (such as holy smite or a paladin’s smite evil ability). Your alignment does not actually change when you use this ability. You must be neutral evil to take this trait.
Regional Influence: Although you live some distance from the city-state your community owes fealty to, you’ve been influenced by its sophisticated urban ways. Determine the city-state of which your home is a holding. You gain a +1 trait bonus on checks with one Profession skill and one of the following benefits.
Korvosa: Gain Infernal as a bonus language. If you already have this language, gain a +1 trait bonus on Diplomacy checks.
Bloody Minded: You are always ready for bloodshed. You gain a +1 trait bonus on initiative and Intimidate checks.
A Katapeshi man squirmed against a pair of manacles. His sweat soaked shirt clung to his hairy chest. He had been struggling for hours now to slip his hand free or, failing that, somehow snap the damned chain. That b#+~@ had chained him to the side of a furnace and at such an odd angle too. Every time he felt like he was working free he would touch the scalding iron. That was her intent, of course, the man knew that. It did not change the fact that it hurt like hell whenever it happened. But feeling like he understood his captor was the only thing keeping the man from giving up at this point. That and fear of what she was planning when she returned. If only he had taken Slint up on her offer to build redundancies into their crew.
”I do the talking,” he had said, ”I’ll let you worry about cracking the locks.”
Stupid. He was so stupid. Stupid. Stupid!
Metal boots clanked against the wooden floorboards above. She was back. The man redoubled his efforts. He smelled meat cooking and realized his skin was blistering where it touched the furnace. He no longer cared. He just needed to get free.
The man leaned away from the manacle and pulled.
The shackle bit into his skin.
He pulled some more.
And he heard a snap.
An instant later pain coursed up his left arm. A lump had appeared just below the manacle. The outer bone bone (Ulna, was it? Trilano would’ve known) of his forearm snapped. Somehow, the bone had not forced its way through the flesh.
The man ground his teeth and continued to struggle against the bent manacle.
”This is how we’re gonna do this,” a honeyed voice called from the top of the stairs, ”you are going to tell me where you sold the painting.” Boots clanked as his captor descended the stairs. She had caught him at The Moldy Tankard. Evidently, his comrades had been right to avoid celebrating with a pint - or five - right after fencing their goods. How was he supposed to know that one of their previous marks had hired a bloody Gray Maiden to track them down?
Wood groaned some more before metal boots clanged on the stone floor. The Maiden appeared at the bottom steps. She pulled off that steel helm with its scarlet plume for which her and her devil-worshipping comrades were known. Oh yes, he knew her for what she was. Of the famous suit of armor, she wore just the plumed helmet yet somehow, she still had the presence of someone in that frightening plate armor.
And he knew that he would not be escaping.
Mirra unlatched and removed her helmet. She let the drama build before letting the Kelishite see her face. She found that tension made the reveal that much more intimidating. Mirra pivoted her head and gave the thief the full view of her face. A once comely face bore the scars of blades and burns. Her upper lip was missing a large chunk on the right side and now peeled back to show too much of the teeth and gums. A jagged gouge traced her left cheekbone. Where the left eyebrow should have been was a burn in the shape of an imp's tail.
Mirra let the Kelishite gauk for a minute before she raised her eyes to meet his own. There, right where Mirra had left him, sat Sadmehr Bashed. His skin was blistered and...was his left arm always bent that way? Mirra unclasped her sword belt and leaned the sheathed blade against the wall. She slipped her gauntlets off to lay them beside the helmet on an empty wine cask. For a moment, Mirra made the mistake of looking into the face of her helmet and felt herself pulled back through the eye slits.
Old Korvosa. Hundreds of men, women, and children push against the shield wall. Some of them have a rash and blisters across their faces. Mirra and her Sisters push back the citizens. Mirra’s armor is still shining silver. A rock strikes Jalissa square in the forehead. A dent mars her helmet.
”Let me go!” The thief’s call pulled Mirra back to the present just in time.
Mirra sauntered over to the thief.
"As I was saying before lunch, I need you to tell me who bought the painting that you and your crew stole," Mirra said. She produced an iron key and let it dangle from a delicate chain. "Do that and you can walk out of here.”
The Kelishite ran his free hand through his matted hair, ”Right, and on every third Oathday I get to have a roll in th' sheets with Queen Telandia.”
Mirra frowned and put a boot on the man’s sternum, ”I’m not into elves...or women anymore for that matter but, the queen of the elves? Color me impressed. Queens are a special kind of something. ” She leaned on her knee with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other. The man squirmed under the weight of Mirra's heavy boott. His skin sizzled against the furnace. ”So, let’s try this again: who was the fence that bought the painting?”
Mirra drives the end of her sword into the flabby belly of a middle-aged man. Blood sputters from his lips as Mirra kicks his still-warm corpse from her blade.
”And you thought today was going to be boring!” Jalissa calls over the sound of battle. No, the sound of slaughter. Swords do not clash. Warriors are not competing for their lives. Civilians, innocent civilians, are fighting for their lives against steel clad women who show no mercy.
”Fine!” Mirra calls back, her voice reverberates inside her helmet. ”You were right. I’ll buy you a pint when this is through!” She drags the edge of her sword across the back of a woman. The woman passes a small bundle to a young boy as she falls. Mirra marches forward, sword dripping.
The boy - he has seen twelve years at the most - holds a butcher’s cleaver in a trembling hand the bundle in the other. First he warns Mirra to stay back. Then he pleads. Tears cut winding paths through the filth on his face. Mirra raises her sword high above her head.
The bundle stirs and begins to wail.
Something catches in the back of Mirra’s mind. It tries to force itself into her forethought and causes Mirra to falter. Something else, something more familiar, claws away at the other something.
The shining helmet hides a blossoming smile and the sword comes down.
”I said I’d tell you, you crazy b#!**!”
Mirra flinched and lifted her boot off of the man’s chest. Sadmehr gave up the names of his fence, his crew, and the man that hired him. For a minute, she thought he might name everyone he had ever known.
And then he began to confess to other crimes.
Sadmehr took the key from the Maiden with his free hand. Every ounce of remaining strength kept his fingers clasped around the precious piece of iron. He reached up and slipped the key into the lock of the manacles. The man was vaguely aware of his back against the furnace. He turned the key. And nothing happened.
”You lied to me. Calistria’s Sting find you.” he said. No malice, only pure defeat coated his words.
Mirra sighed and pulled a metal box from her pack.
”Don’t bring the gods into this. They don’t give two shakes of a goblin’s ass about any of us.” She set the metal box on the floor at her feet. “You know, Korvosa has a pretty strict law on thievery. Too many Dancers - you'd call 'em Varisians - running around snatching purses and such. Burglary could get you anywhere between a fine and two years in prison. Robbery: lose a hand, maybe a decade in prison. Of course, if you happen to be a member of the Cerulean Society you might get off with just a small fine.” The Maiden paused to regard the man, ”You aren’t a member are you? Don’t answer. Rhetorical. Anyhow, my point is this: Korvosan law is pretty straightforward. And, unless something huge happened in the last few days, Chelish law is too. I’d never claim to be a lawyer or anything and while I’m not entirely certain of the proper punishment for a burglary like this but, I think we can figure something out.”
The Maiden slid the metal box across the floor. It stopped between the man’s legs.
”I never said the key was for the manacles,” she replied. The woman had already fit both gauntlets back onto her bloodied knuckles.
Sadmehr jammed the iron key into the locked box. Inside was a single vial of a bubbling, green liquid.
The Maiden picked up her helmet. She seemed to be avoiding looking into its blank face, ”Most people don’t know how much acid it takes to melt through a person’s arm.” She slipped the helmet on and clasped it shut. Her voice echoed inside the steel, ”Less than what it takes to melt iron.”
Sadmehr watched in disbelief as the Maiden snatched her sword from its resting place and stalked up the stairs.
The Diabolist placed a coin ladened purse into Mirra's hand. The former Gray Maiden tucked the purse away.
"Will you not be counting it then?" he asked. The corners of his eyes crinkled whenever he asked a question. Something Mirra recognized as a sign that he was accustomed to receiving a prompt answer.
She smirked and reached for the pocket where she had placed the bounty.
Mirra estimated from the weight that he had, in fact, paid her no less than twenty percent more than the agreed upon amount. The Diabolist just wanted a reason to say it out loud. She obliged him.
"Did you short pay me?"
The palie-skinned Chelaxian man shook his head. "No," he said, "there is an additional fifty percent for you."
Mirra nearly choked on her own spit.
"I hardly doubt my services were worth-"
The man held up a hand, "You recovered several of my client’s personal treasures. On top of that, you provided the names and locations of several wanted criminals. One of which had dealings in several other criminal activities." The Diabolist paused to review a piece of parchment, ”For future reference, we prefer to arrest our criminals in Cheliax. What you did-”
It was Mirra’s turn to interject, ”Bad habit. One that I’m working on.” She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and chewed on the scarred part of her bottom lip. Another bad habit. Mirra found herself wishing she had kept her helmet on for this conversation. She felt too uncomfortable without the helmet. Too exposed.
The Diabolist nodded his head and stepped to the side, gesturing for the armed guards to do the same.
”Then I consider our arrangement to be concluded.”
Mirra righted herself with a soldier’s ease and headed into the first tavern she could find. Where she would sit. And drink. And try to forget.
Mirra took a long gulp from her tankard as Cimri finished her little speech. When the woman finished. Mirra wiped away the foam with the back of her wrist before speaking.
“Are we talkin’ a smash-n-grab or a quiet job? Because, I’ll be honest with you, neither is simple. They both have their fair share of complications that can (and most likely will) happen,” Mirra held her empty mug up for the barkeep to see as she spoke.
The Chel were singing some song about the might of their damned army which meant calling for another drink was out of the question. Mirra scanned the room and caught some young buck watching her. He wore the look of determination that only came from one too many ales and meant he considered himself Mirra's saving grace. The Maiden flashed the buck her good side - gave him a good look at the scars - and turned back to Cimri once she was certain the buck had been scared off.
"I'm guessing that your boss expects the job to turn sour, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here buying my drinks," Mirra cocked her head to one side, "You are buying my drinks?" The warrior drained the last of her ale and again held it up for the barkeep to see. "Blasted Horser needs to stop flirting with his boys and serve the paying customers!"
Mirra started to rise from her seat but decided better of it. She did need the work. Cimri probably wouldn't want to hire someone that can't keep their head down. The Maiden sighed and spoke to Cimri, "I'm in. Now where did we land on you buying my drinks?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
I'm guessing I'll be paying for my own drinks.
Item | Cost | Wt
longsword | 15 | 4
heavy wooden shield | 7 | 10
steel lamellar armor | 150 | 15
gauntlet (comes w/ armor) | 0 | 0
dart (10) | 5 | 5
fighter's kit | 9 | 29
Total GP spent: 186
Total Weight: 37 lbs
Gold Available to finish character: 814
|"The Lucky Halfling"|
The horse question is pretty moot for me at this point considering I have decided on a build. Once done I will be submitting a Chelaxian (human) Antipaladin (dread vanguard/tyrant) of Asmodeus 1/Hunter (Colluding Scoundrel) 1 with his dog (bodyguard).
In true Chelish fashion, he cares little for his companions and their wellbeing beyond how each serves to further his goals. He is not against stepping up to block attacks for an ally as long as he believes doing so would further his cause.
No copying intended here, hoss. Mirra is a re-work of a cavalier that I built for a previous submission combined with the fighter>SA that I built for this AP months ago.
I have PC's built for most of the AP's that I keep on hand in Pathbuilder. There's a reason I usually don't take very long to get a character submitted.
Either more than one person can see an evil campaign and think "Oh, a former Gray Maiden would be cool for this!" or I scrolled through all of the applicants and went "That guy. I'm going to copy his concept."
Quite frankly, ..Penance.. said it already. There aren't enough opportunities to play some of the cool, evil concepts.
I actually did start scrolling through after I posted (which is what i usually do) and saw your posts about the ideas you were tossing around. Funny enough, I had also considered antipaladin/fighter or antipaladin/vigilante(masked maiden). Antipaladin is a really cool idea for leading into a Sanguine Angel. And I had thought "What if we both got selected. We could already have an interesting dynamic."
Anyway, apologies to GM Dickie for the disruption. You can disregard my application. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.
My character is finished. I hope you like her. Here's the role-playing sample. I also copied it into the profile:
Tamara looked down at her shining new parade armor. It was dyed black and red and proudly presenting the symbol of Cheliax on the chest. I don't think they normally sell these things to random people... But not all men think with their brains. She could feel the smirk from the figure at the back of her mind. Too bad we didn’t get him to sell his soul as well. He sure seemed willing for anything. Tamara shook her head with a smile. She wouldn’t mind giving Alezzex more souls if it meant they became more powerful, but she doubted persuading a merchant to sell his was the best way to go about it.
The young half-elf looked over at the tavern. With flaky paint, it had seen better days, but the sounds coming out of the place revealed it was operating well enough. Let’s go. We should try to find some work. The fire unfortunately consumed most of Cirdan’s belongings. She checked herself over one more time before entering.
Upon entering she studied the interior and the people in it while heading confidently over to the bar. Even if she didn’t know what to do next, she knew that acting like she did would set the right impression for what she wanted here. Taking a stool she glanced over at the barkeep. A bright smile split her face as she asked in a melodic voice. “What’s the word on the street? I’m new in town and got some time to spend. If it’s profitable enough, I’ll be open for any job.”
The barkeep didn’t answer, just nodded at another woman sitting at a table nearby. Tamara turned with interest to see Cimri twirling a dagger in the air. “Looking for work? What the hell are you good for? You need more than a pretty face for serious business, I ain’t interested in some half-elf harlot.”
Tamara’s smile didn’t wane as she waved at the dagger and chanted. “F͎̣͈̯̮l҉̙̩̦̪y̫̪͘t͉͍͍ o͔̦͢pp̺͕̹̲̘͘ͅ ͕̭̜͖̖͘ọ͝ͅg̱̰͔̜͔̩̮ ͖̙̙̪k̥̤͙ó̟̥͇̮̣m̥͉̖ ̱͖̟͓̫t̺̺͝i̕l̸̮̝̞̦ ̹̱m҉̪̻̮̰e̝̞̻̣̘g̨.̘̖̲͖͕́ ͏̳̫S̖na̬͚̯͞p͖͕̭̱̜͘p͈̦̗ ̜͕̰̮̲̥̀de̻̮͙̝̦ͅn̻̥̬͕̙̻ ̹͈̫̘b̶̹̳̫̙͈̠̙ọ͇͡r͎̜̗̮̝t̵ ̙̫͇̖͇m̜̜͕èd̙͍̹͍͠ͅ ̸̣̯̩͙͓͙ͅh̙̲̣̻̹ͅå̝̫̬̺͖͖͍n͉͕̣͖̤̬d͏̯̟̹̫ ̹̺͝ḁ͍v ̶̝k̘̱̺ra̺͕ͅf҉͖̥̳͚̮̖t̰͖̗̮͈̩.
Suddenly the dagger Cimri had been playing with floated over to Tamara as if snatched out of thin air by a hand of magic. The half-elf girl snatched it and struck it against her hammer, a metallic clang resonating of the hit. “This dagger is a bit too small for me. They size doesn’t matter, but it sure doesn’t hurt to have a large weapon. Of course this magic is just a trick.” She handed the dagger back over. “But I don’t need to summon a bunch of wild beasts in here to prove a point. So, what’s the job?”
Tamara nodded as she heard about the job. “Not paying taxes is not good. I don’t really care though.” She shrugged. “If the job needs doing and pays well, I’m up for it. What about any people we encounter? Do we have to leave them alive?” The voice in her mind commented then. [i]I sure hope not. If we can have his soul too, that’s all the better...[/b] Still keeping her mind focused on the task at hand Tamara continued the conversation. “I like to be prepared. What do we know about this Louslik Tannery? Who’s there, what skills do they have? Anything that might be dangerous?”
Feel free to ask any questions you might have an I'll do my best to answer them. If there's anything you want me to change to better fit the game, I'll be happy to do so.
I'm a bit surprised to see so few casting classes among the proposed characters. Even my character got more than most with 6th level casting on both sides and I don't feel like she has a lot of it. I guess people really like martial classes.
Lol I was thinking the same about casters. Not sure I'll be able to finish in time but I'm working on a demon-spawn tiefling fiendish vessel cleric / summoner. Trying to decide what domains to use and I have a question. Would the "Death's Embrace" ability of the Death domain heal me when I "Channel Evil"?
Lol I was thinking the same about casters. Not sure I'll be able to finish in time but I'm working on a demon-spawn tiefling fiendish vessel cleric / summoner. Trying to decide what domains to use and I have a question. Would the "Death's Embrace" ability of the Death domain heal me when I "Channel Evil"?
It doesn't look like it since channel evil specifically says it isn't negative energy.
It does say for the purpose of feats it's considered negative energy but wanted to make sure how you would rule it. Ill find a different domain if it won't heal me.
Edit: Actually now that I think about it, it doesn't matter. Chanelling evil will heal me. I guess I spent too much time switching between pages and confused myself. Thanks for the quick response. I hope i can finish in time, I'm interested to see how this concept will work.
|Ignatus the Tyrant|
"The Lucky Halfling" piping back up here under the guise of my in-the-works character. I changed it up a bit to help make it more flavorful. While most of the mechanics are as I envisioned them, this character's seemingly lack of value in human life stems from a bloody war that is not so far in Golarion's past.
The Goblinblood Wars took place a mere decade and a half ago from the start of the adventure path and left countless Isgeri orphans practically forgotten by the rest of the world.
But the church of Asmodeus was there to help them in their time of need. It may have taken them years to finally come upon Ignatus' village, but there they would find a boy who would be a faithful follower of Asmodeus and servant for the Thrune throne.
Seeing those around him as worth nothing more than the bullmastiff by his side, Ignatus looks upon the world as full of tools to further his cause to prevent himself from ever feeling the cruelties he suffered as a child again.
Vokrin has seen parts of Hell's Vengeance before, alongside ..Penance.., before the game ceased.
"Vokrin, you come highly recommended," Cimri says with a smile, then before Vokrin can pounce on the innuendo continues, "For your professionalism and discretion in tasks." This still elicits a wry smile from the furred man.
"What do you need from me, little one?" There was little enough to keep his attention at the gathering anyway, no new secrets to be learned, no capital to be gained or spent, it was simply another formality when one was a prominent person about town. He'd ingratiated himself to the town leadership through a practical application of blackmail and other pressure, and was now expected to make an appearance at events such as these. It wouldn't do to be forgotten or thought more than simply aloof.
Cimri, for her part, was up to the verbal sparring and looked more than capable of actual sparring as well. "We have a job, the Louslik Tannery. A man of your talents would ensure greater success."
Pondering for a moment, he seems to mull the options, the possibilities, and in the end can only come up with one question. His wry smile turns more cheshire, before he asks, "What's the pay?"
I actually finished! Yay! Logistics-wise: I'll create an alias and put everything in if I'm chosen. Hopefully avatars won't be broken again by then... As mentioned before, I'm pretty busy and may not be able to post every day during the week (ironically my weekends are usually mostly free), but I'll try my best, especially with one of my other games on hiatus at the moment.
So: here's Floravia (mythweavers sheet), angel-blooded aasimar urban infiltrator inquisitor // unchained urban barbarian, ex-Iomedaean and unrepentant snob.
As Floravia grew older and more mature, though, her feelings started to change. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced she was right all along. The Iomedaean way was weak. It was holding her back. And she needed to escape it before it brought her down. Over this time, as well, the mark on Floravia's hand began to change along with her mind. From its original crimson sword-and-sun of Iomedae, the birthmark slowly darkened and transformed into what it is now: a black serpentine figure with cruel wings spreading from it. While Floravia tried her best to keep the change in the mark hidden by constantly wearing gloves, it was inevitably discovered, and the girl, by now nearly old enough to be formally inducted as a full priest of Iomedae, was summoned to her old home in northeastern Cheliax to explain herself. Before she could be dragged in, though, she slew the messengers in the night and fled into the Whisperwood, barely making it to Senara.
Life for Floravia outside of the Church was quite different, but she adapted quickly to her new, less restrictive surroundings. Despite many of the inhabitants of Senara being hellspawn, Floravia felt much more at home, and the accepting inhabitants of the town took her in without the prejudices she'd faced before. As time passed, her eyes were slowly opened to the realities that the Church had tried to mask. Digging into previously-forbidden texts, she found the story of the whore queen Eiseth - one which eerily mirrored her own - and discovered the true meaning behind the transformation of her birthmark. Finding a new purpose in herself in the Erinyes Queen's crusade against Heaven, Floravia devoted herself to Eiseth, swearing that there could be nothing but conflict against the Iomedaeans who had tried to constrain her full potential.
Not long after, however, word of the Glorious Reclamation reached Senara. Knowing that her family and mentors from the Church were the type to join the rebellious movement, and reluctantly conceding that she wasn't strong enough to take on them yet, Floravia went on the move again, this time towards Egorian. However, her meager funds had run out by the time she arrived in Longacre, so she's been forced to settle down in the shadow of her most hated enemy. In between her dreams of slaughter, Floravia has been putting her angelic heritage to good use keeping on the good side of the residents, and she's found in particular a kindred soul in Cimri, with whom Floravia doesn't need to hide her true nature. Even though she doesn't fully trust Cimri yet and is well aware that her wariness is reciprocated, the wayward angelkin needed no convincing when the rogue asked her for a little help with a job...
Floravia's multiple lives have given her a rather conflicting personality - secretive, haughty, at times vain, and usually thirsty for battle. Unlike her patron, she has no desire to lead so long as her aims don't conflict with her superiors'. She will often look down on others if they struggle with things she thinks she would have no trouble with, especially if they are of higher status than her.
Floravia bears the angelic beauty of her ancestry, but it's been warped with a cruel intensity. Her bright orange eyes stare out piercingly from her pale face, while her long, straight black hair - dyed, but showing bits of her original platinum blonde - flaps about untamed. Her black-colored clothes and armor are worn, but not ragged; they neither accentuate nor hide her features, which she doesn't particularly mind either way.
Floravia is pulled from her focus as she hears the whisper and a light knock on the door. Without looking up or moving from her spot to unlock the door, she responds in her soft, melodious voice: "Ah, Cimri. Come in." After a short pause, the latch clicks open and the door swings open slowly, revealing to the rogue Floravia polishing an out-of-place-looking iron pendant. Her eyes still down on her task, Floravia adds, in a somewhat jocular tone, "So you are better than me at something. I'm impressed."
Finally looking up at Cimri's silence and noticing her baffled expression, the aasimar lets out a small smile. "Oh, this? Just a little thing from home that I found dumped in the bottom of my pack. I thought, with all these filthy Iomedaean vermin scrambling about here these days, I could use a little camouflage." She slips the pendant over her neck and gives her best faux-holy look. "What do you think? Convincing?" Seeing Cimri's headshake of disapproval, Floravia shrugs and pulls off the pendant. "Oh well. It's for the best, really. Anyways, I'm sure you came for something other than idle chatter. What do you need from me tonight?"
|Ignatus the Tyrant|
Ignatus listened to the explanation calmly. His face devoid of emotion beyond a raising eyebrow at the potentially greater reward to come.
Once given the chance, he would produce questions to better their understand of the task laid out before them. He did not know those around him beyond Cimri, but he wanted to make sure every one of them understood what they were suppose to do.
"How much should we take from this proprietor? And how should we handle any resistance?"
Simple questions, but with answers that would lead them clearly in the time ahead. He was eager to ask about the potential for greater glory, but he did not want to pull their attention from the task at hand. He needed this random group focused so that he could progress the plans of House Thrune, further the church's goals, and of course increase his own glory and standing.
I'm working on finishing up adding his animal companion in and his equipment list. With that in mind, how should we handle animal companion hit dice? Max as well?
It sounds like it will be a blast. Thanks for the chance to play.
Edit: Idnatus should be finished up at this point in time. Please let me know if you have any questions or something that you would like me to change.
@Ignatus the Tyrant: The rules for animal companions HP are pretty clear and he has been avoiding houserules so far:
Animal companions receive average hit points per hit die. For d8, the average is 4.5. Multiply 4.5 times the number of hit dice your animal companion has and round down. Recalculate hit points for your companion each time it gains additional hit dice. After its hit points are calculated, add in appropriate bonuses from its Constitution modifier, feats, and so on.
|"The Lucky Halfling"|
@Ignatus the Tyrant: The rules for animal companions HP are pretty clear and he has been avoiding houserules so far:Quote:Animal companions receive average hit points per hit die. For d8, the average is 4.5. Multiply 4.5 times the number of hit dice your animal companion has and round down. Recalculate hit points for your companion each time it gains additional hit dice. After its hit points are calculated, add in appropriate bonuses from its Constitution modifier, feats, and so on.
That is true. I had a moment because of reading MAX HP at the beginning. I forgot that is normal. Thanks for reminding me. It’s been a moment since I had an animal companion.
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Yeah, about 24ish hours lol. Amazing submissions all around, this will be tough. I might end up snagging five just in case someone has to back out and I can easily see at a glance two different tables (no, I do not have the ability to run two, sorry!) with the pool of folks here.
I know I'm rushing to catch Friday the 13th as a start date, so I apologize for that also, but at least you can count on an answer for sure tomorrow.