DM Fang Dragon's: War for the Crown

Game Master FangDragon

"Rye whiskey," shouted the halfling. Triphylla shouted often in pubs; humans tended to be over-loud in such settings so as to make every high-minded argument evident to all subscribed. Better that an approved opinion be shared and acknowledged, lest one be considered to be low-minded on current affairs.

Triphylla succeeded in acquiring the attention of the barmaid, the kind of young, narrow-waisted, heavy-bossomed lass that so often fit that particular bill. The barmaid spied the halfling, then her eyes quickly darted left to each other customer - every one of them a man - before retiring in the halfling's direction in defeat.

Repeating her drink order, Triphylla added, loudly enough for those nearby to hear, "And should you arrive at a gentleman who does not agree that females - of any race - ought be given our say in the future of this great land, let him know he need only speak his mind to be properly immasculated."

The man next to her spit his drink. The barmaid looked uncomfortable. But this was a game Triphylla had played before, and her empty pockets were as much a testament to her "lack of useful talent" and "incongruent societal overreach" as it was her tenacity, confidence, and guile.

For a split-second a hush fell over the revelers in the pub, and in that precious moment one man stood to his feet with such vigor that his chair scattered from beneath him halfway across the room.

"Say that again!" bellowed the man, applying weight to the final syllable so as to sink a lesser opponent by the awesomeness of his oratory style alone.

There was a precipitous pause in the action as the gathered Taldans anticipated a reply. To repeat the claim was bad form, of course, and Triphylla was no stranger to this method of combat. But she would not be rushed either. She picked her hat from the bar and swiveled her hips to rotate her feet without moving them, a kind of visual trick that often spoke louder than any opening retort. At the same time, the barmaid meekly poured a short glass of sturdy malt pushed it at the halfling - no offense intended.

Triphylla followed her ears, reaching for the glass and finding it without looking, then raised it to her adversary. He bowed, and the both drank. Priority had not been relinquished, however, and it was still hers to embrace or squander.

"I said a gentleman," said Triphylla with a coy arch to her brow. Again there was silence, during which the halfling questioned whether she had wrongly guessed the mood of the room, but then she was rewarded by a rising chorus of hoots and applause.

Her opponent did not flinch, but waited for the response of the crowd to diminish before countering, "A man, no one will deny, but gentle, as many a maiden in Taldor can attest, I am not." The crowd in the room ooo-ed and hollered approvingly at the bawdy retort.

"You look the part - a noble countenance in your jaw," Triphylla observed. "Clearly I misjudged your virility."

The man seemed pleased with that rebuttal, and the crowd hummed approvingly. "You flatter me. And now that you have judged me fairly, I repeat my demand: say that again!"

Triphylla looked about the pub. It was a common room like any other: poorly lit and overcrowded at this late hour, each paying customer a Taldan man, many with vapid, beautiful, young women at the arm, aroused to perform on demand. The Pig & Whistle was Taldan through and through. The halfling knew she had her work cut out for her if she was to drink free tonight.

Ignoring his demand, she set her glass down on the bar and plucked the long, animated peacock feather from her hat, and holding it by the quill, waved it in the general direction of the table at which the man now stood. "Do you believe, sir, that you are privileged based on the shape of your genitals?" That got a reaction from the crowd, but mostly one of shocked disdain, as if she had hit them below the belt.

The man smiled and shrugged. "I would not typically stoop to that low distillation of a man, although in your case I may have to make an exception." He gestured toward the ground with the palm of his hand as if approximate the halfling's small size. The gathered revelers offered polite chuckles at his rather obvious and unimaginative retort. They were still in his camp, after all.

"You would consider it to be fate or providence, then, that you are a man and I am a woman."

"Yes, and I feel no less masculine for that outcome."

"Nor should you," Triphylla replied. "But if you will indulge me, the women at your table - do you speak for them?"

"On various matters, yes."

"On political matters?"

"Certainly."

"Can you command the cycle of their menses?"

The man recoiled, appalled at the notion. "I spare it no thought whatsoever."

"She has agency in that regard?"

"Naturally, and woe be the man who must negotiate with her in the midst of it. Better to schedule a day of hunting."

"Or a week!" shouted another man nearby, earning a healthy round of applause which left the first man wanting.

"Indeed," Triphylla said loudly to quiet the non-participants. "A woman should be inflicted with solitude each month to preserve the sanity of her man. Though by secluding her, you grant her a measure of sovereignty, do you not? On whom can she rely but herself?" The rhetorical question was greeted by a flurry of agitated mumblings.

Triphylla continued. "Should every woman's calendar align with the moon, and should then every man gallop off to hunt, would you worry about us? Please do not, for we have our own minds, and just as we arrive to the world in the exact same fashion as yourselves, we live only in our own bodies as you do and we die with no less finality. Our lives are ours alone, no matter how much we often prefer to be protected and supported, nor how much you desire us to be so; no other is ultimately responsible for our fate. You own yours and I own mine. To impose your will on us not only conflicts directly with this natural order, but it weakens society by reducing our collective potential."

To this argument there was only silence. She knew what they were thinking: Surely this was a logically fallacy. One only need puzzle it out... Her opponent narrowed his gaze until his eyes were mere slits, until the weight of expectation was unbearable.

He shook his head dismissively. "I should have known better that to engage with a halfling. The little folk can spar through more drink than we!" Then, returning his attention to the crowd he recovered his wicked countenance. "I am bested in this duel, but at least I still have my cock!" Now every man raised a glass and cheered. Many of the women in the pub continued to gaze at the little halfling, some nodding discreetly.

Triphylla donned her big floppy hat and was about to jump down when there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see the pub owner - a very large bald man - pointing at the empty glass. She intended to refer him to her vanquished foe when a handful of silver hit the table beside her. She followed the hand to its owner, an elegant woman of noble stature, dressed in pink, blue, and gray.

"I represent the interests of Lady Martella Lotheed. How would you like a job?"

The road to the Arena was difficult even for the elite Taldan warriors who sought glory and wealth following a term of service in the Phalanx; the martial skills learned in that revered institution were best suited to combat among a band of soldiers as opposed to the one-against-one or free-for-all matches most common in the Arena. Often, the best fighters had come from the lesser city districts where the life-and-death stakes were real. Such was the path for Jael.

Being the halfling Champion was not without perks. He received a cut of the wagers in his favor as well as a weekly stipend - incentive to continue to fight and to win. There was nothing particularly special about Jael; he was not the strongest nor the quickest, and not by many years the youngest or most capable. What separated him - what made him dangerous within the confines of the Arena - were two people: his wife and daughter. He fought for them. He fought for Triphylla's future.

Maella - Triphylla's mother - came from a long line of chymists. The formulae book had been passed from generation to generation, as had the knowledge to craft potions and poultices. By now, a dozen generations had been actively employed by the Brotherhood of Silence in the creation of bombs and other instruments of destruction. Maella did not think of this work in terms of right or wrong. It was simply part of the family business, an arrangement that kept the halflings out of squalor and in the good graces of the powerful guild of thieves.

Jael and Maella met at the docks in Eastport. He was carrying barrels of fish and crates of goods for coin and exercise, and she was receiving a shipment of alchemical materials. She fell in love with his smile, his square jaw, and his crooked nose, and he was enchanted by her beauty, intelligence, and wit. They were an unlikely pair, but among the thousand halflings settled in Oppara, they became pillars of the local community - he as Arena champion and she as the critical link to the nefarious underworld of Men.

Triphylla would be their only child. A younger brother was still-born, an event which crushed her mother's resolve and made Maella question the parallel direction of her family line with the Brotherhood. She drew a line in the sand: she would continue to serve their interests, but Triphylla would be free from the centuries-old arrangement if she chose to be. Meanwhile, Jael began to lose fights he used to win. He was dethroned as the halfling champion. As his losses and his pain mounted, Maella ventured down the dark path, learning how to make mutagens and also how to share them with her husband. Jael would again rise to the rank of Champion. And as Triphylla grew he knew he had to win for her.

When Triphylla was old enough, her father taught her how to fight, or at least how to fight someday. They lifted barrels and crates down by the docks and ran as far as the Bridge and back. He took her to the Arena and described each fighter's style and stance, their strengths and weaknesses, and just as importantly, he explained who the significant Taldan elites were in the crowd, how they were related, and what role they played in society.

Maella taught her the old family business - the legitimate trade - although there was no hiding the girl from the truth about their most important clients. Triphylla never attended school. She never worshiped gods or goddesses. Her education was on the street, in the shadows, and in the Arena.

Jael continued to fight long past his prime, and with Maella's potions he was formidable into middle-age. But in the later years he became distant - absent. He would stare at the street for hours and rarely engage in conversation. Once, in an increasingly rare lucid moment, he turned to Triphylla and said, "They will tell you what you cannot do. Prove them wrong." She didn't know who "they" were but the words were etched in her mind as if chiseled on granite, and it became her personal motto: Prove them wrong.

Her father died in his sleep. He was not yet old, but the years in the Arena had taken a toll. Not long after, the Brotherhood sent a member to the house. That had never happened before. The Taldan rogue was sympathetic, but at the same time, Maella needed to continue to work her craft. People lived and people died. Oppara and the Brotherhood were eternal.

When Triphylla turned twenty her mother kissed her and said, "Go. I release you from this life. Your future is your own." She would continue to see her mother often; the lessons of the past are not forgotten. Life is hard afterall. Especially so if you are a halfling in Oppara. But fate had a plan for Triphylla...

Triphylla can appear generous and warm one minute and exchange sarcastic quips the next. She has learned to adapt and seeks to gain advantage quickly during social conflicts, and is not above using mockery when it suits her. Beneath the bluster and passion, she is desperate to confront oppressors in society and prove them wrong. She thrives in chaos.

Her starting path is Alchemist/Vivisectionist, a choice which aligns to her blend of attributes and talents. If anything, she might choose to dip into Monk or Bard briefly and then resume her true path - alchemy and influence from the shadows.

This is an audition. The side of the blade facing her bed said. Tea?

The back contained the rest of the message. Jocelyn’s Coffee House. Ten.

If Martella were ever to admit a fault (not that she would) it would be curiosity. It drove her alchemical studies, her ill-fated enquiries as to why she looked so different from her brother and sister and was what made her such a good spymistress. Unfortunately it also meant she rarely backed down from a challenge, especially one as cryptic as an assassin’s weapon which wasn’t used to kill her.

So naturally she went to Jocelyn’s Coffee House for nine thirty. Never let an enemy dictate the terms of a meeting, and the coffee was exceptionally good – exactly the way to settle nerves and set her up for a busy day.

Things are going well. She mused, watching Terence, her bodyguard, flirt with the pretty server who moved easily through the tables with her coffee pot. Terence’s eyes were watching the girl’s curved backside but Martella instead noted her grace and easy smiles. She could be quite the agent if only I could place her properly. The palace kitchens perhaps? The spymistress mused, running through her mental checklist. So much to be done. I’ll have to find some extra people for the Gala – four or five at least.

”That was poison.

The words made the normally unflappable aristocrat start, nearly sloshing the remnants of her tea across the small table. ”I beg your pardon?” She asked the serving girl sharply.

”I said would you like to pick your poison?” The girl replied with a cheerful smile. ”Madame Jocelyn says I shouldn’t talk about the drinks like that, but her tea is awful. Can I get you something else? We do a cinnamon coffee that is absolutely to die for, I’m sorry, which is exceptionally good. Would Milady like to try a cup?”

”Yes, thank you.” Martella replied, cloaking herself in the armor of the aristocracy – manners. The girl was a little strange, but clearly no harm. ”And one for my man at the next table too.”

”Of course Milady.” The girl replied, sweeping Martella’s cup away. ”I’ll be right back.”

It took a few moments for Martella to realise that her saucer was still on the table and then she started. On the saucer was the same sign as the dagger pommel, but that would mean…

”It really could have been poison.” A pleasant voice said over Martella’s shoulder as a figure slipped onto the seat opposite her. ”That’s twice I could have killed you Lady Lotheed, I hope that’s enough to prove my abilities, and my good intentions? I honestly have no interest in harming you, but it’s so hard for an assassin to present herself properly.”

The woman sat opposite her is clearly touched with demonic blood. Her skin is unnaturally vibrant with a deep red undertone and small horns poke out from long hair. The smile however was open and friendly.
”My Lady Nocticula, the Redeemer Queen sends her greetings.” The woman continued. ”She’s been taking an interest in what you and Her Majesty are doing. Taldor needs a good shake up, thousands of years and what have the Emperors achieved? A crumbling empire and a people obsessed with appearance over substance. We all know what pigs men can be, even the best of them.” She nodded towards Terence, who seemed to be completely unaware of the conversation as he sipped his coffee with a vacant expression. ”He’s with you so he must be a decent sort and even he was leering at my arse earlier.”

The oddly friendly assassin continued to talk, politely ignoring Martella’s hissed breath and subtle glance around the coffee shop. ”So she’s sent me to come and help you. I know there are lots of rules in your world, who can say what, do what, dress in what but the Redeemer Queen felt you might benefit from someone who can break the rules sometimes. Besides, I’m not the only assassin in town at the moment and lots of them don’t have my friendly nature.”

The woman rises from her chair with another smile.

”I’ll leave you to think about it. Leave a message at the bar if you want to get in touch.”

Martella watched the woman stroll out the front door with narrowed eyes and then scanned the small coffee house carefully for the serving girl from earlier. Not seeing her she leaned across to Terence and wafted a vial of smelling salts under his nose. The astringent scent was enough to bring her man back and he breathed in sharply.

”Sorry Mi Lady, I don’t know what came over me.”

”There is nothing to worry about Terence.” Martella replied kindly. ”Still, I think a new cup would be sensible.

”Have you made your mind up then?” For the second, or possibly third time, Martella had to stop herself jumping as the serving girl reappeared, still cheerful. ”About the tea or the coffee? Would you like some more samples to try?”

”No. Thank you.” Martella replied, looking the girl up and down with a careful eye and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. ”I was quite impressed by the last cup. I’ll have to come back to sample it again soon.”

”Of course Milady.” The girl replied with a flickering wink. ”I’m so happy you liked it.”

Whatever next? Martella wondered as she left the coffee house ten minutes later. Nocticula sending a friendly assassin to support our side out of shared opposition to misogyny? Now I really have seen it all.

Allow the air currents to flow around you as each of these spears fly pass you, Sébastien., the swashbuckler could still hear his father saying. His father, Kaito, was an Okayo corsair. His parents migrated from across the World's Edge mountains from Goka to Taldor just a year prior to Sébastien's birth.

His mother, Ahmya, would just shake her head at her boys, smiling as she gathered flowers for the dinner table.

Life in the small town of Karakuru was pleasant and simple for the Tian-Shu natives. Kaito owned a modest fishing business. The former pirate had 3 boats in his fleet that mostly caught tuna. Ahmya provided a seamstress enterprise that held a modest notoriety in the small town.

Sébastien grew up educated to a lesser degree. The halfling was more interested in the Rondelero School. The budding swordman would watch for hours the students practicing with their falcata's and bucklers. His father would come to drag him by the ear back to the boats where he was expected to contribute.

That way is not for you, my son. They will never allow such as you into their ranks.

Kaito would wisely watch his impressionable son. The older Sébastien became the more his father allowed the eager halfling to practice with his Nine-Ring Broad sword, teaching his (unknowingly to the youth) son the acrobatic martial art that draws inspiration from both the mysticism of monastic combat traditions with the flair of style.

If you master this style, then you will walk dance circles around those of the Rondelero School. Listen to the air. It speaks to us.

Sébastien smiles at the memory. His parents were so proud of him when the student began to perform the dance more easily and properly. They cried when he announced his intentions to travel to Oppara. Having turned of age, Sébastien wanted to see the Capital. His blue eyes having been opened the older he had gotten, the next generation Okayo corsair wanted to become involved in trying to better his country.

Sébastien chuckles at that thought, as the continuous smell of wet towels invade his nostrils.
At this pace, this city will shortly come to recognize Sébastien of The City of a Hundred Fountains!

Init: +3; Senses: Perception +4

===DEFENSES AND DEFENSIVE ABILITIES===
AC 14 T FF (Armor +1 Dex +3) | CMD 16 (18 vs disarm and trip)
hp 11 (1d10+1) | DR 3/— vs small ranged piercing weapons
Fort +3 (Base 2 + Con 1); Ref +5 (Base 2 + Dex 3); Will +0 (Base 0 + Wis 0)

===COMBAT AND ADVENTURING ABILITIES===
BAB +1; CMB +3
Note: Per Elephant in the Room rules, Weapon Finesse is an allowable option without spending a feat; she will opt to use Dexterity with finessable weapons unless stated explicitly otherwise in a post
Melee
Rapier +4 (1d6+2/18–20x2)
Switchblade +4 (1d4+2/19–20x2)

Ranged
Switchblade +4 (1d4+2/19–20x2); 10 ft range increment

=Special Attacks/Combat Abilities/Other=
Studied Socialite (Ex): As a move action, the velvet blade can study any opponent she can see to gain a +1 bonus on Bluff, Diplomacy, Disguise, Intimidate, Knowledge, Perception, Sense Motive, Stealth, and Survival checks attempted against that opponent. The DCs of slayer class abilities against that opponent increase by 1. A slayer can only maintain these bonuses against one opponent at a time; these bonuses remain in effect until either the opponent is dead or the slayer studies a new target.

If a slayer deals sneak attack damage to a target, she can study that target as an immediate action, allowing her to apply her studied target bonuses against that target.

At 5th, 10th, 15th, and 20th levels, the bonuses on skill checks and to slayer DCs against a studied target increase by 1. In addition, at each such interval, the slayer is able to maintain these bonuses against an additional studied target at the same time. The slayer may discard this connection to a studied target as a free action, allowing him to study another target in its place. At 7th level, a slayer can study an opponent as a move or swift action. This version of this ability replaces and alters studied target.

=Noble Scion Spell-like Abilities=
Cast each 1/day at Caster level 1, DC 11
Dancing lights: Medium, 1 minute, Save No, SR no. Create either up to 4 torchlights or glowing orb, or 1 vague humanoid shape.
[Prestidigitation: 10 ft, 1 hr. Creates various minor tricks/
Read magic: Personal, 10 min/level. Read scrolls and spellbooks.
Unseen Servant: Close, 1 hr/level. Invisible force obeys your commands.

===STATISTICS, FEATS, SKILLS, AND RELATED ABILITIES===
Str 14 Dex 16 Con 13 Int 12 Wis 10 Cha 14
(20 point buy, human bonus to Dexterity)

=Feats, Proficiencies, and Traits=
Feats
Deft Maneuvers (L1): (EITR Page 14) You do not provoke an attack of opportunity
when performing a trip or disarm combat maneuver. In addition, you receive a +2 bonus on checks with trip and disarm combat maneuvers, and you can make a Bluff check to feint in combat as a move action. You also receive a +2 bonus to your Combat Maneuver Defense whenever an opponent tries to trip or disarm you.

Noble Scion (Human bonus): You gain a +2 bonus on all Knowledge (nobility) checks, and Knowledge (nobility) is always a class skill for you. You also gain an additional benefit depending on which family you belong to. Lotheed: Your family ranks include the greatest wizards and arcane scholars in Taldor, and schooling in some of the most comprehensive arcane libraries in the Inner Sea was your birthright. If your Intelligence is 11 or higher, you gain the following spell-like abilities: 1/day—dancing lights, prestidigitation, read magic, unseen servant. The caster level for these effects is equal to one half your class level.

Proficiencies
A velvet blade is proficient with all simple and martial weapons, as well as with light armor.

Traits
Child of Oppara (Campaign): You gain a +1 trait bonus on Appraise and Knowledge (nobility) checks, and one of these skills is always a class skill for you. The Noble Scion feat (see the sidebar) does not have a Charisma prerequisite for you. In addition, you start play with a noble’s outfit, a signet ring, and a single additional nonmagical item worth no more than 200 gp.

Child of the Streets (Social): You grew up on the streets of a large city, and as a result you have developed a knack for picking pockets and hiding small objects on your person (Malia did not actually grow up on the streets, but has learned in her life to hide small things; see background). You gain a +1 trait bonus on Sleight of Hand checks, and Sleight of Hand is always a class skill for you.

=Skills and Skill-Related Abilities=
Skills
(6 + Int 1/level + +1 human + 1 favored class = 9 ranks; +2 background skills/level marked with *; all skills listed are class skills)
Acrobatics +7 (1 rank + 3 Dex + 3 class)
Appraise +2 (1 Int + 1 trait)
Bluff +6 (1 rank + 2 Cha + 3 class)
Climb + 2 (2 Str)
Craft (Sewing/Embroidery)* +5 (1 rank + 1 Int + 3 class)
Diplomacy +6 (1 rank + 2 Cha + 3 class)
Disguise +2 (2 Cha)
Heal +0 (0 Wis)
Intimidate +2 (2 Cha)
Knowledge (geography) (Int)
Knowledge (local) +5 (1 rank + 1 Int + 3 class)
Knowledge (nobility) +7 (1 rank + 1 Int + 3 class + 1 trait + 1 courtly graces)
Perception +4 (1 rank + 0 Wis + 3 class)
Perform (Dance)* +6 (1 rank + 2 Cha + 3 class)
Profession (Wis)
Ride +3 (3 Dex)
Sense Motive +4 (1 rank + 0 Wis + 3 class)
Sleight of Hand +8 (1 rank + 3 Dex + 3 class + 1 trait)
Stealth +7 (1 rank + 3 Dex + 3 class)
Survival +0 (0 Wis)
Swim +2 (2 Str)

Skill-Related Abilities
Courtly Graces (Ex): A velvet blade spends long hours memorizing etiquette and family lineages of royalty and other prominent families. She gains a bonus on Knowledge (nobility checks) equal to half her slayer level (minimum +1).

Languages: Taldane/Common, Azlanti

===EQUIPMENT===

=Worn/Equipped=
((If allowable, I imagine much of this gear “fluffed” for an appropriate noble’s appearance, so her backpack is a custom-made carrying case appropriate to her class, the belt pouch matches her outfit, the quilted cloth armor is a custom padded coat worn over the rest of her outfit, etc.))
Backpack, Masterwork (50 gp, 4 lbs; treat Str as 1 higher for encumbrance)
Belt Pouch (1 gp, ½ lb)
Necklace (150 gp, of gold and alexandrite-this is her “free” item of 200 gp or less from trait)
Noble’s Outfit (from trait; –)
Scarf (pocketed) (8 gp, ½ lb; An elaborate design disguises several small pockets on one side of this scarf. This scarf grants you a +4 bonus on Sleight of Hand checks made to hide objects on your body. This bonus does not stack with the bonus wearing heavy clothing provides but does stack with bonuses for attempting to hide small objects.)
Signet ring (from trait; –)
Quilted cloth armor (100 gp; 15 lbs), +1 armor, +8 max dex, ACP 0, grants DR 3/- vs arrows, bolts, darts, shuriken, thrown daggers, and other small ranged piercing weapons
Rapier (1d6/18-20x2 P; 20 gp, 2 lbs, agile)
Switchblade Knife (1d4/19-20x2 P; 5 gp, 1 lb, 10 ft., looks like a hair ornament) This knife has a springloaded blade hidden inside the handle. It can be designed to look like another type of object (a DC 15 Perception check reveals the deception). If held in your hand, you can activate it as a free action. This weapon is treated as a dagger. Source: Adventurer’s Armory, Page 5

=Hidden in Scarf=
Shard gel (25 gp, 1 lb)
Earplugs (3 cp, –)
Hip flask (1 gp, ½ lb), filled with whiskey (1 sp, ½ lb)
1 gp

=In Backpack=
Artisan’s Tools (Sewing/embroidery kit) (5 gp, 5 lbs)
Candlestick (1 sp, ½ lb)
Candles (x5) (5 cp/1 ea., –)
Cards (decent deck) (1 gp, –)
Gear maintenance kit (5 gp, 2 lbs)
Grooming kit (1 gp, 2 lbs)
Scrivener’s Kit (2 gp, 1 lb)
Traveler’s Outfit (1 gp, 5 lbs)
Waterproof bag (5 sp, ½ lb)

==In Scrivener’s Kit (in addition to its usual contents)==
Ink (8 gp, –)
Sealing wax (1 gp, 1 lb)
Stationery (x2) (2 gp)

==In waterproof bag (inside backpack)==
Honey (jar) (1 gp, ½ lb)
Mug (2 cp, 1 lb)
Tea (green) (1 lb, 4 cp)
Teapot (1 sp, 1 lb)

=In Belt Pouch=
Potion of shield of faith +1 (50 gp, –)
Tinder twig (x5) (5 gp, –)
Perfume (5 gp, 1 lb)
1 gp, 1 sp, 5 cp

Total current cash: 2 gp, 1 sp, 5 cp

Total Carry Weight: 46.5 lbs (25 if she is not carrying her backpack) (Max Light Load 66 lbs/without backpack 58 lbs)
Starting Gold: 300 gp from class + a single nonmagical item worth no more than 200 gp

Long and Overly Complicated Version, Subject to Revision
Maliah is third child and second daughter of Lord Darius Lotheed, related as a second cousin to other Lotheeds who possess higher ranks in the peerage. Her own family’s direct holdings are limited to an estate at the edge of Oppara, a fine manor and lands by anyone’s account, but little compared to Darius’s cousins’ duchies. Lord Darius always resented he was not higher in the hierarchy of Taldane peers and spend much of his time trying to gain further status and power, and earned as many allies as he did enemies. The rumor mill in Oppara is asserts he failed to repay the wrong favor which earned him the knife in his back, and the blame is often placed on a shadowmaster in House Varima, perhaps, or he *shudder* the Chells. Some suggests it was the housemaid who insists he fathered her child and who got thrown to the streets for it. Some think, no, perhaps his son Rabin orchestrated it so he could take over the house, but was smart enough to leave no proof, or perhaps it was his son-in-law (a Merosett married to Maliah’s sister Kilarra), as Darius had never fully paid him Kilarra’s dowry. What absolutely no one thinks, or at least no one has spoken aloud, was that Maliah was responsible, because Maliah is so flighty she can’t even keep her braid out of her wine goblet when attempting to flirt at a suitor.

That everyone thinks so is exactly how Maliah likes it.

When she was a child, Maliah’s tutors often thought her incapable of paying attention. She would argue that she paid attention to what was interesting, and what she did not find interesting were magic lessons. This of course was much to the dismay of her family, core and extended, who all were so well known for their arcane mastery. While she mastered a few basic cantrips, her tutors eventually despaired of her capacity to learn anything further. Her mother, who wanted Maliah to be able to defend herself in a world of both intrigue and invasion, dismissed the magic tutors and instead hired a governess, Azinda, who was a distant and relatively lower-born relative of House Karthis and was both skilled in history as well as a military veteran. Azinda trained Maliah in courtly niceties and arts expected of third children like embroidery, but taught her the ways of the blade. Moreover, Azinda taught Maliah the secrets behind the seemingly boring litanies of bloodlines and noble social rituals—that behind them were patterns that led to secrets upon secrets, and that if Maliah paid attention to these patterns and secrets and learned to use them to her advantage, she would hold far more power than any mage could have. Azinda also conveyed to Maliah the importance of stealth and subterfuge—after all, Maliah was more likely to be attending balls than battlefields, but that assassinations and worse could still befall her anywhere. Maliah had already figured out how to palm small objects—she used to do so when she was younger to convince her tutors she had in fact learned “magic”—and Azinda gifted her a “hair stick” which was in fact a switchblade knife so Maliah was never without means of defending herself. Azinda left the estate once Maliah came of age.

Left on her own, Maliah, dismissed by her family as flighty and stupid, began to play the noble world’s courtly games, and began paying attention while absolutely no one paid any attention to her: she paid attention when she saw her father dragging a giggling housemaid into the stables; to when the men her father visited with in his study had mannerisms that suggested a Cheliaxan background; to when her brother-in-law brooded every time he saw Darius… and so on. And she one day, paid attention when the men, who were ostensibly lesser nobles from an Opparan merchant house but whom she was sure had Chelish “tells,” invited her Darius and her mother to a lakeside picnic, she became worried and followed them. Hiding within a tree from a good ways away, but with an excellent view of the lakeside, she witnessed something horrid. Her mother stood, and pointed accusingly at one of the guests. He shouted something back at her, and the other whispered something in Darius’s ear. Darius paled, but grasped his wife’s hand, and after a struggle, he pushed her into the water and then held her down, the two guests simply watching coldly. Maliah could not climb down the tree in her skirts quickly enough to get to them, and she feared calling for help could get herself killed. By the time she was able to regroup, Darius was already back at the manor informing the household of her mother’s “tragic accident.” No one would believe the “flighty one” that something different had happened.

Maliah could not save her mother, but she could avenge her. She learned the servant’s ways to move through the house unseen by paying the seduced former housemaid generously, then snuck unto her father’s office to get proof of his dealings with the dodgy nobles and to boot found contracts signed to House Varima, and showed the latter to her brother Rabin—Darius’s heir—to show that he had nearly promised all of his inheritance to someone else for a deal to get an advisory position of rank in the city. At the next family gathering, she egged on her brother-in-law to push Darius for the rest of her sister’s dowry, and Rabin joined the fight to push for the inheritance. A shouting match led to a proposed magic duel—to the first person marked by magic, but not permanently hurt—where Darius had to defend himself from both son and son-in-law. Maliah excused herself halfway through, claiming shock and horror at the violence, and snuck back into her father’s office. Exhausted, Darius retired to his office to sulk, laid his head on his desk, and was never to lift it again, as Maliah came up behind him to stab him in the throat. Leaving the paperwork under his body so those who discovered him learned of his dodgy dealings and his Chelish contacts, she exited safely and quietly.

All assumed he had been assassinated by someone from his ambition-driven corrupt dealings. Rabin inherited and put his house in order, making sure the contact with Varima was annulled. While he knows Maliah knew about her father’s dodgy work and suspected mother’s death was foul play, he no more thinks Maliah killed her father than he did. He was a cruel and foolish man and his family had little love for him, but murder? Maliah wouldn’t have the heart or the brains for that.

Maliah went about her normal life, though stayed out of the spotlight—indeed, much as anyone whose family had such tragedy should. She is supposed to be finding a suitor to marry and give her family a good reputation in that way, but she has claimed she is too distraught over both parents’ deaths to court anyone. She thought, largely, no one would take notice of her again, or at least hoped it.

But then a few months later, she received a message from her cousin Martella Lotheed: “I know you’re not as dumb as you look. Come to the Exaltation Gala—and help me save Taldor.”

Possible hooks: Someone may know Maliah killed her father, and may either support her—or blackmail her. (I’d rather Martella not blackmail her, but it’s okay if she knows.) Circumstances about what her mother knew that caused Darius to kill her on his guests’ behalf could be hooks. Azinda the governess might be a link between Maliah and other organizations.

=Appearance=
Appearance Maliah is 20 years old, very tall, with long black hair with auburn streaks braided intricately into an elaborate up-do. She has pale brown skin and eyes of dark gold. She wears bright colors that complement her complexion, and always wears the gold and alexandrite pendant that was her mother’s, even if dressed down for incognito travel, outdoors entertainments, or adventure. As intrigues unfold in the capital, she has made sure that even when dressed for a gathering of the nobility, she is able to defend herself, concealing weapons and aids where she can and having her coat reinforced to help protect her from unexpected harm.

=Personality= Outwardly, Maliah is a giggly, fashion-obsessed spoiled noblewoman—in other words, what many expect a woman of her position to be. ((Player note, I want to take care that she plays this role well but I don't make her too annoying.)) But behind vapid smiles, she takes note of others’ body language and the things they say in case it’s useful information for her. Although she hated her father even before the shallow, vain man killed her mother, Maliah also possesses an ambitious streak. But unlike Darius, Maliah’s ambition is simply to remain comfortable and do as she pleases, and she knows the less people actually notice her—at least, as she really is—the better. She’d rather manipulate as needed behind the scenes, and make sure she is able to survive and thrive the tense politics as they escalate in the country.

=Botting=
In combat, work on feinting and flanking (unlike other slayers she doesn't get weapon attack/damage bonuses so having a studied target is less important except the bonuses to Bluff may be relevant to flanking. If hindering foes may be more useful (whether the effort is to avoid major damage being dealt or to set up a foe for a fellow party member, she will attempt trip or disarm maneuvers). For social combat, she will prioritize Bluff where it is useful and/or figure out what favors might help manipulate a target.

=Plans for Advancement=
I want to get a sense of how the game goes before committing to full build plans, especially as I think she is someone whose build can be tweaked depending on the party’s needs as a whole. This said, overall I want her to focus on deception, stealth, and finesse fighting (with feinting and dex-based maneuvers high on her list of tactics). Combat wise early on she can’t tank as hard as some heavier hitters, but she should be able to make a great flanking buddy who can hold her own next to other party members. For “social combat” and other forms of adventuring, she has navigating high class social scenes very well down and a scattering of other skills and resources that may come in handy. She is likely to just stay straight on Stalker, especially as the higher level velvet blade abilities are pretty cool and suitable for her, but depending on party makeup and where the story goes, I’m entertaining the idea of a few levels of shadowdancer if it would help the role she plays in the party

Such of the life of Andrus Le, an only child who was born into extravagance well into his adulthood. He was more than apt into the the lifestyle that was gifted into him from his parents. The doting did end up spoiling him to a point, taking the wealth that he had for granted.

That came to an end when the family ran into conflict with a young Maxillar Pythareus. A complication between the two he had yet to figure out what had the general to unveil a massive scandal; the two have come from a long line of crossdressers who first traveled to Taldor all those years ago and that the two have continued that practice to this day.

The scandal devastated their reputation and it wasn't long before both his parents lost their fortunes, and eventually their will to live. Forced to live in destitute in Oppara, Andrus had decided to find any way to get back into that lifestyle taken away from him. Using the skills he had learned from his parents, he poses as nobles who have conveniently been unable to attend their balls. It was a far cry from what he was used to, but he had been able to incur enough favors to make a decent living.

One day he came across a woman who saw through his latest disguise: Martella Lotheed. Instead of outing him on the spot she made an offer: help Princess Eutropia repeal a law so that she can become the next heir and she will personally restore his rank as a noble. The princess' reforms did not come across his mind, but the prospect of becoming a noble again interested him to no end. Andrus agreed to the terms for the time being as a mutual agreement. But perhaps he will learn to care for causes other than his own over time...

He is fully well-equipped into adopting the etiquette of Taldan society so as to fit in. When not under disguise he can be snarky and narcissistic but is well-aware enough to reign it in when needed.