Council of Thieves: Dragoncat Edition (Inactive)

Game Master Dragoncat

==DEFENSIVE ABILITIES==
AC 17 Touch 14 Flat-Footed 13 (Armor 3 + Dexterity 4); CMD 15
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +1 (Con 1 + Base 0); Ref +6 (Dex 4 + Base 2); Will +2 (Wis 2 + Base 0); +1 vs mind-affecting cast by devils)
Resistances Cold 5, Electricity 5, Fire 5

==OFFENSIVE AND OTHER COMBAT ABILITIES==
BAB +0; CMB +1
Melee
Bite +4 (1d6+1/x2 P)
Short Sword +4 (1d6+1/19-20x2 P)
Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20x2 P or S)

Ranged
Dagger +4 (1d4+1/19-20x2 P or S; 10 ft.)

Finesse Training (Ex): Gains Weapon Finesse as a bonus feat.

Maw or Claw: This tiefling exhibits a powerful, toothy maw that deals 1d6 points of damage. These attacks are primary natural attacks. This racial trait replaces the spell-like ability racial trait.

Prehensile Tail: Many tieflings have tails, but some have long, flexible tails that can be used to carry items. While they cannot wield weapons with their tails, they can use them to retrieve small, stowed objects carried on their persons as a swift action. This racial trait replaces fiendish sorcery.

Sneak Attack (+1d6): Deals extra damage anytime her target would be denied a Dexterity bonus to AC (whether the target actually has a Dexterity bonus or not), or when the rogue flanks her target. This extra damage is 1d6 at 1st level and increases by 1d6 every 2 rogue levels thereafter. Ranged attacks count as sneak attacks only if the target is within 30 feet. This additional damage is precision damage and is not multiplied on a critical hit. With a weapon that deals nonlethal damage (such as a sap, unarmed strike, or whip), a rogue can make a sneak attack that deals nonlethal damage instead of lethal damage. She cannot use a weapon that deals lethal damage to deal nonlethal damage in a sneak attack—not even with the usual –4 penalty. The rogue must be able to see the target well enough to pick out a vital spot and must be able to reach such a spot. A rogue cannot sneak attack while striking a creature with total concealment.

==STATISTICS AND OTHER ABILITIES==
Str 14 (+2) Dex 18 (+4) Con 13 (+1) Int 14 (+2) Wis 14 (+2) Cha 8 (-1)
(25 Point Buy, Tiefling +2 to Dex & Int, -2 to Cha)

=Feats=
Combat Expertise (L1): Take a –1 penalty on melee attack rolls and combat maneuver checks to gain a +1 dodge bonus to AC. When base attack bonus reaches +4, and every +4 thereafter, the penalty increases by –1 and the dodge bonus increases by +1. You can only choose to use this feat when you declare that you are making an attack or a full-attack action with a melee weapon. The effects of this feat last until your next turn.

Weapon Finesse (L1, Class bonus): Use Dex instead of Str on attack rolls with light or finessable weapons. If using a shield, penalty applies.

Proficiencies: All simple weapons, plus the hand crossbow, rapier, sap, short sword, and shortbow; light armor.

=Traits=
Pragmatic Activator (Magic): While some figure out how to use magical devices with stubborn resolve, your approach is more pragmatic. You may use your Intelligence modifier when making Use Magic Device checks instead of your Charisma modifier.

Diabolist Raised (Campaign): All your life you’ve lived within the grip of devil-possessed Cheliax. You care little for the religion of your country, but that is the way of life in the most magnificent empire in the world, and who are you to question the faith of the empire’s rulers? Certainly not a fool like some of your more idealistic acquaintances, possessed of bizarre ideals about personal freedoms and egalitarian rulership—who can say whatever happened to them? You know of Hell and the rigidity of its grim rulers, you’ve seen devils and how they might be employed to the betterment of those with the might to control them, and you know of the dark faith of your country. You might not be a devil worshiper yourself, but there are realities to living in Cheliax, and it’s always good to know what’s really going on behind the scenes. Your knowledge of diabolism grants you a +1 bonus on Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, and Sense Motive checks made against Westcrown’s nobility, and a +1 bonus on all saving throws made against mind-affecting attacks from devils.

=Skills and Skill-Related Abilities=
Skills
(8 + 2 Int/level +1 favored class = 11 plus 2 background skills/level marked with *)
Acrobatics +8 (1 rank + Dex 4 + 3 class)
Appraise +6* (1 rank + 2 Int + 3 class)
Bluff +5 (1 rank + Cha -1 + 3 class + 2 race) (+1 vs Westcrown nobility)
Climb +6 (1 rank + Str 2 + 3 class)
Disable Device +8 (1 rank + Dex 4 + 3 class) (+1 to disarm magical traps)
Knowledge (dungeoneering) +6 (1 rank + 2 Int+ 3 class)
Knowledge (local) +6 (1 rank + 2 Int+ 3 class)
Perception +6 (1 rank + 2 Wis + 3 class) (+1 to find magical traps)
Profession (courier)* +6 (1 rank + 2 Wis + 3 class)
Sense Motive +6 (1 rank + 2 Wis + 3 class) (+1 vs Westcrown nobility)
Sleight of Hand +8 (1 rank + 4 Dex + 3 class)
Stealth +10 (1 rank + 4 Dex + 3 class +2 race)
Use Magic Device +5 (1 rank + Int +2 + 3 class) (+1 to activate scrolls and wands)

Languages Common, Abyssal, Chelish, Draconic, Infernal

Magical Expertise (Ex) (+1): At 1st level, a counterfeit mage adds 1/2 level to Disable Device checks to disarm magical traps, Perception checks to find magical traps, and Use Magic Device checks to activate scrolls and wands. A counterfeit mage can use Disable Device to disarm magic traps. This ability replaces trapfinding.

Skilled: Tieflings gain a +2 racial bonus on Bluff and Stealth checks.

==EQUIPMENT==
Dagger x4 (2 gp; 1 lb) (1d4/19-20x2 P or S; 10 ft)
Short Sword (10 gp; 2 lbs) (1d6/19-20x2 P)
Studded Leather Armor (25 gp; 20 lbs) (+3 Armor, +5 Max Dex, -1 ACP)

Scroll of prestidigitation (12.5 gp; -)

Adventurer's Sash (20 gp; 3 lbs)
Ale (gallon) (2 sp; 8 lbs)
Backpack (2 gp; 2 lbs)
Blanket (5 sp, 3 lbs)
Bread (2 loaves) (2 cp each, 1/2 lb each)
Crowbar (2 gp; 5 lbs)
Flint and steel (1 gp; -)
Gear Maintenance Kit (5 gp; 2 lbs)
Grooming kit (1 gp; 2 lbs)
Marbles (1 sp; 2 lbs)
Sealing wax (1 gp; 1 lb)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Tankard (2 cp; 1 lb)
Thieves’ Tools (30 gp; 1 lb)
Waterproof bag (5 sp; 1/2 lb)
Waterskin (1 gp; 4 lbs)

Cash: 15 gp, 1 sp, 4 cp

Starting Wealth: 140 gp (Spent: 124.86)
Max light load: 58 lbs

Her habits of never being still and sneaking off when unmonitored made Igni and her housekeeper Zora decide to make use of Whysper as a courier when she was a bit older. This allowed her to wander around but give her enough structure and purpose to keep her accountable. Indeed, Whysper didn’t necessarily have much regard for her mother (she was only vaguely aware, as a child, that they were related at all) or her house, but she liked to be useful, and she liked to be thought of as useful because it was then less likely she would be beaten or fed to an imp. So Whysper did as she was told and actually became quite a good messenger, delivering items not only directly to houses but also leaving dead drops and getting into places to leave “messages” (probably, magic glyph traps wrapped into an envelope, which she learned very quickly to recognize and not trigger) where she wasn’t technically supposed to be. As a side effect, she also became good at listening and picking up on information about the other houses as well as her own, and she learned that this gossip was sometimes valuable to others.

Now an adult, Whysper still lives nominally under House Mezina’s roof but largely works as an independent professional courier. House Mezina tolerates her as being under their roof because the information she feeds them is valuable enough to let her think she has some degree of her own freedom (and she is aware they see it that way). Whysper is discreet and is good at getting dirt from fellow tieflings and servants, or at least at listening to them.

Lately she’s picked up on some particularly odd rumors, like the suggested existence of the Council of Thieves. She’s begun to wonder if she can use what she’s learning to get herself a more solid, and safer, standing in the city—or even help make her own dent in the city’s structures to carve out a niche for her to thrive in.

=Physical Traits/Appearance=
As long as she doesn’t open her mouth and her tail remains concealed beneath her cloak, Whysper either fades into the crowd or, if someone notices her, sees her as looking a bit ill and thus probably best avoided. Of average height and build on the gaunt-side, she has a plain, unremarkable face with dark hair and sickly-pale skin. Perhaps her nicest feature is her grey eyes, but even then, at least if she’s not focused on you, they look a little dull and hollow. And then… then Whysper smiles. That’s when half her face erupts in a disconcerting sea of jagged, white, razor-sharp teeth. Sometimes a little blood still stains them from her recently biting someone who thought they might think she was a helpless mark.

Whysper favors blacks and grays, with hints of blue or purple for color. Her combat leathers are black. Sometimes her particular fashion choices change to suit the trends of the area she’s in (the better to go unnoticed), but she always wears a long dark grey cloak, which serves the purpose of hiding her tail when she feels she needs to—and hiding any number of other things as well. Otherwise she goes for practical fabrics that are easy to maintain, hide in, and don’t snag on things when she sneaks around.

Her voice is quiet and raspy, and talking past her teeth is a bit troublesome, so she tends to keep things short.

=Personality=
Whysper is pragmatic, largely focused on surviving and not being noticed by the wrong people—but this is tempered by an enduring curiosity. She would never admit it to anyone but she takes great joy in discovery, especially when it involves getting an odd arcane trinket to work. When her survivalism and curiosity is at odds, there’s about a 50/50 chance one or the other wins out, but as she gets older and more assured of her own capabilities, curiosity is starting to win out.

Fiend-blooded and raised in a Chelish household, Whysper knows little compassion because she’s seldom been shown it. At the same time, she’s never found a point to cruelty, and she has some empathy for servants and tieflings under the thumb of literally diabolic masters. She tends to do for herself first, her loyalties second, and if anyone else gets left behind after that, that’s their problem. Still, she understands being a lone wolf can be as dangerous as being too reliant on others, and while she’s not exactly charming, she can work with others well enough. She is simply careful about whom she chooses as an ally, knowing trust is the greatest and rarest commodity there is in Westcrown.

Rising from minor scullery to eventually reach the vaulted title - for a halfling - of House Maid of the Second Guest Suite of the Third Floor was probably the best she could hope for and she enjoyed her life for the most part.

Things all changed when Lady Meturna determined that Westcrown no longer held the cachet that it once had and maneuvered for the household to take up residence in Egorian. The transition took over a month to plan and execute.

The fact that the new household would be much larger and that Luluto would effectively be demoted didn't diminish the halfling's excitement for the move. Her excitement did take a hit, though, when she returned from an minor - but involved - errand to find the manor locked and the last of the wagons having left ... without her.

Her initial disbelief was followed by frustration and then anger. Her attempts to explain what had happened to the city guard when she was prevented from following after them on the road were met with typical Chelaxian beauacracy. She couldn't leave the city without authorization from her Household. Her arguments that the entire household was already travelling on the road were responded to with an uncaring shrug.

Two days of being passed from lesser officiant to middling officiant and then back was a sore trial for the ever-cheerful halfling. When it was determined that she would need to be held as property of the city until such time as Lady Meturna could be contacted, Luloto decided that enough was enough. She'd seen what became of the city slaves - especially ones as pretty as she was. Having lived her life in the system, she knew where the cracks were and took advantage of that knowledge to slip through them.

Now loose and house-free, she's decided to see what life under her own direction has to offer.

Titania Olivia Thrune is one of the daughters of a secretive cadet branch of the house, Thrune's veiled left hand holding a vicious dagger. When something must be done and no survivors left, it is they that the Imperatrix sends in. Almost from birth, the members of this side of the family are trained to be weapons, tools for the diabolic tyrant. Instead of courtly manners and the classical education expected of Chelish high society, they learn to fight and that is all they are expected to know. Their one destiny, their one purpose is to be the loyal dogs of the empire's royal house.

But even Hell's best cannot be perfect in their cruelty. While Titania learned to fight, she never lost some sliver of innocence and empathy. Perhaps it was her reserved nature, her lack of confidence that kept her quiet, or some miracle worked by the gods that are tirelessly pulling at the edges of Cheliax's control to undo the devil-worshipping empire that let her grow up in under the eaves of House Thrune without turning into an unthinking killer as the higher branch of the family wanted.

It was a raid on a small caravan passing through the Chelish highlands that shattered Titania's world. Something always rang hollow and false to her in the teachings she was exposed to everyday, but she was not prepared for the brutality she would witness that night, the night she and her fellows were to be blooded and take their first steps into the ranks of Thrune's hidden weapons.

Titania realized they were no threat to the Empire of Cheliax as soon as she saw them. They were singing happily as they went about making camp and preparing their supper. She wanted to say as much, but fear of the price of disobedience stayed her tongue. She waited, hoping, silently pleading, that the attack would be called off. The signal came, and the others she was with descended on the camp. She watched in horror for a few moments before slipping off into the night, tears running down her face and a small voice in her mind whimpering as what she saw played over and over again in her mind.

Tot, as she went by after that night, drifted from town to town for the next six months. She took whatever work she could and hunted game whenever she couldn't earn enough for her meals. She wound up in Westcrown. Rumors of dark, shadowy monsters stalking the folk of the city and killing or making off with them flew on the wind. Tot wondered if it was perhaps some of her realitives, but Westcrown was seen as a backwater with no value beyond being the one time capital of the empire. A dying ember of a dead faith and nothing more. But if not her erstwhile family, then who?

Curiosity, she is learning, is the curse of intelligence.

While she lacks confidence in most things, she knows her own physical strengths and prowess, and can almost come off as reckless at times with her actions.

She does like to draw, having picked up the hobby after learning how to make maps as part of her training. She left all of her tools behind, however.

His parents made good on their promise, using their talents with thievery and thuggery to keep Cassynder safe from the thugs and gangs that ran Rego Cader's dilapidated streets. Unfortunately, when he was still a child, a terrible disease swept through the sector. Both his parents became infected, and he knew loss for the first time when they passed and were piled with the rest of the corpses to be burned. He stood at the pyre, crying in fear and grief, wondering what would become of him now. Fate provided and answer in the form of an older tiefling boy who watched the lad and offered a raggedy coat to him. The boy called himself Palaveen, and said he knew a place where Cassynder could stay.

Palaveen brought Cassynder to an old apartment building he shared with a band of other tiefling youths, some orphans, others just friends. He told him that no one was going to look out for them in this city, in this world, and that it was up to tieflings to stick together and help one another. Cassynder was comforted by these words, reminded of his parents. Unfortunately, Palaveen had other plans. He and the other tieflings in the ruined apartment were a gang of pickpockets and con-artists, stealing things from the richer parts of Westcrown to survive, and Palaveen had just recruited Cassynder to be their newest member. In order to be protected from others and get enough food to survive, Cassynder was instructed to work, first by doing minor things like cooking and cleaning while the others were away, but soon he was brought out of Rego Cader for the first time to participate in a scam.

Cassynder was blown away by the city outside the Dead Sector, a beautiful city of white marble and golden towers. Palaveen, however, said it was a disgusting place, full of humans who wouldn't hesitate to spit on him or even kill him if they felt like it. So, he reasoned, Cassynder should feel no guilt in distracting a particularly fat trader so Palaveen could nick his purse. Cassynder did as he was told, and Palaveen noticed he had a knack for appearing innocent, for getting past the defenses the avereage Chelish citizen normally put up when encountering tieflings. He used this to his advantage, having Cassynder butter up or deceive various marks before Palaveen closed the trap. For years, Cassynder did Palaveen and the gang's bidding, earning a small amount of respect for his persuasiveness, until he was about twelve, when things changed.

Palaveen had become more avaricious and more cruel in the days since he first recruited Cassynder, and decided that small-time things like pickpocketing and shell games were beneath the gang's caliber. He began to do work for larger, more ruthless gangs, having his friends run errands for them, and even perform protection rackets within Rego Cader, extorting money from the already downtrodden. Cassynder was ordered to turn on his charm to persuade people to part with their coin, food or whatever else was wanted, or risk a beating. This never sat well with Cassynder, especially as it was no longer rich strangers he was taking from, but from the gang's neighbors and some people he'd even befriended in this time by sharing his portion of the take. Eventually things came to a head when he and Palaveen got into an argument about the direction the gang was taking. Palaveen tried to assert his authority over the younger boy, but Cassynder declared that Palaveen was betraying the lessons he'd taught him as a child. Cassynder finally decided enough was enough, that he'd leave with his friends and start his own gang. Palaveen was furious, and after Cassynder left the room, took drastic steps. He contacted a press-gang from the neighboring Rego Cura, where the slave market was, that had been running though the Dead Sector lately looking for easy prey, and offered Cassynder to them. Tieflings were cheap and they weren't very interested, so Palaveen sweetened the pot by offering up Cassynder's friends in the bargain. And that night, the apartment was raided, and strong humans with wicked smiles and strong arms set upon those Palaveen pointed out. Cassynder was horrified and crushed by what happened, crying again as Palaveen jeered and harangued him as the kids were dragged away. Before the group could reach the gates of Cura, however, they were set upon by a roving pack of shadow beasts. It was just the moment Cassynder needed to escape, he and the other kids scattering into the streets as the men were trapped and killed.

Cassynder didn't know what to do now. There was no place for him in Rego Cader, the only home he'd ever known. There was no place for him in the other Paregos either. Tieflings had to stick together, and he'd lost even that connection. He was truly alone. Desperate and afraid, Cassynder did something he'd previously thought unthinkable. He left Westcrown behind, running into the woods north of the city until he could go no further, and curled up in a hollow beneath the roots of an old tree, where he cried himself to sleep. And as he slept, he dreamed. The dream was vague, at first, just snow and stone, until finally his vision cleared and he saw an imposing building before him, like a temple or something, with a sword wreathed in light above the great double-doors. When the sun's real light awoke Cassynder, he found the image of that temple and its sword staying in his mind. He decided that, if there was no other place for him, he might as well try to find that place.

It took him almost a year to do so, wandering from town to town, begging his bread and sleeping in doorways, searching for any scraps of information about such a place. His wandering led him east, through the Whisperwood and high into the Aspodell Mountains. It was here, on a snowy winter dawn that he found the Monastery of the Upper Reach. He pounded on the door and was greeted by a cadre of surprised monks. He told his story to them and though they listened, he soon found the door shut in his face. After all, how could a tiefling be called to this holy temple of Iomedae? He tried again and again, begging for admittance, telling them he had nowhere else to go, until the door opened again and he almost put his fist in the face of a stern and imposing woman, who said only one thing: "I believe you."

This person, Abbess Helsan Torvill, brought Cassynder into the monastery and gave him a meal, sitting with him while he'd had the best meal in his entire life. Helsan said she'd been told in a dream that a pilgrim would come, seeking something he didn't understand, and he would be the greatest student she'd ever taught. Though she admitted even she was somewhat surprised that this pilgrim turned out to be a tiefling, she knew the goddess didn't pick cowards for her chosen ones. She offered Cassynder the opportunity to join her order, the Children of the Upper Reach, and having no better options, faced with the first person to treat him with true kindness in years, Cassynder agreed.

Cassynder spent the next ten years among the Children, learning their special form of martial arts, the melekatha style. Abbess Torvill also taught him how to read and write, and inducted him into the faith of Iomedae. While most of the other monks were still skeptical that a devil-spawn could serve the Inheritor in any capacity, but over the years, Cassynder showed his dedication, willing to put up with any pummeling they could bring upon him in sparring, a fearless struggle to keep his anger at the world under control. He slowly won over the other monks, rising through the ranks of the order, studying at the feet of the Abbess herself.

Ten years later, the Abbess approached Cassynder while he meditated, and had him walk with her. She revealed that she had nothing more to teach him. She had given him the tools he would need to work Iomedae's will in the world. He was stunned, even a little hurt, feeling he was being cast out, but the Abbess assured him it was not because he was the least of them, but the greatest, just as her dream implied. It was now his sacred duty to carry melekatha away from the monastery and into Cheliax as a whole. His path was now his own. Cassynder nodded. He knew the perfect place to start. Where it all began: Westcrown.

Inquiring; One of the most surprising changes Cassynder's life in the monastery brought him was an education. Not only did the monks teach him martial arts and the Acts of Iomedae, but how to read and write, and how to question and seek truth. Now that his teachers have nothing left to teach him, Cassynder is always seeking opportunities to learn, hoping each one is a step closer to enlightenment.

Patient; A core principle of the melekatha style is to watch and wait, observing one's opponent, gaining a sense for their energy and how best to turn it back upon them. Cassynder works to perfect this method, avoiding striking the first blow and trying to wear down opponents. He's struggling to show this kind of patience outside of combat.

Vengeful; Despite his new philosophy and faith, Cassynder hasn't forgotten Palaveen's betrayal all those years ago. This rage has festered over the years into a hatred of injustice that he struggles to control in a very unjust city. While it is something he's improving on, he still has much to understand about mercy and redemption, things his childhood had neither of.

Loyal; Even as his trust was toyed with and abused in the past, Cassynder remains staunchly loyal to those who he considers his friends. He's more careful with his trust now than he was as a youth, but that's just common sense in Cheliax. Those who share his vision of a Westcrown free of fear and injustice will find him a tireless ally.

Austere; Having grown up poor and having lived as an ascetic for ten years, Cassynder has learned how to survive without much. He values potent magical weaponry, especially swords, but luxuries like big houses or expensive clothing or rich food are pointless in his eyes. If he does receive gifts, he prefers pragmatic ones and tends to pay them forward by giving them to others who may need them more than he does.

Cassynder is a tall, athletic man, appearing much more healthy and well-groomed than the average tiefling peasant. His red eyes are, ironically, overshadowed by what appear to be flames backlighting his pupils. He has angular features, and a goatee. His black hair is tied into a thick rope-like braid. His horns emerge from his forehead and curve upwards over his head, like an ibex or a rosethorn ram, leading them to knock on low doorways. He dresses in white robes that combine the aesthetics of Tian Xia with traditional Chelaxian styles, with a red band along the edges, as well as a peacock feather tucked into his belt. He eschews a hood because his horns get in the way. Tucked into his belt is a hook-like dagger.