Violant's Iron Gods (Inactive)

Game Master Violant

5’11, 188 lbs, a well muscled build, green eyes, brown hair going gray, short beard and mustache. The only clear clues to his aasimar heritage are that when he cries, his tears are multicoloured, and on his palm, he has a birthmark of butterfly (a symbol of Desna).

He is quiet and studious. A devout man, in his tribal terms, he looks to the spirits for guidance. He is lonely, his aasimar lifespan (and lesser age resistance SLA) have resulted in him being isolated from a tribe that has disappeared… Since coming to civilization , he has become a bit of a scholar, he is quick to pull out a good bottle of wine, his pipe, and to lose himself in a book of any kind. Still, he has the ability to concentrate on a project, especially those involving scholarship or magic.

Somewhere in the heritage of the Bone Bear tribe (a minor Kellid tribe), there’s a celestial in the woodpile… When Kieron got Sethra with child, a legacy resurfaced; their son Khoran was a aasimar. That was 152 years ago…

He was raised in typical tribal fashion, with his heritage leading him into a shamanic path. He learned at the feet of the elders, from leadership and dispute settling, through to the magic of the tribes. He spent many years with the Bone Bears. But all good things come to an end. The machinations of the Technic League, bringing the Black Sovereign to power, found the Bone Bears in the opposition. The Bone Bears were smashed in battle by the Black Sovereign’s forces, and unlike normal tribal warring, no mercy was shown to the defeated. The Bone Bears were no more...

His aasimar longevity (and his lesser age resistance SLA) though, has left him watching as his contemporaries aged to dust, sundering his bonds to the tribal life. He is very thankful that the spirits were wise enough to send him a spirit guide that could match his longevity – an Ioun Wyrd – otherwise he would be very lonely indeed. Intellectual curiosity has brought Khoran to Torch, where he has learned civilized ways, but has not lost his connection to the spirits of the land. He still makes pacts with the spirits on a daily basis and his Ioun Wyrd is with him always.

Khoran of the Bone Bears
CG Male Aasimar (Scion of Humanity)
Shaman 1 (Unsworn)
Init +2 = +2 (Dex)
Speed 30 ft
Darkvision 60 ft

Defense
AC: 17 = 10+2 (dex) + 4 (armor)+1 Natural Armor (familiar)
HP: 11 = 8+2 Con+1 FCB
Fort +2 = +0 Shaman 1+2(Con)
Ref +2 = +0 Shaman 1+2(Dex)
Will +5= +2 Shaman 1+3(Wis)
+2 vs compulsions (traits, net)
CMD : 13 =10 +0 (bab)+1 (str) + 2 (dex)
Acid resistance 5, Cold resistance 5, Electricity resistance 5.

Offense

BAB : +0
Melee: Longspear (1d8+1), Spiked Gauntlet (1d4+1)
Ranged: +2 Sling (1d4+1)
CMB : +1 = +0 (Bab)+1 (str)

Spells Prepared

L0 (DC 14, 3) : Guidance, Stabilize, Daze
L1 (DC 15, 1+1): ???, ???,

Current Hexes:

Stats
Str 12 = 12 (2 pts) -1 age (middle aged) +1 lesser age resistance SLA
Dex 14 = 14 (5 pts) -1 age (middle aged) +1 lesser age resistance SLA
Con 14 = 14 (5 pts) -1 age (middle aged) +1 lesser age resistance SLA
Int 14 = 13 (3 pts) +1 age (middle aged)
Wis 18 = 15 (7 pts) +2 Racial +1 age (middle aged)
Cha 16 = 12 (3 pts) +2 Racial +1 age (middle aged)

Feats: Flagbearer (1st), Healer’s Hands (3ed), Signature Skill (Heal) (5th),

Traits : Seeker (Social), Lonely(Drawback), Against the Technic League (IG, campaign trait, spells), Birthmark (Faith)

Skills (4+2(int) /lvl) (Ranks, skill roll. NOT INCLUDING ACP)
Diplomacy 1 rank +3 trained +2 cha,
Spellcraft 1 rank +3 trained +2 int,
Perception 1 rank +3 trained +3 wis,+1 trait
K Nature 1 rank +3 trained +2 cha+1 trait,
K Planes 1 rank +3 trained +2 int,
Heal 1 rank +3 trained +3 wis

Languages: Common, Hallit, Draconic,

Spells: A shaman casts divine spells drawn from the shaman spell list. A shaman must choose and prepare her spells in advance.
To prepare or cast a spell, a shaman must have a Wisdom score equal to at least 10 + the spell’s level. The saving throw DC against a shaman’s spell is 10 + the spell’s level + the shaman’s Wisdom modifier.
Like other spellcasters, a shaman can cast only a certain number of spells of each spell level per day. Her base daily spell allotment is given on Table 1–9. In addition, she receives bonus spells per day if she has a high Wisdom score (see Table 1–3 in the Pathfinder RPG Core Rulebook).
Shamans commune with their spirit animals to prepare their spells. Each shaman must choose a time when she must spend 1 hour each day in quiet contemplation with her spirit animal to regain her daily allotment of spells. A shaman can prepare and cast any spell on the shaman spell list, provided that she can cast spells of that level, but she must choose which spells to prepare during her daily communion.

Orisons: Shamans can prepare a number of orisons, or 0-level spells, each day as noted on Table 1–9. These spells are cast like any other spell, but they are not expended when cast and may be used again.

Minor Spirit (Su): At 1st level, the unsworn shaman also forms a temporary bond with a minor spirit each day, granting her access to a shaman or witch hex of her choosing, but not a major hex or a grand hex. She must make this selection each day when she prepares her spells for the day. Until she changes the minor spirit, she continues to have access to the shaman or witch hex. At 2nd level, she can instead select a hex from one of her wandering spirits selected for that day. If she selects a witch hex, she treats her shaman level as her witch level, and uses her Wisdom in place of her Intelligence for the purpose of that hex.
She can make temporary bonds with two minor spirits (thus gaining two hexes) at 4th level, and with one additional minor spirit (and hex) every 4 levels thereafter. This ability replaces spirit and alters hex.

Spirit Animal (Ex): At 1st level, a shaman forms a close bond with a spirit animal tied to her chosen spirit. This animal is her conduit to the spirit world, guiding her along the path to enlightenment. The animal also aids a shaman by granting her a special ability. See the Spirit Animal section on page 47.

A shaman must commune with her spirit animal each day to prepare her spells. While the spirit animal does not store the spells like a witch’s familiar does, the spirit animal serves as her conduit to divine power. If a shaman’s spirit animal is slain, she cannot prepare new spells or use her spirit magic class feature until the spirit animal is replaced.

Medium: Aasimars are Medium creatures and have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
Normal Speed: Aasimars have a base speed of 30 feet.
Darkvision: Aasimars can see in the dark up to 60 feet.
Celestial Resistance: Aasimars have acid resistance 5, cold resistance 5, and electricity resistance 5.
Languages: Aasimars begin play speaking Common and Celestial. Aasimars with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following languages: Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Gnome, Halfling, and Sylvan.
Scion of Humanity : Some aasimars’ heavenly ancestry is extremely distant. An aasimar with this racial trait counts as an outsider (native) and a humanoid (human) for any effect related to race, including feat prerequisites and spells that affect humanoids. She can pass for human without using the Disguise skill. This racial trait replaces the Celestial language and alters the native subtype.
Immortal Spark: Aasimars with this racial trait defy the powers of death. They gain a +2 bonus on Knowledge (history) checks and saving throws against death effects and can use lesser age resistance once per day as a spell-like ability. This racial trait replaces the skilled and spell-like ability racial traits.

Weapons (12.1 gp): Longspear (5 gp), 2 X Sling (on belt and a second hidden as a hairband) , Spiked Gauntlet (5 gp), Dagger (2 gp), 10 bullets (1 sp)
Armor (60 gp): Lamellar Leather (60gp)
Equipment (74.54 gp): Explorer’s outfit, heavy cloak (1 sp), wide brim hat (2 sp), backpack (2 gp), 50 ft hemp rope (1gp), String 50 ft (1 sp), belt pouch(1 gp), chalk (1 cp), flint and steel (1 gp), waterskin (1 gp), Rice Notepaper in a scrollcase (2 gp) , pen(1 sp), ink (8 gp), spell component pouch (5 gp), 2x Wooden Holy Symbol (2 gp), Wandermeal 5 days (5 cp), Healer’s Kit (50 gp),
Leather Familiar Barding 10 gp
23.3 gp.

Khoran’s spirit animal is an oddity, an Ioun Wyrd,
Ioun Wyrd, Sage familiar
N Tiny Construct
Init +2; Senses blindsight 30 ft.; Perception +2
Speed 0 ft., fly 30 ft. (average)
AC 18, touch 15, flat-footed 15 (+2 Dex, +1 Dodge, +2 size+1 Natural Armor+2 armor)
Hp 5
Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +4
Immune construct traits
Str 4, Dex 15, Con —, Int 6, Wis 14, Cha 5
Feats Dodge
Skills:
Fly +10 (1 rank +3 trained+2 dex+4 tiny)
1 additional ranks (1*{2-1int, min 1})
K(Arcana) +2 (1 rank +3 trained-2 int+0 Sage Knowledge)
Special Abilities
Improved Evasion (Ex): When subjected to an attack that normally allows a Reflex saving throw for half damage, a familiar takes no damage if it makes a successful saving throw and half damage even if the saving throw fails.
Share Spells: The shaman may cast a spell with a target of “You” on his familiar (as a touch spell) instead of on himself. A wizard may cast spells on his familiar even if the spells do not normally affect creatures of the familiar's type (magical beast).
Empathic Link (Su): The master has an empathic link with his familiar to a 1 mile distance. The master can communicate empathically with the familiar, but cannot see through its eyes. Because of the link's limited nature, only general emotions can be shared. The master has the same connection to an item or place that his familiar does.
Sage Skills: A sage treats all Knowledge skills as class skills.
Dazzling Intellect (Ex): A sage’s Intelligence score is always equal to 5 + its master’s class level, but it gains natural armor increases as if its master’s class level were half what of the actual class level.
This alters the familiar’s Intelligence score and natural armor adjustment.
Sage’s Knowledge (Ex): A sage stores information on every topic and is happy to lecture its master on the finer points of a subject. A sage can attempt all Knowledge checks untrained and gains a bonus on Knowledge checks equal to half its master’s class level. Additionally, a sage gains 2 skill ranks each time its master gains a class level. Its maximum number of ranks in any given skill is equal to its master’s class level.
This replaces alertness and the familiar’s ability to share its master’s skill ranks.
Equipment: Leather Familiar Barding

Special Abilities
Alertness (Ex): While a familiar is within arm's reach, the master gains the Alertness feat.
Improved Evasion (Ex): When subjected to an attack that normally allows a Reflex saving throw for half damage, a familiar takes no damage if it makes a successful saving throw and half damage even if the saving throw fails.
Share Spells: The wizard may cast a spell with a target of “You” on his familiar (as a touch spell) instead of on himself. A wizard may cast spells on his familiar even if the spells do not normally affect creatures of the familiar's type (magical beast). Empathic Link (Su): The master has an empathic link with his familiar to a 1 mile distance. The master can communicate empathically with the familiar, but cannot see through its eyes. Because of the link's limited nature, only general emotions can be shared. The master has the same connection to an item or place that his familiar does.
Deliver Touch Spells (Su): If a shaman is 3rd level or higher, her spirit animal can deliver touch spells or hexes for her. If the shaman and the spirit animal are in contact at the time the shaman casts a touch spell, she can designate her animal as the “toucher.” The spirit animal can then deliver the touch spell just as the shaman would. If the shaman casts another spell before the touch is delivered, the touch spell dissipates. If the shaman activates a hex, her spirit animal can be used to make the touch; she doesn’t have to be in contact with the animal to use this ability with hexes.
Speak with Master (Ex): If the master is 5th level or higher, a familiar and the master can communicate verbally as if they were using a common language. Other creatures do not understand the communication without magical help.
Speak with Animals of Its Kind (Ex): If the master is 7th level or higher, a familiar can communicate with animals of approximately the same kind as itself (including dire varieties): bats with bats, cats with felines, hawks and owls and ravens with birds, lizards and snakes with reptiles, monkeys with other simians, rats with rodents, toads with amphibians, and weasels with ermines and minks. Such communication is limited by the Intelligence of the conversing creatures.

Hashna is no sight for sore eyes. Rather, she is the visual ache presupposed by the idiom. A daddy-long-legs given human form, the young woman is an awkward assemblage of gangly limbs and stretched skin, tall and thin beyond any reasonable measure. Standing some 6’9’’, Hashna’s imposing height could have garnered respect among her fellow Kellids; physical prowess ranks highly among Kellid virtues. Paranoia ranks higher still, however, and Hashna is so far beyond the norm that some suspect her corrupted by the mysterious blight poisoning their land. While prodigiously tall, Hashna is no exemplar of athletic ability; too many harsh years replete with constant struggle for survival yet lacking in any steady diet have rendered her painfully thin. If beanstalks grew in barren Numeria, people would compare her thusly. Instead they reach for the stick figure totems employed by witches and shamans, finding ill omen in both.

Of course, tribal Kellids are similarly unfamiliar with books. As such, many have never learned not to judge a book by its cover. Because Hashna is strong, terribly strong, stronger than any draft horse pound-for-pound. Like whittling a branch into a club, the same harsh circumstances that have fashioned her into the almost sickly-looking creature she is today, have also conditioned her. On closer inspection Hashna’s limbs, while thin for the lanky frame, are corded over with lean muscle. No well-fed strongman, this is the musculature of a starved tiger, all sinewy cords under emaciated skin, almost grotesque in its transparency. It should then go without saying that Hashna has little to offer in the way of traditional womanly charms, even excepting her non-existent social graces. With no chest to speak of, sharp facial features, and hair haphazardly shorn with a none too sharp dagger, she is sometimes mistaken for a man.

Yet those brave few who look into the dark eyes find no animal cunning there. Although the brow above them is frequently found scowling - more so an involuntary defence mechanism than an expression of animosity - Hashna’s eyes are open and curious, even introspective, if dull with the determination of the simpleminded. They betray her young age where hard living has prematurely aged the rest of her.

Hashna opened her eyes. The sky above her was cold and dark. The earth beneath her was rugged and hard; something dug into her back. It was beginning to rain. But the ground was already wet. She raised a leaden arm. The blood encrusting it wasn’t hers. She was still alive.

Mind slowly catching up to reality, her breath came out quicker now, nostrils flaring. No. Don’t panic. Grum beat her when she was scared. Was Grum alive? The thought was sudden and intrusive as an arrow through flesh. No. No, she remembered now. He had led the charge against the metal beast. She had seen it shear him in half. A rain drop brushed her cheek. What was this feeling? Should she feel sad? Should she feel guilty for not feeling sad?

She turned her head with some struggle. There was a corpse beside her, the owner of the dried blood. A clan member of hers. She couldn’t tell who – too mangled. There were more lying beyond it. They were on her other side too, she knew, strewn about like so much cut reed. Her entire clan.

Of course, the so-called Flesh Tearers were no more a clan than a gaggle of crazed Mendevian crusaders were a church. Hashna did not understand this, but she knew – as children know – that they were different. A clan comprised a community, a family. It provided, built and empowered. It had a future. Conversely, Grum’s Flesh Tearers only killed, robbed and tore down, even among their own. They had no future. For theirs was a warband, plain and simple. Worse still was that they weren’t even a particularly good one. A band united only in spite against their respective clan elders, no one among the Kellid ever afforded them anything but scorn and rightly so, a tiny parody of a true clan. Elders projected that harsh Numeria would grind them down within the decade. Ten years is not a long time. But it is just enough to turn child into something approximating an adult.

This had been their eleventh year. And now they were gone.

Hashna felt a searing pain in her abdomen. She pulled back her other hand. She hadn’t realized she’d been clutching her side. More blood, fresh. She was bleeding. Her gut? She remembered the metal beast and its thundering cannons, the strange little steel bolts that felled warriors by the dozens. Had it shot her in the gut? She hoped not. That was an ugly death, a slow death.

She remembered telling Grum, many summers ago, that she wasn’t bleeding anymore. He didn’t understand what she meant. His piggish eyes had scrunched together; she knew to be wary at that. She explained that she hadn’t had her monthly flow for three months. Hashna was quite proud of this. The women told her that this wasn’t right, that a woman was supposed to bleed, but Grum had taught her that, “Spilling blood was the right of the strong.” The strong did not bleed. Only the weak bled. She hoped he would be proud of her. Instead he had beaten her. He pummelled her to the ground, stomped on her, all the while demanding to know, “what stupid boy she had lain with.” Hashna hadn’t known what this meant. He called her ugly words, words she didn’t recognize then. At one point she had cried out, calling him “da”, trying to make him stop. Grum hated when she called him that and beat her harder.

How was the girl to know that her body fat was so low and her diet so infrequent that it had halted her period?

She blinked at the rain drops. The sky was darker now, fiercer. Hashna recognized now that she was drifting in and out of consciousness; time was slipping from her. Where had that memory come from? She hadn’t thought of it in years. She maneuvered her head again, looking to her side: all one giant patch of blood. But not flowing anymore. Had it stemmed? Yes. The steel bolts hadn’t nested in her guts, instead passing clean through her side. She would live. Yes. She couldn’t die here. She had to live. She had to live because she was strong. And because she was strong, she would live. The circular logic made sense in her delirious mind. The young woman tried rising. Her limbs felt heavy as any of the metal men’s. And yet those automatons moved just fine. The thought spurred her on. The metal beast had spilled her blood. It had killed her clan. It was strong. She had to be stronger.

It took hours and another bout of unconsciousness before Hashna was standing again, and this on legs unsteady as a newborn doe's. She looked at the barren plain, at the remains of the only family she had known. Not knowing what to say, she said nothing. Instead she gathered what weapons and armor she cared to use off them. In pillaging their corpses, she knew what she had to do. She had to ensure nothing like this could ever befall her again. She had to prove herself to Grum, to her clan, to all of Numeria. She had to prove her pain worthwhile. She had to become stronger still, stronger than any metal beast. Had to – this was not a want or a yearning, but a need and a must. She had to stand strongest in all of Numeria.

Only then would her life have meaning.

This is the Hashna that days later stumbles into the Foundry, Khonnir Baine's tavern, battered and bruised to hear of disturbances in the town of Torch.

For someone with a stated goal as juvenile as ‘standing strongest in all of Numeria’, Hashna is strangely meek in demeanour. Of course, when coupled with her impressive frame many interpret this diffidence as some sort of stoic hardass attitude. In truth, the young woman is an introspective soul, not revelling in strength or violence, but rather using it to validate her own existence. Life hasn’t been kind to Hashna. Whether she becomes the greatest warrior of all is the difference between all her hardships having been worth it, or whether she is what she suspects deep down: just the result of an abusive childhood. Not being able to accept the latter, Hashna goes with the former, no matter how infantile.

Single-minded goals like these tend to pair poorly with the simpleminded, and Hashna is no exception. She is driven like few others, knowing no other purpose in life. As such she has little to no interest in lofty ethics, gods, philosophy or other fanciful notions people cleverer than her subscribe to. She is, however, a Kellid. Honor being a chief virtue among the clans, Hashna tries to be fair and decent to – once again – an almost childlike degree. After all, every Kellid is kin to some degree. Foreigners are another matter, but even so she keeps her promises, and is loyal to a fault.

All this said, the young woman doesn't know herself especially well. Her upbringing not having given her much in the way of social graces, she can be comically serious at times, missing social cues entirely. While self-aware enough to feel awkward at this, Hashna tells herself - against her better judgement - that she will find self-fulfilment only in being the strongest in Numeria.

If one were looking for an adjective to describe Zeldones, it would be "ratlike." Were it not for the impossibility of such a thing, one might suspect him of having some ysoki in his family tree--his short stature, long but wispy mustache, and narrow features certainly suggest it.

Zeldones came to Torch from Iadenveigh in his early teens, ostensibly hunting robots (though the apparent lack of communication with his family may indicate that there's more to his departure than he's saying). His powers of lightning casting certainly served him well in that avocation...well enough that his reflexive and ingrained distrust of technological items was tolerated. Little by little he began to see the usefulness of technological weapons against the metal menaces that hunted the hinterlands of Numeria, especially those that were insulated against his powers. Eventually he resolved to learn as much about the source of their strange abilities as he could, starting with the alien language that so much about advanced technology was written in. Before he could do more than that, though, Torch's namesake feature guttered out, and when the town called for volunteers to investigate he stepped up.