Rise of the Runelords

Game Master Veniir

I am an experienced poster who generally can post once a day to every two days. I will communicate when I can't post or if I have concerns that can be easily resolved through civil discussion. I can point to prior GMs and players who can vouch for me as a player if needed.

I've also gotten into disagreements with some GMs--and chose to leave games as a result--over one of two issues:
1. I advocate for player agency; save for obvious circumstances (e.g., consented-to botting, GMs performing standard issue Perception or Sense Motive checks for PCs, GMs summarizing combat actions already made, mind control), players should describe their own PCs' actions, feelings, and reactions, and neither GMs nor other players should write those things for them.

2. Given we are in a public global forum full of strangers, I do not wish my PCs to engage in scenarios involving flirtation, propositions, romance, affectionate or intimate touching, sex, abuse, or harassment. If someone for narrative reasons wants to go in that direction, I expect the player/GM to reach out to me about it first out of character before posting it in game.

I have also left a small handful of times because of burnout or a character was not feeling right for a game. In those cases I always discussed the issue with the GM well ahead of time to avoid ugly surprises.

Kit'Arr
Catfolk gunslinger (mysterious stranger) 4 (Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 3 47, Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Combat 9, 51)
NG Medium humanoid (catfolk)
Init +8; Senses low-light vision; Perception +10
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Defense
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AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 15 (+5 armor, +4 Dex)
hp 36 (4d10+8)
Fort +6, Ref +9, Will +4
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft., climb 20 ft.
Melee rapier +4 (1d6/18-20)
Ranged +1 pistol +9 (1d8+1/×4)
Special Attacks deeds (deadeye, focused aim, gunslinger initiative, gunslinger's dodge, pistol-whip, utility shot), grit (3)
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Statistics
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Str 10, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 16
Base Atk +4; CMB +8; CMD 18
Feats Agile Maneuvers, Combat Expertise, Deadly Aim, Gunsmithing[UC], Power Attack, Precise Shot, Rapid Reload, Rapid Shot
Traits larger than life, seeker, totem spirit - shriikirri-quah (hawk clan)
Skills Acrobatics +11, Climb +12, Craft (alchemy) +8, Craft (firearms) +8, Intimidate +10 (While wielding a firearm, considered one size category larger than your actual size), Knowledge (local) +8, Lore (Firearms) +5, Perception +10, Ride +6, Stealth +6, Survival +6, Swim +4; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception, +2 Stealth, +2 Survival
Languages Catfolk, Common, Goblin
SQ cat's luck, finesse weapon attack attribute, gunsmith
Other Gear +1 mithral chain shirt, +1 pistol[UC], rapier, cape of free will +1/+2[MA], belt pouch, flint and steel, gunsmith's kit[UC], hemp rope (50 ft.), masterwork backpack[APG], powder horn[UC], 10 gp, 7 sp
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Special Abilities
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Agile Maneuvers Use DEX instead of STR for CMB
Cat's Luck (1/day) (Ex) Can roll 2d20 for a Reflex save and take better result.
Climb (20 feet) You have a Climb speed.
Combat Expertise +/-2 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack.
Deadly Aim -2/+4 Trade a penalty to ranged attacks for a bonus to ranged damage.
Deeds Use Grit to perform special abilities with your firearms.
Finesse Weapon Attack Attribute Finesse weapons use on attack rolls.
Grit (Ex) Gain a pool of points that are spent to fuel deeds, regained on firearm crit/killing blow.
Gunsmith Gain free starting firearm that only you can use properly.
Gunsmithing You can use a gunsmithing kit to craft/repair firearms and ammo.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail.
Power Attack -2/+4 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Precise Shot You don't get -4 to hit when shooting or throwing into melee.
Rapid Reload (Pistol) You can reload fast with one type of Crossbow or Firearm.
Rapid Shot You get an extra attack with ranged weapons. Each attack is at -2.

Tanja Bloodstained
CG Half Orc Hunter
Senses Perception +9 Darkvision 60ft
Initiative +2

HP 4d8+4+4 (29)
AC 21 (+1 Dex, +10 Armor, +1 Deflection) FF 20 Touch 12
Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +6

Speed 20ft
Reach 5ft

Mwk Greatsword - assuming Power Attack, Animal Focus (Bull) +8 (2d6+10) 19-20 and Bite +2 (1d4+3)

Spells Known
0th (DC12) - Guidance, Create Water, Mending, Detect Magic, Read Magic, Purify Food and Drink
1st (DC 13) 4/day - Cure Light Wounds, Resist Energy, Residual Tracking, Lead Blades
2nd (DC 14) 2/day - Carry Companion, Stone Call

STR 18 (15+2+1) / DEX 12 / CON 12 / INT 13 / WIS 14 / CHA 11
BaB +3 CMB +7 CMD 18
Feats: Heavy Armor Proficiency, Craft Wondrous Item, Outflank (Hunter Bonus), Pack Flanking (Hunter Bonus)
Traits: Fate’s Favored, Tusked, Survivor
Drawback: Stigmatized
Race Traits: Darkvision 60ft, Sacred Tattoo, Shamanic Enhancement, Orc Blood
Items

Equipment
Ring of Deflection +1: 2000 GP
+1 Full Plate: 1550 GP (partially crafted)
Cloak of Resistance +1: 1000 GP
Mithral Barding Chain Shirt: 734 GP (crafted)
MWK Greatsword: 350 GP
366 GP worth of mundane gear I’ll pick if I’m chosen

Crafted Armor
Mithral Barding Chain Shirt
Craft DC: 20 (standard for mwk items)
Initial Price: (100 (chain shirt) + 1000 (mithral)) * 2 (barding) = 2200
Craft Price: 734
Money Saved: 1466

Masterwork Full Plate
Craft DC: 20 (standard for mwk items)
Initial Price: 1500 (full plate) + 150 (masterwork)
Craft price: 550
Money Saved: 1100

Skills 28 ranks total
Survival, 4 ranks, +3 class, +2 Wis (+9) {+2 tracking}
Perception, 4 ranks, +3 class, +2 Wis (+9)
Spellcraft, 2 ranks, +3 class, +1 Int, +2 racial (+8)
Handle Animal 3 ranks, +3 class, (+6) {+4 Companion}
Bluff, 3 ranks, (+3)
Intimidate, 2 ranks, +3 class, (+5)
Sense Motive, 2 ranks, +1 trait, +3 class, +2 Wis (+9)
Ride, 2 ranks, +3 class, +1 Dex, (+6) ACP -5
Knowledge (Nature), 1 rank, +3 class, +1 Int (+5)
Knowledge (Dungeoneering), 1 rank, +3 class, +1 Int, (+5)
Stealth, 1 rank, +3 class, +1 Dex, (+5) ACP -5
Climb, 1 rank, +3 class, +4 Str, (+8) ACP -5
Swim, 1 rank, +3 class, +4 Str, (+8) ACP -5
Heal, 1 rank, +3 class, +2 Wis, (+6)

Background Skills 8 ranks total
Craft (Armor) 4 ranks, +3 Class, +1 Int, +2 MWK tools, (+10)
Artistry (Tattoos) 1 rank, +3 class, +1 Int (+5)
Craft (Leather), 1 rank, +3 class, +1 Int, (+5)
Craft (Clothing), 2 ranks, +3 class, +1 Int, (+6)

Zaga
Animal companion
Cat (Big)
Senses Low Light Vision, Scent, Perception +6
HP 4d8+4 (22)
AC 21 (+3 Natural, +4 Dex, +4 Armor) FF 17 Touch 14
Fort +5 Ref +8 Will +5
Evasion, Link, Improved Empathic Link, Share Spells

Speed 40ft
Reach 5ft

Assuming Animal Focus (Bull), Power Attack
Bite +7 (1d6+7), 2 Claws +7 (1d4+7)

Rake 1d4

Str 16 (13+2+1) {+4 almost always} Dex 18 Con 13 Int 3 Wis 15 Cha 10
BaB +3 CMB +8 CMD 22
Feats: Iron Will, Favored Animal Focus (Bull), Outflank (Hunter Bonus), Pack Flanking (Hunter Bonus)
Skills 4 ranks total
Perception, 1 rank, +3 class, +2 Wis (+6)
Stealth, 1 ranks, +3 class, +4 Dex (+8)
Acrobatics, 1 rank, +3 class, +4 Dex (+8)
Survival, 1 rank, +2 Wis (+3)

Tricks 8 known
Watch
Menace
Intimidate
Heel
Flank
Down
Attack x2

I think crafting is cool and flavorful. Especially for this character, who I want to make various items for her animal companion. I don’t plan to take other crafting feats, and I’m generally going to avoid going too high above WBL guidelines. For example, as submitted, Tanja has not used the Craft Wondrous Items feat at all, because doing so would put her too far above the wealth guideline for my liking.
Regarding power level, I feel like it would definitely be possible to reduce her power level and still have a strong, viable character. The way her backstory is written, I feel like Tanja should have some serious prowess. But if I’m selected, I’ll probably revisit her statistics, compare them to existing characters, and consider whether toning things down might make for a more fun play experience

Tanja blinked at the blue paint of Desna’s shrine, which shone bright beneath the moon. ”Bright enough to make me blue!” She twirled a little, raising her hands and examining them closely as they passed in and out of shadow. Yenna lifted her high and then spun, faster and faster, until she fell to the ground, laughing. Tanja rested her head on her mother’s chest, listening to her heart. ”You make a good pillow, mommy.”
”For you, my sweet, I am softer than the finest feather beds in Kaer Maga.” Tanja closed her eyes and burrowed into her mother a little. The Cinderlands were hot when the sun rode high, but tonight the moon was queen of a clear and cold sky. Here and there a few clouds, writhen by the wind, shone with a pale white radiance
Tanja felt safe enough to ask about the thing she feared most in the world. ”Will you keep me safe from him?”
”From who, my beautiful butterfly?”
”From daddy”

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”Come inside my child, and help me with the hides.” Yenna’s voice had that tone to it, and even though Tanja was playing frogs and ladies, she knew not to argue. Rupert could wait to be transformed back into a prince. Just as she had with Cinder Wolves and Bush Tigers, Yenna had shown Tanja how to stalk goats, how to choose the right ground and wait for the best shot. Tanja had been quiet the whole time, and she had gotten the tongue when they were done. She licked her lips, remembering the way the warm blood filled her mouth with rich flavor. Yenna showed her how to gut the goat, then, how to dress and skin it. Now, she showed Tanja how to stretch a hide, how to scrape and tan it. Hides were the most important part of any creature, she said, even if you were lean and hungry. Hides meant money, and money meant people listening to you. When the hide was scraped and the profits calculated, she asked her daughter, ”any questions?”
”What’s a frog?”
”It’s an animal...like a goat.”
”Are there any frogs here?”
”No, my child. It’s too dry and sandy here. Frogs live in water. They take a long time to grow big and strong, before they walk on the ground.”
”Are there any princes here?”
Yenna sighed and wiped sweat from her brow. Her hands were still stained red with blood. A little blood had dried on one cheek, but she didn’t seem to notice.
”Why do we live here mommy, if there are no frogs AND no princes?”
”Because there are goats,” Yenna said finally. Weakly. She sat down, tired. ”And because other people are too scared of the wyverns to live here, so we can have the goats all to ourselves.”
”I like people. I liked Vaana. She taught me about lots of things. Embroidery. Why don’t you teach me about embroidery, instead of smelly goats?”
”My star and moon, there are things you must understand.” Yenna took her child’s hands in her own. Dull green against bright red. ”When people look at us, they’re afraid. Afraid that someone big will come to hurt them.”
”Who? Who are they afraid of?”
”The same one we both are.” Yenna could see that Tanja understood. She picked up the child and held her close. ”But while I am with you, you don’t need to be afraid of anything. Now come with me, you’ll have the best needlework of anyone I know, from here to the Stolen Bay.”

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The sun rose grim and red over a burned and broken world. A cloud of ash and dust rose with it, growing steadily from the east. There was a sound now too, growing closer. A steady tramp of doom, the kind that could make the sky tremble. Nightmares came under the dust, with dark steel and darker hearts. One of them picked Tanja up by the ankle and shook her. ”Little half breed girl. Camp so neat, you keep it clean by yourself?” His voice was rough as raw iron beaten into cruel shapes. Somewhere else, one of the monsters was going through Yenna’s things, tossing them one by one into the fire. Nothing caught his eye. ”Where’s your mum, little one?”

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Tanja pulled slow and steady against her bonds, never when the nightmares looked at her. When she thought it was safe, she chewed at the thick cords that held her wrists together. Her feet, lashed to a giantbone pulled by an aurochs, were too high above her to reach. She was being dragged alongside other plunder. ”Little half worm will make a good prize for Grishnakh.” Mommy’s tattoos were of the radiant moon, whose rare beauty could be glimpsed now and then when she washed herself beside dancing firelight. The monster that spoke had tattoos of death and blood, screaming faces and splattered guts.
Someone else, with braided hair and spiked armor, spoke to him. ”Long way back to Urglin. Long time ta feed a hungry mouth. I know a few hungry mouths wouldn’t mind feedin tonight. Get the taste of ash outta them. We could stew her good, or roast her slow.”

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Tanja lay in silence, counting the monsters. She lost track after fifteen, though there were many more than that. They had stopped marching for now, and some were dozing. One came to sit beside her. He was smaller than the rest, his features closer to human. ”It troubles me, that we never found your mum. But don’t worry, little one, we’ve still got the return journey. There may yet be time for a family reunion.” He tousled Tanja’s hair gently. ”Though my experience with human parents, they’ll abandon you to the waste when things get tough.” He shrugged, then coughed and keeled over. He was making a sputtering noise. Tanja saw an arrow in his throat, his eyes open wide and white and wheeling in every direction. She reached for a knife at his belt. He tried to stop her, tried to claw at the girl’s face, but his limbs were weak as straw.

The camp was quiet.

Slowly, Tanja crawled away, towards where she thought the arrow had come from. And then she was scooped up by Yenna’s strong arms and pulled close.
”I love you, my sun and stars. You are safe now. I love you. You are safe.”

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”I tell ya, we should cut her feet in half. That way if she runs again, won’t be so hard to catch her.”
”Nah. Grishnakh will like her spirit, and he’ll like her even better if her feet work.” The one with the tattoos spoke again. His voice was shattered stones tumbling down a mountainside.
”Little bit of maiming might make her strong like me. Could be fun, Brega.”
”You had enough fun with her mother to last you a while.” Brega’s voice was hope, ruined and jagged as broken glass.

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Brega and most of the others had crossed the Storval Rise and gone further south. The few who remained made camp atop the plateau. Tanja was in manacles now, resized for a child. Brega had been worried that tight bonds would ruin her hands and feet. He seemed much more concerned about that than the others, who were mainly concerned with horse lords. ”Long as we stay close to the mountains, they’ll never find us. Auroch herds will head East soon, just in time for us to head back North. We can venture a little farther from the mountains on the way back, only have the ankhravs to worry ‘bout.” It was Kruga who spoke, the same one who had killed Yenna. She ran her fingers around her braids often, petting them the way a charmer pets a snake. Kruga still had some of Yenna’s blood stained into her hair. Tanja kept her eyes away from that blood, watching flecks of ash float on the wind into the green wooded land below.

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Grishnakh was a disappointing prince. Half a human, and with half a heart, he warned Tanja. ”Keep on the good side of it, and you’ll be like me one day.” He gazed up at Urglin’s War Tower. Tanja would never be anything like this monster. ”You’re special, just like me.”

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Tanja was kept near Grishnakh most of the time. Often caged, sometimes bound, but never beaten. Not yet. ”You’ll go to the shamans when you’re strong enough, my child.” He often called her his child, his girl. ”I should say that when you go to the shamans, we’ll find out if you are strong enough.” Tanja watched him meet with the orc captains, Brega of the Southern Raiders, Grika One-Eye, Kroog the Demonspawn, and more.
One year, Brega and a ragged band of survivors came limping into the city. Brega carried a lump of white fur. ”Found this in the Ashwood,” he said to Grishnakh, dropping it on the floor at his feet. It hissed, but didn’t try to run. ”Stupid cub,” Brega snarled, ”bite me again and I’ll break another leg.”
Grishnakh put it in a cage with Tanja. It was a lion, with ghostly white fur and ruby eyes. He gave it all the food, so that Tanja had to steal from it to survive. Grishnakh liked watching the girl wrestle the little cat, liked the way it clawed and scarred her. Gave her honor, he said. Tanja didn’t let him see the way she lay next to the cub at night, to keep him warm. The way she healed his hurts with a soft and subtle magic. She would never let him see her be tender.

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The lion went to the arena, and Tanja was given to the shamans. ”Little girl, unspoiled. Good omen, yes!” Cried an old crone. Tanja was beaten and battered, broken and then moulded slowly into something both stronger and weaker than before. What they did to her never matched the way she suffered each time she dreamed, listening to her mother’s death again and again. When she was alone, Tanja found needles and blue ink. She made drawings on her thighs, butterflies and moons, where the shamans wouldn’t see. When they scarred her, they never found that supple skin, marked in the style of her mother’s people

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”The lion comes with me,” Tanja said firmly, her thick arms crossed. She never argued with Grishnakh.
Grishnakh gazed at her steadily, plotting. He needed his tribute caravan to reach Belkzen unspoiled. He couldn’t leave Urglin.
The lion went with Tanja. She named him Zaga.

When Tanja returned, dusty and bloodstained and victorious, Zaga went back to the arena. People placed bets on which creatures would win. It had been three years since Zaga arrived at Urglin, and he was hardly still a juvenile. Yet he was small, prevented from growing to his full size by some tainted magic. People bet against him often.

”Out in the wild,” Grishnakh explained to a Shoanti traveler who he needed to placate, ”most lions die young. Killed by males who take over the pride, so that their mothers will breed again and bear their sons. In this enlightened establishment, we only make them fight other cubs or juveniles, creatures their own size. The strong survive this, though sometimes the process leaves them...stunted.” Grishnakh grinned at Tanja. ”Not many live as long as this one. Say, girl, do you know if any of the handlers have given it a name? It’s a sad thing, but as predictable as an emberstorm. When the handlers give the animals names, they lose them right after.” Tanja’s face was stone, worn smooth and hard by countless storms. She saw the tattoos on the traveler’s arms, star and bat. She might have called him a traitor, in another life. ”Help my Collectors pass to the Storval Rise, and it’s yours, along with the other items discussed. I hear they gamble among your people, too. You could take a cut from it’s wagers, and be a rich man by next year.”
Zaga went with the Shoanti traveler

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Tanja had what she needed to leave. The stablemaster listened to her now; when she asked him to prepare two horses, he didn’t go to Grishnakh first. When she laid them heavy with food and water, he didn’t question her. She rode out of Urgulin ahead of a storm, lightning leaping over head, grim fury like a mantle wreathed around her.

She wasn’t going straight to Kaer Maga. First, she was going to find Brega and kill Kruga.

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The Shoanti drew close. Tanja didn’t try to outrun them, instead she reigned in and waited. ”I am Tanja, daughter of Yenna Owl-Eyes, of the Lyrune-Quah. I have travelled far in search of a band of orcs, who slew my mother and may kill more of your people.” She rested her sword across one shoulder, skirling eddies of ash blowing through her streaming hair.
”If you give up your weapon and come with us to see Drake-Shooter, our leader, we will let you live.” The woman who spoke was tall, her horse a quick bay with a braided mane.

Tanja knelt inside the tent of Drake-Shooter later that day. She still wore her armor, but carried no weapons now. Her horses were mingled with the herd already. ”I can’t let a wayward half-orc, bearing arms made in the forges of Urglin, roam free on the land. You must come with us north to the meeting with the Shundar-Quah, but in time, we will find our way again to Kaer Maga. When we are there, you may go free.”
”Am I not of a kin to your people?”
”You are not.”
”You will give me command of some of your warriors, and I will lead them to the West. They will see that my story is true. There is a band of raiders, not two days' ride from here. We must find them, before the trail goes cold, and they bring more destruction to your people. I will prove my worth in battle by killing those orcs, for my mother and all those who died before her. Your people will witness my prowess and say my name.”
Drake-Shooter’s eye twitched once. ”There are none of my people in the West. The only folk that dwell there, amid gargoyles and graves, are shamed. Alone. Outcast.” He looked at the child before him, barely grown. ”I will send a rider with your tidings to our leader.” Then he said her birth name, once. ”Tanja.”

Tanja’s horses belonged to the tribe now, but her weapons and armor were kept in a store in Drake Shooter’s tent. They would be returned when she was freed. The camp was small, only a part of the Lyrune-Quah. Lots of elderly and young, not many warriors. They moved slowly. Folk were afraid when they passed by Tanja, shunning her as though she were diseased. She felt now bitterly the tooth of her mother’s words, uttered so long ago. Why did you keep me here?

Two men, both large, stole her food. At first, she let them, but she could not go hungry for long. She fought them, hard fists flying, Tanja losing until she bit off an ear. ”Not as good as a tongue,” she spat, while onlookers backed away in horror. Tanja knelt again before Drake-Shooter, hands bound now, blood splattered down the front of her shirt.
”I thought it would be safe for you to walk disarmed among our people. I see now that you cannot be disarmed, therefore you must be bound with the other prisoner, and sleep in a cage.”

-----------------

Tanja handed a filthy scrap of cloth to the other prisoner. He looked at her doubtfully. ”I know the rags I’m wearing are not the height of contemporary fashion, but I don’t think that’s going to help much.”
”It’s for your mouth.”
”Hmm. Might be helpful for that, actually.”

Jasper was Taldan, from a far away town on the Lost Coast. He had told her of that place, of craggy beaches and deep, rolling fog. Of woodland halls green and cool in summer, little pools and rivulets of cold clear water running out to the sea.
”Are there frogs there, in the pools?” Tanja had asked.
”Beneath verdant leaves and strands of gossamer at the water's edge, or perched on fragrant lilies just beginning to bloom.”

”You’ll want to keep your mouth closed, hard as that might be for you, when the black blizzard comes. ” Their hands were bound well enough to stop spellcasting. Anything that required dexterity was a challenge, so she had to help him fix the cloth in front of his face.
”Might keep my honeyed tongue from drying out.”
”Stay in this broken land long enough, Jasper, and it will regardless.” Peals of thunder rolled around them, reverberating on volcanic rocks that lay black and stark against the dun hills.
”If you think so.”
Tanja studied him carefully. ”Why did they take you prisoner?”
”Murder.”

-----------------

”Who would you prefer to kill you, the Sklar-Quah, or these hill giants?” Tanja watched the growing cloud of dust, felt the earth beneath her shudder. She began to gnaw at her bonds.
”I can’t say I’ve considered it until now.” Jasper’s voice was even, though he was obviously afraid. ”Though I’ve heard that for murder, the Sklar will string a man up and leave him to fry in the sun. Can take days. Longer, if they give him tastes of the water he begs for.”
”Guess you must be relieved to see the giants, then. When you’re looking up at the soles of their feet, you’ll probably be afraid. The feeling will pass quickly.” The camp was in turmoil. A few had already deserted, and the horses that remained were loose. Here and there, people tried to corral them. Most were preparing to make a stand at the far end of camp.
”What do you suppose the giants want? I was hoping to talk my way out of an unhappy ending with the Sklar. Maybe I can do the same with them.”
”The same thing as the orcs.” Tanja’s hands were free. She moved to the cage, chewing at the bars.
”I suppose you’re intimately familiar with that. Tell me. And please, start from the beginning, I’m in no rush.”
Tanja spat out chunks of wood that tasted like grit and ash. ”They want you to love something.”
”Then they’ll think I’m a gift fit for a king. Why in the seven hells would they want that?”
Tanja stepped out of her cage. She looked at Jasper, still stuck in his, and her eyes blazed with a malevolent light. ”So they can kill it cruelly, and watch how it ruins you.”
A passing horse slowed, saddled. Tanja lept onto it and rode off, not looking back

--------------

Tanja rode uphill, fast as she could, until she got a view of the camp. The giants were closing, the pounding of their drums could be heard faintly. A fire was spreading among the tents. Through flecks of ash that spun in the swirling wind, Tanja could see that some of the Lyrune had mounted and were sweeping the area around the camp. ”Must be rounding up the deserters. Disciplined. I need to be the same. Find my things, hope to slip away when battle is joined. Then I can pick up Brega’s trail.” The horse liked the calm, measured sounds of her voice, the way she scratched it’s withers. It was calm now, hers to command.

Tanja tore down the hill at a gallop, moving for Drake-Shooter’s tent. The drums were closer now, rolling booms that could rattle teeth. Inside the tent, Tanja’s greatsword hung in its scabbard. She slung it over one shoulder, opening a chest. Nothing but gold. She grabbed a pouch. Another chest, some frilly clothes dyed bright purple. Bright blue birds embroidered on it, with a matching spell component pouch and a rapier. She left it open, moved to the next chest. Found her armor. Strapped on the breastplate, hands fumbling with the ties. Dropped the helmet on her head, put the rest of the armor in her pack. Her horse was outside, right where she left it. Hideous, inhuman laughter came from the far end of camp, mingled with the screams of the dying. She stood still, listening to the cries. So familiar, no different from the ones she heard in her dreams.

Tanja went back inside the tent, picked up the rapier and the spell component pouch. Rode back to where Jasper was, still stuck in his cage. He hadn’t even managed to get his hands free yet. She dropped the pouch at his feet, cut his bonds, and hacked the cage open with a sweep of her sword.
”Guess they haven’t ruined you, then,” he said, as though their conversation was unbroken.
”Not completely.”
”How in Torag’s name do you expect me to fight with just what you’ve brought me? I need my corset at least.”
”Not time to fight, it’s time to run. Can you ride?” Tanja swung up into the saddle, helping him up behind her.
”I know an exceptional poem about a rider. Several.”
”Then hold on tight.”

---------------

Tanja sat in front of Desna’s shrine. It’s chipped, peeling paint was dull blue like shattered dreams.
”I had a glass I looked at like that. You left it for the giants, along with my doublet.”
”A glass?”
”My town was famous for glass that could mesh the light of moon and sun, could catch dragon’s fire between twisted wires of silver and gold. Only thing I had left from the halcyon days of my youth.”
”Stupid to make things out of glass. Pieces of it will chip and shatter over the years, and then you’ll be left with nothing but dust and broken, jagged edges.” Tanja picked up a handful of sand, letting it sift between her fingers.
”All the more impressive, then, that my glass was still in pristine condition. Shiny and clear as though it were still brand new.”
”Help me kill the orcs I’m looking for, Jasper, and I’ll buy you a new one.”

-----------------

”You’re a better armorer than seamstress,” Jasper said, flexing his shoulders inside his new chain shirt.
”For now.”
”Really, it moves with my body like a fish's scales. A lot better than the doublet.”
”You’re going to need that armor soon, when you prove yourself. A person is always either a warrior, or a coward. I can’t wait to find out which one you are.”
They were moving south on foot, getting close to the Storval Rise. Jasper had sold the horse and used most of the rest of their gold to buy supplies. It was far easier for her to travel among the Shoanti, Tanja realized, when she was with a human. She was less than an outlander to these people, a stain on the land no more pleasant to witness than the approach of an emberstorm. And Jasper...had a way with words.
Tanja had originally planned to tell Brega she had orders from Urglin, that he needed to return to the city at once, and that she commanded his raiders now. If he went back to Urglin, she would have followed his trail a day or two later. If he questioned her authority, she would have fought him right then. None of the other orcs would wonder why a change in captain came with the old captain’s death. That plan wouldn’t work anymore. It had been too long since the orcs left Urglin, and she had Jasper with her now. She would need to stalk her prey.

-----------------

”That’s my lion,” Tanja said suddenly, stopping.
”That’s an empty, blasted wasteland,” Jasper said, surveying the Cinderlands. ”Actually, it’s not empty. It’s positively teeming with life, all of which wants to kill us.”
”Zaga and I have a link. He must be close, no more than a mile. Our senses are connected, twin hunters born under the stars, bonded since youth. He gave me these,” Tanja showed him the scars.
”Always wondered why you’re missing half an ear. Explains why you love him.”
”It’s dangerous to love.”
”And yet, here you stand beside me. Plain to see that there’s half a heart in there, at least.”
Tanja didn’t answer. Her eyes had rolled up into her skull. Her head twisted one way and then another, and then she gasped as she came back to herself.
”Time to free Zaga.”

----------------

”Should we...help them?” Jasper and Tanja watched as battle was joined.
”The last time I tried to help the Lyrune-Quah kill Brega and his band of raiders, they put me in a cage next to a scoundrel and a murderer.”
”He sounds dashing.”
”We should get close.” Zaga’s tail was lashing back and forth. ”Whichever side wins, Brega is mine.”

----------------

Tanja stood over Brega’s corpse and sobbed. Below her, the ground heaved and buckled. Above her, racing clouds were torn and rent. Far off, thunder was rumbling. The sounds of battle, close now, twisted in the whistling wind. The cries of the dying were more and more like the ones in Tanja’s dreams. She sank to her knees, gasping, clutching at her throat, screaming and desperate for air.
”I’m sorry, Tanja, I thought you knew.” Jasper was breathing hard, red blood dripping down his face.
”Thought I knew what?” She cried, her voice broken by doleful anguish.
”Killing him would never bring her back.”
”Good point,” Tanja rose, her grief buried beneath a cold, empty fury. There was no life in her eyes. She was all coiled steel and jagged edges, the twisted and merciless warrior she was made to be. ”I better kill Kruga too.”
”Eyes that have seen fire and sword have seen, and horror in the halls of stone, may yet look again on meadows green, and trees and hills they long have known.” Jasper put a hand on Tanja’s shoulder to steady himself. ”Let’s find the road that leads home.”

----------------

When the Lyrune-Quah who survived told stories of that day, they spoke of a bold, handsome outlander who fought with nothing but a slender sword. His powerful voice and clear words had turned the tide of battle, and made him a target for the orcs. When at last he was stricken with mortal wounds, the orcs had dragged his corpse behind the battle line and hacked hatefully at him with cruel swords, so that the ground was mired by his blood. But by then too many of their number had fallen. Soon they broke and fled, a captain with spiked armor and bloody hair leading a few survivors out of bowshot and into the hills. For his heroism, the outlander was given the Shoanti name Steel-Voice, and buried in a high place in the heartlands.
A tall and bloody half orc with a white tiger had walked beside Steel-Voice. Some whisper fearfully of her deeds in the weeks that followed. How she hunted the surviving orcs, each in their turn. Of what fell things she did when she found them, to satisfy her bloodlust, folk tell many tales. They say also that those who met her in that time thought they had witnessed an evil spirit, whose baleful gaze could not be met by mortal eyes. But all agree that before she rose in wrath, the half orc stopped and sat beside Steel-Voice, gazing into his dead and empty eyes. She spoke no words, and would not leave his side until the sun had set and risen again.

Tanja is shockingly young, once you look past her haunted eyes. Sixteen, perhaps, though half orcs grow quickly. She’s taller than most men, and much stronger. Her mother was a beautiful woman, and Tanja might have been, too. She has many, many scars: thin scratchy ones that cross each other on her arms and neck. Wider ones, more cruel, running down one cheekbone and across the fronts of her shoulders. A few war marks on her torso, deep wounds that were intended to kill, not just hurt. She’s missing a chunk of ear and half a pinkie. For all that, she still has a striking appearance, the way a Wyvern is striking when seen far off amid glittering mountain peaks. Most of the time, people notice her armor. Made of dark metal stained in an orcish forge, and covering her from head to foot. When he walks beside her, people comment on her lion, his unnatural paleness or the red of his eyes.

Marha Suntouch
Female human (Shoanti) wizard (runesage) 4 (Pathfinder RPG Adventurer's Guide 58)
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +9; Senses Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+3 Dex)
hp 22 (4d6+4)
Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee dagger +1 (1d4-1/19-20) or
. . quarterstaff +1 (1d6-1)
Ranged +1 light crossbow +4 (1d8+1/19-20)
Special Attacks hand of the apprentice (7/day)
Wizard (Runesage) Spells Prepared (CL 4th; concentration +8)
. . 2nd—acid arrow, invisibility, knock
. . 1st—burning disarm (DC 15), burning hands (DC 15), comprehend languages, ear-piercing scream[UM] (DC 15)
. . 0 (at will)—detect magic, mage hand, prestidigitation, ray of frost
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Statistics
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Str 8, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 19, Wis 10, Cha 12
Base Atk +2; CMB +5; CMD 14
Feats Agile Maneuvers, Combat Expertise, Deadly Aim, Improved Initiative, Power Attack, Precise Shot, Scribe Scroll, Spell Penetration
Traits pragmatic activator, reactionary, scholar of the ancients
Skills Acrobatics +4, Appraise +8, Climb +0, Diplomacy +2, Disable Device +4, Fly +7, Knowledge (arcana) +10, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +9, Knowledge (engineering) +9, Knowledge (geography) +9, Knowledge (history) +9, Knowledge (local) +9, Knowledge (nature) +9, Knowledge (nobility) +9, Knowledge (planes) +9, Knowledge (religion) +9, Linguistics +9, Perception +4, Ride +4, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +5, Use Magic Device +5
Languages Common, Draconic, Elven, Ignan, Polyglot, Shoanti, Thassilonian, Undercommon, Varisian
SQ arcane bond (object), finesse weapon attack attribute, fire in the blood[ARG], mostly human, runic focus, self-doubting
Combat Gear wand of enlarge person; Other Gear light crossbow, dagger, quarterstaff, backpack, flint and steel, ink, inkpen, soap, spell component pouch, thieves' tools, waterskin, wizard starting spellbook, 336 gp, 7 sp
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Special Abilities
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Agile Maneuvers Use DEX instead of STR for CMB
Arcane Bond Use object to cast any spell in your spellbook. Without it, Concentration required to cast spells (DC20 + spell level).
Combat Expertise +/-1 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack.
Deadly Aim -1/+2 Trade a penalty to ranged attacks for a bonus to ranged damage.
Finesse Weapon Attack Attribute Finesse weapons use on attack rolls.
Fire in the Blood Gain fast healing 2 for one round whenever you take fire damage.
Hand of the Apprentice (7/day) (Su) As a standard action, throw melee weapon (use Int instead of Dex) and instantly returns.
Mostly Human Appear mostly human, count as humanoid (human) for all purposes, as well as outsider (native).
Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Precise Shot You don't get -4 to hit when shooting or throwing into melee.
Runic Focus (Su) Create stone that provides specialization in Thassilonian school of magic.
Self-Doubting (????) -2 penalty to particular Will saves & skill checks after failing it that day.
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A young Mwangi woman, she came to Sandpoint to study magic based on ancient runes that were scattered around her home village back in the jungle.

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