About Alekto.Background:
The alleyway was deserted. Crates and ragged tarps littered the ground. No one paid attention, though. With the Fourth Crusade dragging on, such scenes were not so strange in Kenabres. The people walking the streets, then, never noticed that this alley was different. Against one wall, behind a broken crate was a small child, no more than four or five at the most. Her soft sobs unheard by the people on the streets. Or so she thought. "What's wrong, why are you crying," asked a man in blue, purple and silver robes, a silver and amethyst symbol, that of a butterfly hanging from his neck. His unshaven face covered in the coarse hair of a two-day beard. The young girl, startled at the voice looked up, terror blazing in her deep, ruby red eyes. She nearly tried to run, but something made her stay. "D-dey said I was ah monstah," she replied in a wet, sob choked voice, "dey said I w-would b-be bettah dead!" Her wail signaling another round of tears. The man sat next to the girl, taking her in his arms and letting her cry on his shoulder, her tears staining the fine fabric. Together they sat like that, for a long time. "Are you done," he asked gently when the girl had cried herself out of tears. Her voice too hoarse to say anything, she merely nodded. "That's good, sometimes we need to cry, but it's not good when others hurt us," he told her, "they called you a monster, but I don't see any monsters." "You don't," she asked, her voice cracking a little. "No, I don't," he confirmed, before smiling like a young boy about to get away with something, "except for a tickle-monster! Rawr!" Tickling fingers made the girl squeal with laughter as the man let her get a step away before snatching her up and tickling her again. The memories of being called a monster and crying all but forgotten as tears of laughter replaced the ones of sorry. === "Please! Let me see him! He's my papa," a girl of seven begged the guard. "I may not o' known Priest Talmus that well, but I know he didn't have no daughters, specially no demon-cursed daughters," the gruff man said, his brown eyes seething with contempt as wide, ruby-red eyes looked, tears welling in their corners. "B-but he's all I've got! He's the only one that cared about me! Please, lemme see him," she begged, on her knees, though a vanishingly small part of her was revolted at her acquiescence. "I said beat it, hell-spawn!" A gauntleted backhand sent the girl spinning to the ground. She cried out in pain as blood from the inside of her cheek flowed freely into her mouth. "Pwah-ese, mis'ah," she sobbed through swelling lips, "Ah'm Ale'to! Tell him Ah'm 'ere!" "I said beat it!" An iron-shod boot knocked the breath from Alekto's lungs as the rain began to fall. === The young girl sobbed as the procession gathered around the mausoleum. A blue urn with a silver butterfly on it's face was gently placed inside the marble structure. Father Talmus, Alekto's papa, the only family she'd ever known, even if he wasn't related by blood, was dead. He had been slain by a demon, and poor Alekto had been suspected of aiding in his murder for a short time until his true murderer had been discovered. The demon that had left Father Talmus mortally wounded was still out there, and no one knew when it would appear again. Look to the heavens and witness their beauty. Spread happiness and goodwill wherever you find your journey leading, and always seek the road less traveled, for there you will find those in the most need, he had said many times to her, teaching her how to be a good person, and prove everyone that had called her a monster wrong. She watched the ceremony continue from her rooftop perch, unable to get any closer. Her sobs, even as quiet as they were, drowning out the whispers on the wind. She'd tried to do good when she and Father Talmus weren't together, but no one would let her. They all pushed her away. How was she supposed to help people if she couldn't even get close to them? She waited, but no answer came. === The wet, rumbling growl from her midsection made one thing clear to Alekto, she needed to find something to eat and soon. Otherwise, her belly was likely to devour itself. The smell of baking bread and dozens of wood fires cooking meals and dishes filled the air, and only made the rumbling worse. She stopped in front of a bakery and looked hungrily on the baskets of loaves, rolls, and buns. The temptation to just steal one was almost overwhelming. Just one, it would never be missed, she thought. Just one and the hunger would be gone. No. If she was going to be good, she couldn't steal from people, even people who'd never miss what she took. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, steeling herself before she walked into the small shop. "Uh, ex-excuse me," Alekto asked quietly, her eyes not quite meeting those of the shopkeeper's, "If-- if you c-c-could spare some bread, m-may I have it? I'd b-be willing to work for it. I promise to do a good job, I'm just--" another growl from her stomach interrupts her and her cheeks flush with embarrassment as large, ruby-red eyes look away. This was it. She'd be chased out, the curse of "demon-spawn" chasing her back. "My, how can I say no when you're obviously hungry. I'm afraid bread alone isn't going to fill that belly, though," the shopkeeper, a woman in her late twenties answered with a smile as she held out a hand, "my name is Alfsigr. Can you tell me yours?" "A-alekto. I'm just Alekto." Alekto took Alfsigr's hand and followed the woman in silence for a moment. "Y-you don't hate me," she asked in surprise, not quite able to believe this wasn't a dream. "How can I hate a young girl like you," Alfsigr answered softly, "just because you look different from a human or an elf doesn't mean you're not a person. Now, let's just get you cleaned up and we'll eat, okay?" "O-okay." It had been a year since Alekto had seen anyone show her kindness, and feeling as if she was worth something for the first time in a long time brought tears into her eyes again. === Alekto darted down the alley, the same one she'd met Father Talmus in five years ago, but that thought was far from her mind as her feet, bound only in ragged, dirty wraps, slapped against the cobbles. "Get her! Get the demon-girl," the children behind her cried as she rounded another corner, trying to lose the gang on her heels, and growing more and more desperate as the chase wore on. Much to her surprise though, she found herself on the ground after running into a boy nearly a foot taller, three times as wide, and at least two years older than she was. Her surprise was complete when the children chasing her stopped. They looked at each other, then, nervously, at the much larger boy now looming in their path. "Don't you know this is Demonspit turf? Get outta here before Big Louis decides to show you what for," the boy yelled, and almost instantly, the other gang was gone. "Th-thanks," Alekto said as she picked herself up off the ground, "I thought they were going to get me, and, uh, sorry I ran into you," she finishes sheepishly as she looks away, a blush forming on her fair skin. "Well, I guess I'm in a forgivin' mood," the boy said with a big grin, "name's Big Louis, but you can call me Boss, if you want to be in my gang." Alekto looked down at the ground, not quite able to believe someone, anyone, would want her. "O-okay, Boss." === "Look, Louis. I want out! I've had enough of this," Alekto told the overweight slob sitting on a crate in what the gang had dubbed, ironically in her opinion, the Palace. The filthy hovel was littered with empty bottles that had contained alcohol at some point in the past, bedrolls infested with lice, and crates filled with battered and worn goods that the gang hadn't been able to fence. Around her sat the other half-dozen of the Demonspit gang. It'd been three years since she'd run into Louis Alberwood, and she'd regretted every day since then. She'd managed to persuade the gang out of trying to do a protection racket, a drug operation, and being assassins, but she hadn't managed to keep them from engaging in general thuggery. They'd managed to take a half-dozen wagons with some goods and some booze, and even that was too much in Alekto's opinion. "Out," Louis parroted in a slow, stupid voice, "You can't get out, you owe me! If I hadn'ta saved your pale ass three years ago, you'd be dead!" "And this is living," Alekto shot back, venom dripping form her voice, "no, we're even after I saved your bacon from getting fried by that mage you tried to rob. I want out. I'm getting out. I'm not debating it." "Fine, you want out, you can walk into the Worldwound fer all I care," Louis said, waving his had to the door, "though I had thought you liked that one baker. What was her name? Alfsigr? It'd be a shame if something happened," he said, an evil gleam in his eyes as he rubbed his jaw. Smug bastard. I had hoped he had forgotten about Alfsigr. Her family doesn't need Louis trying to make life harder on them, Alekto thought as she ground her teeth. She hadn't visited the bakery since shortly after joining Louis' gang and learning they were just a bunch of thuggish kids trying to make themselves feel big. "Fine," she grated out, "you've made your point." "Good, because we'll need your skills for what I have in mind." === How far had they walked? The landscape around them was barren, nothing but blood-red dust and grey rock for miles. The sky above was an angry yellow, the sun hotter, more oppressive and dimmer all at once. "You demon-born B$~%+!" A large meaty fist slammed into Alekto's gut, curling her over the arm of the man to whom the fist belonged. Louis gnashed his teeth as he began another round of beatings. It had been the same for the past two days, but even as furious as he was, he'd forbidden anyone from marring her face or breaking her bones, not that it made the pummeling any less painful, nor did it mask the sour taste in her mouth as bile threatened to come out. She wanted to curl up on the ground, but she couldn't. Two of Louis' cronies had her by the arms as their boss screamed again, punctuating each word with a brutal, bruising blow to her belly. "YOU! TRAITOROUS! DEMON! BORN! B!~%*!" She vomited, spewing bile all over the ground before her, and on Louis' arm. Disgusted, he grabbed the front of the thin, rough-spun tunic she wore and ripped it off of her to wipe the bile from his arm. beneath the now useless garment was a patchwork of fresh and not so fresh bruises. The past two days had been filled with walking and beatings. Nothing lethal or too damaging. That would have ruined the merchandise for his next scheme. Calmer now, or as calm as he got after half of the Demonspit gang had been arrested, he eyed Alekto from the waist up. All that was protecting her modesty now was the under garment she wore to keep her budding chest bound. Ironically, her underclothes were definitely the best clothes she had by a wide margin, given that she would normally have been mortified to know that anyone else had seen them. Alekto was too battered and shaken to be embarrassed, however, but not so much that she missed the look in Louis' eyes as he traced the developing curves of her hips and waist. "Not that it matters now," he said, panting from the exertion, "but when things calm down in Kenabres, we're going back, and you, my dear, sweet Alekto, are going to be workin' those goods you've got growin'. Maybe even be workin' 'em before we get back," he leered as his two remaining thugs laughed. All Alekto could do was hang her head. She'd tried to do good. She'd warned the guard and had tried to slip away when they had sprung their trap, but Louis and his two favorite henchmen had caught her and they had ran for the Worldwound. Now, they had very little water, no food, and Alekto doubted that the three idiots had even considered how stupidly dangerous it was out here. Kenabres was below the horizon now, and she doubted they'd ever see it again. To make matters worse, there was a chill in the air now. Soon, it would be night again, and she debated whether it would be better to try and keep warm by staying close to her captors, or to freeze to death. Freezing, she thought as she looked up at Louis once more, was starting to look appealing. === She spotted them before anyone else, not that it mattered. When the idiots continued right into an ambush, hauling Alekto along for the ride, anger, grief, and fear overcame fatigue and with a strength born of a demon’s rage, she broke free and began running. To bad the fiend-touched satyrs were faster than she was. The last two of Louis’ thugs were cut down as they turned to chase their now escaped captive. Louis, for his part, realized what was going on before they did, and was running away from the demonic goat-men as fast as he could waddle. ”What about him.” one of them asked. ”leave him, we have something more interesting to play with,” another answered with a leer as he jerked his horned head towards Alekto’s fleeing form. Too slow to outrun them, and too tired to fight, Alekto was brought down and surrounded by eight of those leering, twisted fey. They made no effort to hide their pleasure at having a new toy, even if she was on the young side. Alert could only whimper, her rage spent and her limbs barely able to hold her up, even with the satyrs to either side. ”Well, well, well,” said one of them, obviously the leader, ”look at the beauty we have here, boys!” ”A little too young fear me tastes, but I bet she’ll be right fine in two years!” ”I don’t care! I wanna hear her sing now!” On and on they went, getting more detailed with what her fate was to be when an iron arrow burst through one of their hearts. The other seven stood dumbfounded as their fellow slowly collapsed, dead before he even hit the ground. Another, then another took arrows to the head and chest. The survivors looks around in a panic before spotting a woman wielding a bow and taking aim. As one they snarled and let their rage consume them. They would tear this interloper apart and feast on her flesh. They’d crack her bones and sup on her marrow. They all died before getting within twenty paces. === Cold. Frightened. Tired. Alekto sat shivering on the ground, unable to stand, barely able to keep her head up. She had eaten nothing in two days, and it had been a day since she’d had anything other than her own spit to drink. She wasn’t sure what to expect now. Had the woman saved her, or did she only want poor Alekto for her own purposes. Either way, it would be over soon. She was coming, and Alekto was too tired to keep her from doing anything to her. The woman was beautiful, fair-skinned with raven hair and large, lipid eyes. They were sad, those eyes. How strange, Alekto thought. The woman pulled a water-skin from her pack and held it out. Her clothes were blue, that same shade of blue that she remembered from long ago. It was the symbol about the woman’s neck, however, that caused her breath to catch. ”It’s alright. You’re safe now,” She said, the silver butterfly with amethyst wings glittering in the twilight. She held out the water-skin, kneeling to be on the same level as Alekto. ”You’re safe now,” she repeated, just before Alekto embraced her, holding on as if letting go would mean the person in front of her would disappear. The tears came fast, and the young girl wept softly as relief flooded through her. === The woman carried Alekto, too sore and tired to even walk. The young girl was dressed in an outfit that seemed like it was meant for a royal after the rags she had worn for so long. It was alright if it was too big, for her small frame anyway. They were warm against the chill winds now blowing across the Worldwound, and hadn’t been ripped to shreds like her last outfit had been. ”Well, what do we have here,” A black and red robed man sneered as he approached the pair, ”my you two look good enough to eat!” ”Bite your tongue,” the woman commanded, ”Do you know who I am, or what I am about? I assume you don’t because only a fool would stop me,” she asked him, her tone one of barely restrained fury. ”I— I am sorry ma’am,” the man answered, unsure of himself now, ”but I haven’t a clue who you are?” ”I am on a mission given to me by Deskari’s lieutenants. I am going to sow discord and chaos, using this child as a seed.” The man looked about, confused. More of black-robed men and women emerged from hiding, looking at and whispering to each other. As their attentions were not on them, the woman stole a glance down at Alekto and winked. ”What proof have you,” the man asked after some deliberation with his fellows. ”Proof? What proof indeed. Why else would anyone walk around here with a symbol of one of the pretenders about her neck? Even the Iomedaeans exercise discretion on this side of the river. So, either I am insane, which I am not, or I am telling the truth.” The cultist looked at each other before shrugging as one. ”Very well, may you succeed sister,” the leader of the group tells the woman. They were well out of sight when Alekto sees the woman hold onto the silver symbol hanging form her neck as she had been since she’d rescued the young girl. ”Desna, forgive my words, though the be empty.” Desna, Alekto thought, her eyes drooping in the waning sunlight, is that who Papa followed?” === Warm. She felt warm. Slowly, reluctantly even, Alekto returned to the waking world. She was in a small room with stone walls and a small fire crackling merrily in its place in the corner. The window looking out over Kenabres was frosted with snow that fell from slate-grey clouds. Heavy blankets and quilts covered her, helping to ward her from the chill outside. Was it all a dream, then? The flight into the Worldwound, the beatings, the demonic fey, and the mysterious woman? Were they all dreams? Alekto moved to sit up, only to cry out as pain lanced through her body. It wasn't a dream after all. The door opened as two acolytes of Iomedae swiftly walked in. Both of them wore slightly fixed expressions of worry. "Are you alright," one of them asked in a somewhat dull tone, as if he was trying to sound caring, but couldn't quite manage it, "We heard you scream." "Tried t'sit up," she answered through gritted teeth. The pain wasn't as sharp, but it was still there, causing her to take shallow breaths. "I would try to avoid doing that for now," the acolyte told her, "Whatever happened to you left you with a few cracked ribs. It will take time to heal," she added as she pulled out a vial, "drink this, it should help with the pain." The acolyte held up Alekto's head and put the vial to her lips. The bitter liquid almost locked the young girl's jaw, but soon, the pain was subsiding and faded until it was only a dull ache. "Better," the acolyte asked, her eyes softening a bit as she saw her charge relax some. "Yes," Alekto answered in a more normal voice. A part of her wanted to snarl at being so helpless, at being weak, at accepting the help of these holier-than-thou priests and priestesses, but that part had been growing smaller every day, so much so that it was rare she even noticed the feelings. Today was not one of those days. It worried her, and she wondered if that trek out into the Wounded Lands had left more scars on her than a few cracked ribs and a mural of painful bruises. What if it had awoken something inside of her? She lay there as the acolytes went about tidying up the room and making sure she was comfortable. As they left, she called out to the young woman. "C-can you--" she said, her voice cracking as long buried memories brought tears to her eyes, "can you stay? Please?" The young woman looked to the other acolyte, her brow knitted in indecision. The young man nodded, saying, "stay if you want. I can handle the rest of our chores." === It was several hours later before Alekto and the young woman, Brie Valetinus, were finished talking. The young girl had told Brie everything she remembered. How she met Father Talmus, how she'd been beaten bloody when she had tried to see him on his deathbed, how she'd tried to do good and fallen in with the Demonspit gang, and how she'd been beaten and beaten as what was left of the gang dragged into the Worldwound. By the end of her tale, both of them were crying. Brie hugged the young girl, letting her compassion take reign. "It's okay, Alekto," she whispered, "it's okay to cry. It's okay to hurt. We'll help you be the person you want to be. I promise." Alekto, fell asleep as she cried that night, Brie holding her, comforting her, until she had. === Alekto shuffled down a hallway of the Kenabres Cathedral. She was healing, and quickly, but she'd been badly hurt, and it still hurt for her to move quickly. She had also cried more in the past week than she had in the past six years. Alfsigr, the baker that had been so kind to her, had stopped by no less than three times, bringing the young girl a treat and a warm meal each time. As she had recovered, she'd also come to know the names and faces of many of the clerics, paladins, and acolytes that made their home in the cathedral. Brie, though was the one she had grown the closest to, almost as a sister. She pondered as she roamed the corridors. What had happened to that woman who'd saved he? The guards patrolling the area around Kenabres had found her alone on the old path that lead into the Wounded Lands. Seeing that she was injured and suffering from exposure to the cold, they brought her to the Cathedral to be treated and to heal. That was all they knew. They had never seen the woman she had described, or anyone else. It was all so odd. People didn't just vanish into thin air without a trace. Still, not everything she had learned since then had been as frustrating. For one, she'd finally begun learning about her papa's faith. Desna, that was the goddess he had worshiped and served. She was the goddess of dreams and journeys, the Starsong. She'd been learning as much as she could from the Desnan clerics, many of whom recognized her form the descriptions Father Talmus had given them. Fables and lessons on what Desna's faith was were mixed with stories and tales about Talmus and his travels. It had only been a week, but already she felt as if she'd barely learned about her papa before he had been taken from this life. "Hello, Alekto. How are you this day," the voice of an elderly woman asked, pulling her from her reverie. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Malavaki," she said as she turned to the gray-haired priestess standing beside her, "I'm doing okay, it still hurts if I move too fast though." "That's good dear," the priestess replied, her face splitting into a wide smile, "Talmus would be glad to her you are doing well, and he'd be proud of you." "Me? I--" Alekto looked away, shame burning on her face, "I don't know about that." "He would," the priestess said, gently rebuking the young girl, "We have all heard of what happened after Talmus' passing, and you have done better than many, even those who were born of a more celestial bent, and you have tried to make right your wrongs. That would make anyone proud of you," she paused, letting Alekto soak in her words. "But I didn't come find you to tell you things that you should already know," she added after a moment, her smile returning, wider than before, "I came to give you this," she tells Alekto, holding up a silver butterfly symbol with sapphire wings by a fine silver chain. Alekto, too stunned to say anything, stands there, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. Tentatively, she reaches out to touch one of the wings. It was too much, too much for her. "Please, Alekto," the priestess said softly, "take it. Talmus would have loved for you to have this as a reminder, and as a symbol of who you are." === Brie had proven as good as her word. Once Alekto was deemed healthy enough, she'd begun working under an Erastillian ranger by the name of John Bones. Over the next year, she'd learned archery, swordsmanship, and how to deal with demons. It had been a hard year, and her tutelage was far from done, but today was one of the rare ones she had to roam Kenabres. She'd already visited Alfsigr, who'd commented that she was growing into a fine young woman, and Talmus' resting place. Now, she was wandering where ever chance lead. Who knows, maybe she'd find something new. She turned down an alley, hoping to see if this was a new way to get to that tavern she'd found last time. She wanted to see if the keeper would let her sing there for a little while. It was a fine afternoon and she would have plenty of time to recover even if she did sing all night. Halfway through the alley, she stopped. Something didn't feel right here. Her time as the scout and trap-handler for a gang and her skills honed by the tutelage of John Bones all told her to get out of here. She wasn't fast enough. "Well, well, well," an all too familiar voice crooned, "Look who it is. Alekto the Demon B##+&." Louis Alberwood stepped out behind her, blocking her way back while two other thugs emerged from the shadows behind him. In front of her, another four chuckled evilly as they boxed her in. "What do you want, Louis? I'm not a part of you little group of thugs anymore," Alekto asked, silently kicking herself for not noticing the ambush sooner. "Do you even have to ask? I want what I'm owed," Louis said in that greasy voice he'd cultivated while Alekto was still in his little gang. Alekto turned to face Louis, trying to ignore her skin crawling as she felt the leers of the seven thugs around her. It had been a year since she'd last seen Louis, and a part of her had believed he had died out there in the Worldwound. She didn't want anything to do with Louis, if she could help it. It appeared that fate had other ideas. "I don't know why you are going after me then, I don't owe you a thing," Alekto said, her eyes narrowing as her mind tried to work out an escape. "Well, it looks like we've got ourselves a comedian," Louis chuckled, even smiled as his cronies joined him. Alekto felt herself tensing, waiting for them to slip. Instead, two meaty hands wrapped around her neck and hauled her off the ground. Louis was almost a full foot taller than her, and he was holding her a head above his. Their iron grip choked a cough out of her, but she could still breath. There was no laughter in his face then, only pure raw anger and hatred twisting his features into a grotesque mask. "Don't play dumb with me, you b%+&%," he hissed angrily at her, "your pale ass is mine." A hideous smile slowly spread across his face before he added, "though I will say that a year can make quite a difference. Before, you were flat as a washboard, and now, you're half-way to being a real woman." The thugs gathered around, lax, lazy, inattentive. They chuckled at their boss's words, and admired the way her clothing pulled on her hips and chest, but they never noticed the knife until it was flashing for Louis' face. A howl of pain echoed in the alleyway as Louis dropped Alekto to clutch at his face. The young woman was ready and by the time the thugs had begun to react, Alekto was already beyond them and running for the streets. Blood dripped from her dagger as she rushed down the main thoroughfares looking for anyone she could ask for help from against seven thugs. === Alekto shuddered against the crumbling stone wall just outside of the town gates. The sun stained the sky red and gold as it set. "Here," A burly ranger dressed in worn leathers said as he tossed a bundle into the young woman's lap, "you're going to need these." "Bones, what you talking about," Brie, now a full member of Iomedae's clergy, asked. "She's too recognizable. Her hair and eyes are too distinctive and it's either change them or hide them," John Bones answered. "But--" "It's okay Brie," Alekto said, stopping the older girl's retort, "I should have known that Louis would be looking for me if he had survived. Besides, he can't go around stopping everyone hiding their face." Alektop looked up at her friend and gave her a wane smile, "I'll just have to hide in plain site is all. I'll be okay." === Armasse was tomorrow. It had been about three years since Alekto had last run into Louis, and she was beginning to hope that he'd forgotten about her. She'd finished her apprenticeship under John Bones some months before and had continued to work along side him and Brie in scouting the roads leading from Kenabres, keeping them clear of bandits and traps, but tomorrow, she'd have the day to herself to enjoy the festival. Brie, though wasn't so lucky, having pulled street patrol. The young woman wondered if she should try to bump into Brie's patrol with a basket of Alfsigr's pastries. Maybe, she'd have to see if she had enough coin for it, then she'd have to see if Alfsigr had the pastries for her to buy. Those were concerns for tomorrow. Tonight, she needed to find a place to sleep. She'd slept in a different place every night she was in town, hoping that Louis would neve catch her if she wasn't in the same place every night. She may hope he had forgotten, but the fear she felt that day still felt fresh each time she remembered his hands around her neck. She held onto the holy symbol of Desna she'd been given. She drew comfort form it and even now, it still filled her with wonder that someone would have given her such a gift. Alekto shook her head and continued her search. the night was still young, but she was tired after the long day she had endured. It would be good to get some sleep and see what dreams awaited her.
Crunch:
Alekto Demon-spawn tiefling ranger 1/rogue (unchained) 1/gestalt 1 (Pathfinder Player Companion: Blood of Fiends 20, Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 264, Pathfinder Unchained 20) CG Medium outsider (native) Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +7 -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +3 Dex) hp 12 (1d10+2) Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +1 Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. Melee dagger +4 (1d4+3/19-20) or . . gladius +4 (1d6+3/19-20) or . . kerambit +4 (1d3+3/×3) or . . kerambit +4 (1d3+3/×3) or . . longsword +4 (1d8+3/19-20) Ranged longbow +4 (1d8/×3) Special Attacks favored enemy (evil outsiders +2), sneak attack (unchained) +1d6 Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +3) . . 1/day—shatter (DC 14) -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 16, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 14 Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 17 Feats Point-Blank Shot, Weapon Finesse Traits chance encounter, hard to kill Skills Acrobatics +6, Diplomacy +6, Disable Device +9, Disguise +6, Perception +7, Perform (sing) +6, Profession (cook) +5, Sleight of Hand +6, Stealth +6; Racial Modifiers +2 Disable Device, +2 Perception Languages Abyssal, Common SQ track +1, trapfinding +1, wild empathy +3 Combat Gear holy water; Other Gear studded leather, arrows (40), dagger (4), gladius[UC], kerambit[UC], kerambit[UC], longbow, longsword, bedroll, blanket[APG], cutting board, wooden (2 lb), explorer's outfit, knife, cutting (0.5 lb), ladle (0.5 lb), masterwork backpack[APG], pot, seasonings, local (0.5 lb), silver holy symbol of Desna, skewer (1 lb), skillet[UE], thieves' tools, tinder packet (0.5 lb), tripod, iron (3 lb), 12 gp, 4 sp -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Chance Encounter (1/day) Re-reroll failed Acrobatics, Bluff, Disguise, Sleight of Hand or Stealth check, keep 2nd result. Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only). Energy Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Cold attacks. Energy Resistance, Electricity (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Electricity attacks. Energy Resistance, Fire (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Fire attacks. Favored Enemy (Evil Outsiders +2) (Ex) +2 to rolls vs. Favored Enemy (Evil Outsiders) foes. Hard to Kill When dying, your penalty to stabilize is only 1/2 your negative Hp. Point-Blank Shot +1 to attack and damage rolls with ranged weapons at up to 30 feet. Sneak Attack (Unchained) +1d6 Attacks deal extra dam if flank foe or if foe is flat-footed. Track +1 Add the listed bonus to survival checks made to track. Trapfinding +1 Gain a bonus to find or disable traps, including magical ones. Wild Empathy +3 (Ex) Improve the attitude of an animal, as if using Diplomacy. Concealed Weapons:
Dagger: Left Boot, Perception DC 28 Dagger: Right Boot, Perception DC 26 Dagger: Left Hip (Sash), Perception DC 25 Kerambit: Right Hip (Sash), Perception DC 19 Dagger: Back (Sash), Perception DC 22 Items tagged with (Sash) are in the same sash and will all fall out if the sash is removed.
Appearance:
Age: 17 ish Height: 5' 1" Weight: 100 lbs. Hair: Black with bright red tips (happens naturally. After cutting her hair, the tips turn bright red over the next hour.) Eyes: Ruby-red Skin: Pale, almost white Alekto is a petite, beautiful, young woman. Her eyes are ruby-red, like the heart of a fine red wine. Her skin is a pale porcelain that doesn't seem to tan at all. Her hair is black with naturally bright red tips. She wears it long, braiding it to keep it out of her way. Her slender frame is narrow at the waist and shoulders, and wide at the hips. She prefers to wear clothing that hides her figure, however, wearing loose tunics and pants while covering her hair with her cloak's hood and her face with a scarf. She wears dark grays and blacks to help her blend in while scouting at night, since her eyes have no issue seeing in the dark. She also wears a wide, long sash that she ties above her sword belt and uses to help conceal some of her knives on her person.
Personality:
Alekto is both friendly and wary at once. While she is easy-going and willing to converse, she often steers the subject away from herself when speaking with people outside her closest friends. Winning her trust can be difficult, and her inability to really open up with others makes it hard for her to make new friends, while frustrating her old friends to no end. NPC Relations:
@ GM Runescarred Dragon: I'm putting this here in case you would like to use some of the NPCs from her background. I know when I am GMing I like to tweak and add things so that the background of the PCs is used more in the main story. I don't know if you are the same way, but I felt that it would be more convenient for you to place all of this info here for your perusal if you did want to use it. Talmus - Male Cleric of Desna (DECEASED)
Alfsigr - Female Human(Ulfen)
Louis Alberwood - Male Human
Brie Valetinus - Female Cleric of Iomedae
John Bones - Male Ranger of Erastil
Ms. Malavaki - Female Cleric of Desna
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