Hawk here with Andrasta, the resident trouble maker accompanied by her looming guardian Ancile, the animate suit of armor. Crunch has all been handled (see here and here again) for stat blocks. General build idea will be to focus on claws and grappling as she levels, with extra care being given to take what damage she can. I blame tea and untamed joy at playing a synthesist for the speed this came out.
Quietly, the dark haired girl hissed her satisfaction. That map had cost her two months wages, and she had initially thought she'd been duped. The trail of skeletons that had been awaiting her proved that something, perhaps not the mighty weapon the halfling had promised, but something was ahead of her. Granted, she very well would have died and still came close, if not for careful observation of the bodies. Combined with somewhat of an obsession with dungeons and their ilk, she had worked past two seemingly bottomless pits, three swinging axes, one crush room, and some weird rotating puzzle, with victory in sight.
Placing her dagger in the crack between the stones, Andrasta gave it a good stomp to ensure her makeshift hold wouldn't break on her. Using a section of rope, she began to rappel down. Halfway down, she heard the noise of her blade working itself free only a moment before she plummeted to the ground.
Landing in a haphazard tumble, Andrasta's mouth did it's best impression of a Sandpoint sailor. Picking herself up, she glanced about looking for traps. Nothing I can see, and it would kind of take the sport out of it at this point. One could say many things about the changeling, but lacking in courage she was not.
As she neared the pedestal, she couldn't help but note how...plain the supposed weapon of lore was. Dark hells below, it wasn't even a weapon, just a dark gauntlet with an engraved sigil of an armored fist on it. Kind of self defeating, isn't it? Picking it up and feeling no sudden shock, Andrasta sighed. "Stupid of me to assume someone didn't just make up this story." Even as she berated herself, the young woman idly put it on, noticing it fit her sharpened nails with ease.
As soon as it fitted to her hand, the gauntlet lifted itself up, hoisting the hag born into the air kicking and struggling to free herself. "You sure didn't fit this much going on!" As she spun, she noticed the massive figure looming before her.
It looked like some sort of dark overlord, dark, engraved plate adorned with spikes sporting a fur lined cloak of all things. In a booming baritone that reeked on things high on Andrasta's list not to mess with, just below dire sharks, it chortled. "Seems you're stuck child."
Twisting to leverage her legs against the gauntlet, the changling retorted, "Well, I don't suppose you have some universal solvent on you?" Even as she quipped, her eye caught the distinct lack of a gauntlet on the figure's right side, the same side currently trapped on her end. Putting two and two together, she realized her situation with a groan.
Giving a grunt of approval, the figure leaned close, the empty great helm sending shiver's down her spine. "You have fire girl, and decent skill to make it to my resting place." Grabbing her trapped limb with his remaining one, she got the distinct feeling the armor would have had a vicious grin. "You'll make a wonderful partner."
Andrasta fancied herself a tough woman, but as the figure fell apart and launched itself towards her, she screamed. As it coalesced around her, she felt the searing sensation on her forehead, prompting even louder screams. As she collapsed, the magic holding her up dissappeared, she managed to run a hand over her forehead, noting the sigil's presence on her head even as her addled mine noted the sensation even though the ebony plate.
"Good, you still have your wits about you." Whirling at that deep baritone, the young woman spun, her movements faster than she had thought possible.
"What...?" A flex of her hand did little to dispel the sensation of strength that flooded her veins.
"My strength is your might, my aegis is your defense, my fury is your wrath. You may call me Ancile.