"My nephew is right, we should know the location, in case we get separated. Also, who is this Arael fellow?" Antal tries to step as much as he can on the edges of the water to stay dry.
"Well I suppose that's subtlety out the door. Hup!" Antal says as he drops through the trapdoor into the sewer. "And now my shoes are ruined. This day just keeps getting better." The halfling keeps his hands up, keeping his prized cane and crossbow from the dirty water.
"Fool boy, listen to your elders when they tell you things." A sound rap on the skull with the little halfling's cane drives the idea home. "Ugh... the sewers. I suppose having ones pants dirtied could be better than being run through by our friends. I will endeavor to move ahead and see how we can go about it." Antal moves into the kitchen, searching for the trapdoor.
Antal stands to his full height and steps near the boy with his mug. "Drink this boy. Dust will have caked upon your esophogal tract while you ran. This will help a bit, after a few sips breathe slowly and deeply." Antal watches carefully as the boy drinks the lemonade, and listens carefully to his breathing.
Antal leans back in his chair. "I've heard speeches like this before. What makes your little revolution more likely to succeed than any that have come before?" The aging halfling is clearly unimpressed. "I wish to help this city as well, but idealism only brings one so far. Plans are important, and I would not like to have the Hellknights come and knock over my shop because someone got careless. What exactly are you proposing Janiven?"
Sucks being the voice of reason in a room of idealists.
"Of Course, dinner. It would be impolite to discuss such things on an empty stomach in any case. I will have lemonade should you be so kind as to pour me some." The halfling sits at the table and adjusts his fine hat. "Some cheese would be lovely, thank you, Coran... was it?" He takes his slice and begins to eat carefully. "I feel that we must all have some aspects of a similar personality if we are to be called to this secret meeting. Namely, that we all feel the need for change upon the streets and parapets of our fair city." Antal tends to make grand gestures as he speaks, which looks rather more impressive with his cane than with a slice of cheese.
"Well my boy, you are only 18 years, no one expects you to be as old and wise as a well-travelled elder." Antal steps lightly into the room and looks around. Then sweeps his hat from his head and bows over his cane. "Antal Syiel, at your service my fine lady. I trust this oddly coloured fellow is another associate? That is a rather fine bat on your shoulder my boy, is it a Varisian Hollowchest?" Antal holds out his hand to shake.
Antal will arrive with his Nephew right on time. "Now now, my boy. Those aren't the kind of stories you need. After all, what kind of story has no goblins. Only a half naked man? Should have been dragging him through hobgoblins. You need to get to know some bards my boy." The small halfling raps lightly with his cane at the tavern door. "Antal Syiel, here by invitation of the riveting Lady Janiven." The alchemist leans upon his cane and peers at the door annoyed. "One would be of the opinion that a 'tavern' would be open at this juncture. After all, it is near suppertime, which is the time at which the proprietor would be making most of his currency."
"Well now. What an odd young woman. Are you unharmed Franco?" Antal brushes off his fine coat, picks up his hat and takes up his walking cane again. "Vizio's Tavern. Tomorrow. 4 o'clock. Sounds rather shady. Perhaps a tad dark and conspiratory." The dapper little halfling smiles. "Should be fun. Shall we enjoy and evening with the young lady and our counterparts Franco? Who knows, perhaps she has a true opportunity for bettering the lives of the Wiscrani about us." Without waiting for an answer Antal heads inside, sitting down at his regular stall and laying out an impressive collection of salves, potions and other medical supplies.
Antal is pleased to join his friends and allies in crime.
Also, as long as the GM is ok with it, this seems the perfect char to do an IC character journal with. Just give me a thought on whether or not you'd enjoy that Lichtor.
I'm fine with that, sounds like some fun drama to play a bit into, however I feel it might be more like Antal would be an uncle (considering the difference in our ages, and that Antal sees Meddyg more as a mentor and not as a father.) Antal would have been around 30 when he got training from Meddyg. But I think tying the stories together sounds fun.
In respect to the shadow beasts- do they fly or are they incorporeal? Would they come out over the water? Would sleeping out on barge be safe...er? I take it they keep away from fire and light- Would it be safe to be in an enclosed ruin somewhere with a fire or other light source at the entrance?
While it's never explicitly spelled out how many and what varieties the shadow beasts are, they do have issues with light, avoiding it if they can. However, unless you had a roaring fire at the entrance, I don't know if it would keep them away. They are not incorporeal. Just a few thoughts.
Meddyg Apothecaries: A large organization of Apothecaries that does business under one roof in Rego Cader. The owner of the building and chief apothecary is Meddyg Niorlo, a Half-Elven Potions maker. Those who wish to sell there must pay him for the privilege, but it is cheaper than buying and attempting to start ones own shop, particularly with the cutthroat business model around the area. Antal can be found here most days, dropping a small amount to ensure that he can work as an apothecary and healer from the building.
NPCs:
Meddyg Niorlo: Antal and the Half-Elf who first employed him after his near death run from the authorities have become very close. Antal sees Meddyg as a mentor, particularly since the older apothecary opened his eyes about how useful alchemy can be to a healer. They share dinner every week, talking of many things old and new. Meddyg is a middle aged elf whose odd parentage has been a curse to him. Somehow his elven and human blood reacted badly, and have caused ugly facial deformities. He is a bitter man, but not without remorse. He has of late been threatened by rival organizations who resent his groups influence in Rego Cader.
Gwenwyn Roshyn: A beautiful Tiefling with a nose for trouble, Gwenlyn has been cast from society as long as she remembers. Her red-tinted skin, tiny vestigial horns, slender frame and long luxurious black hair mark her succubus heritage well, and she has used these to great advantage in her career as a prostitute. Antal visits her regularly, though never for the services she advertises. He taught her some simple potions to stave off disease many years ago and found she had an apt talent for poisons. Antal visits frequently to trade cash or healing supplies for poisons to keep himself safe.
Finally posting on my witch concept. Image to change (i think)
Sazer, is a gnome witch, who works in a shop called 'Mystic Remidies' located in Rego Cader. The shop is owned by friedns of his, who sought out Westcrown to ply their trade in the healing arts. With the decline of the sector and danger stalking the night, business has been bad. Each evening, Sazer accompanies them to the dusk market as they sell their salves and potions for what meager coin they can get.
A extremely curious gnome, Sazer has tried on numerous occasions to explore Delvehaven nad has written to the pathfinder lodge in Absolom, hoiping for aid in exploring the fallen lodge. Recently he's recieved a letter encouraging him and a wayfinder. He has no idea who his benefactor is, and the mystery of the benefactor and the lodge consume his free time. Sazer is also enamored with the element of fire, seeing in its cleansing power a chanced to change westcrown.
If we both get in we could likely know one another. I was planning on having Antal work with an apothecary, so being with the same or a rival could be fun. Just a connecting thought.
Also should have Description, Personality, Background, NPCs, and Areas up tonight.
Got traits, equipment, extracts, and Special abilities done on Antal here. Planning on making him a bit bookish, taking notes on things that intrigue him. Enemies who die, and who are of odd types (Shadow Beasts, any animals he hasn't seen, demons or devils) will likely get dissected by the little anatomist. He's eager to learn. Also planning on working toward a healers and surgeons kit as soon as possible.
Here's a bit of him, need to throw together equipment, history and descriptions and such. But I get it, I personally think Greatblade is underestimated in roleplaying but I'm ok to play this one anyway. And he generally tries to avoid killing people anyhow so... yeah there's that. He'll stabilize downed enemies and keep them alive if he can, unless there's a very convincing reason to kill them. He's not a monster after all. Might change his skills around a bit, but that's ok. Any thoughts?
Dex Camulus
Male Human Brawler 8 - Favored Class (Brawler, +hp)
NG Medium Humanoid
Initiative +4; Perception +17
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Defense
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AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-Footed 18 (+2 Dex, +6 Chain Shirt, +1 Ring of Protection, +1 AC Bonus)
HP: 84(8d10+24+8)
Fort +10, Ref +10, Will +7
Speed 30 ft
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Offense
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Melee
Unarmed Strike +15/+10 x2 1d10+8
Unarmed Strike (Brawler’s Flurry) +13/+13/+8/+8 x2 1d10+8
Ranged
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Statistics
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Str 19 (21) Dex 14 Con 14 (16) Int 10 Wis 12 Cha 10
BAB +8/+3, CMB +, CMD Portrait:http://i.imgur.com/Iqvvx7K.jpg
Class Abilities:
Brawler's cunning
Martial training
Martial flexibility (Swift Action)
Brawler's flurry (Improved Two-Weapon Fighting)
Maneuver Training (Trip, Grapple)
Close Weapon Mastery
Brawler's Strike (Magic)
AC Bonus +1
Knockout 1/day
Feats:
Improved unarmed strike
Weapon Focus (Unarmed)(1st)
Power Attack (hum)
Combat Expertise (Brawler 2)
Improved Trip (3rd)
Weapon Specialization (Unarmed) (5th)
Iron Will (6th)
Pummeling Style (8th)
Traits:
Criminal (Disable Device as class skill)
Reactionary (+2 Init)
Skills:
Acrobatics +12 (8 Ranks, +2 Dex, +3 Class skill, -1 ACP)
Climb +9 (2 ranks, +5 Str, +3 Class skill, -1 ACP)
Craft Armor +9 (6 Ranks, +3 Class skill)
Disable Device +19 (8 Ranks, +2 Dex, +3 Class skill, +1 Trait, +5 Trapspringer’s Gloves)
Perception +17 (8 Ranks, +1 Wis, +3 Class skill, +5 Eyes of the Eagle)
Sense Motive +11 (7 Ranks, +1 Wis, +3 Class skill)
Swim +8 (1 Rank, +5 Str, +3 Class skill, -1 ACP)
Languages: Common
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Equipment
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Explorer's Outfit
Belt of Physical Might (Str, Con)
Amulet of Mighty Fists +1
Cloak of Resistance +2
Eyes of the Eagle
Ring of Protection +1
Ring of Sustenance
Trapspringers Gloves
Description:
Dex stands tall, an absolute mountain of a man, clad in functional explorer’s clothing. A soft rustling can be heard as he moves from a chain shirt worn under his clothes. Not wanting to cloud his field of view or affect his hearing Dex is rarely seen wearing a hat or a helmet, revealing an exotic mix of Taldan and Varisian features, not to mention countless scars built from a lifetime of rough living. Dex typically keeps his hair dark hair shaved close, as to not make an attractive target to grab while in close combat. Typically when not dressed in armor, Dex is dressed in well-crafted and functional attire, focusing more on function than fashion.
Personality:
Dex affects a disciplined personality, preferring to get straight to the point and provide all the necessary facts of a situation. He is readily aware that he isn’t the smartest or most charismatic person around and leans on his natural wisdom to get his point across. In battle however, Dex voice is quick to turn razor sharp as he barks orders and aids his allies. When not in battle he prefers the company of people to being alone and can be found rubbing elbows with everyone: from commoners to soldiers. Paramount to Dex personality is trust, if he feels betrayed by someone, there is often little that can be done to regain it.
Background:
Dex’s first memory was hunger, it was a persistent feeling, one that stayed with him for a number of years. The memory was strong enough to blur the woman who, intellectually, Dex knew to be his mother, but could never recall her face. Even to this day his early memories comprise of feet, dirty rooms, and strange men. They all paled to the pang of hunger, it was always there, like a cold blanket.
Dex’s second memory was the cage, many years after the first. The hunger was further away now, Dex could think and felt better than ever before in his short life. A strange man brought him food regularly, better food than he had ever eaten before. The man told him that a special ‘buyer’ with ‘discerning tastes’ was coming to take a look at him and that he was to be on his best behavior or the food would stop.
The buyer was a rich looking fat man, a bad man. The way the man looked at Dex filled him with an irrational fear. So much fear that when the man reached out to touch Dex through the bars of his cage that Dex struck with the only thing available to him, his teeth. He bit down hard on the first finger he saw, biting straight through the first knuckle of the man’s finger, spitting the small digit out on the floor. The fat man howled beyond pain, cursing and crying as he ran off away from Dex’s cage.
Afterwards, the strange man’s rage was legendary. He beat Dex senseless - until the world went black and threw him out into the gutter thinking him dead. He would have been, if not for Smiling Tom, who picked Dex’s broken body off the ground and spirited him away.
As the name suggests, Smiling Tom was not an average man, he was a thief, a con-man, a burglar; a man who played the world as a bard played the stage. Smiling Tom always kept a sharp eye for the broken and the lost on the street, he found the talent young, he trained them, and in exchange they were loyal to one another. Under Smiling Tom’s care Dex found a home, and a family. The hunger was banished with regular meals, and he quickly gained four adoptive siblings: Tanner, Cayden, Zoe and Dwenn. Life was good.
Life in Riddleport’s criminal world was brutal. Gangs turned on one another faster than the tide changed, knives drawing blood in the alleyways over the smallest slights, at times escalating into major conflicts, littering the street with bodies and burnt buildings. The survival of Smiling Tom’s gang was dependant on not being noticed as a major player, quick con here, a few lightened pockets there, never drawing too much attention from the larger gangs. The smaller gangs – ones eager to make names for themselves, were already more enough to worry about for their small family.
As the years wore on, patient tutelage from Smiling Tom and endless practice earned Dex a reputation for breaking locks in a heartbeat, with the brutal fights and bloody ambushes between rival gangs teaching him how to break bones just as quickly. As Smiling Tom’s advancing age began to catch up with him, he began to defer responsibility to Dex, attempting to teach Dex to use more than just his fists to solve a problem. As Smiling Tom’s health waned, so did the group’s taking, unable to reliably enjoy the same success they had in the past. Hoping to compensate for the change in the gang’s fortune Dex devoted his energies in a different direction, channeling his skills as a professional pugilist.
Fights in Riddleport’s underground attracted a great deal of money, as befitting the wealth centred in the city. Be it from nobles slumming among the commoners or trade lords letting loose steam, fortunes were won and lost at the end of broken and bloody knuckles every day. As the entered the fighting circuit Dex quickly established a reputation as a competent, if raw fighter, climbing quickly in the rankings, disrupting a careful equilibrium maintained by the larger gangs.
One day, before a match, Dex was dragged aside by a number of the more powerful gang leaders, and unceremoniously informed this would be his last fight. “Kid, you’ve got a massive bronze pair the way you’ve waltzed in here and started beating in heads, personally I love it. But the problem is, you’re costing us money now, our young fighters have turned timid, people aren’t betting as much. Bad business. We know you’re here because Smiling Tom is knocking on death’s door and your kin isn’t taking as much as before, so we’ve decided to help you out. We’ve sent a few Cutters to help Smiling Tom take that final step. So you won’t be having to worry about him anymore and scaring our fighters. As for you, you’re to go out there into the pit, and let that boy beat on you until we say stop. We’ll then drop whatever is left of your sorry self on the edge of town, it’d be best for you to piss off by morning.”
Dex had no chance to get a word in otherwise. The gang leaders had half a dozen bladed toughs frogmarch him into the arena, unceremoniously kicking him in with a boot to the back, shortly followed by the ringing of the arena bell. As the shock cleared, Dex emotions erupted with anger and defiance, not wasting a heartbeat he assaulted his opponent with the fury of a thunderstorm, landing half a dozen blows before he realized that he was attacking a dead man. To this day he only vaguely remembers climbing out of the ring, and fighting a path out from the arena as he ran back to his gang’s hideout.
His worse fears were confirmed when he arrived. Smiling Tom and his adoptive brothers and sisters, had all gone down fighting, their blood and bodies showing that none backed down in the slightest. With the wounds taken during his flight from the Arena burning and knowing it would only be a matter of time before the cutters returned for him, Dex fled the city. His family was gone, there was no reason to stay, he wasn’t strong enough to enact revenge on the stronger gangs, especially once they mustered their strength and he didn’t want to die.
Raiding what little there was left in his gang’s coffers, Dex’s flight took him to the docks of Riddleport where he purchased a trip to Absalom, attempting to get as far away as possible from his old home. Despite the long trip, Dex was broken and aimless, having little to live for. He survived by living mechanically, helping the outlying farmers on the island with their toil, helping bring in the harvest in exchange for food and lodging. Once again, Dex found his old friend, Hunger, return to him as he refused to resort to the petty theft that he once lived off of.
Had circumstances been different, Dex may have continued a simple life in Absalom. However on a day when he was looking for work in the city proper, he came across a mercenary recruiter looking for men and bodies to fill out a company headed to the River Kingdoms. Hunger driving Dex’s decision, he signed up. The last few years had been lean and a day to day existence was starting to take its toll on Dex, anything was an improvement over his current lot in life.
As it often is in the River Kingdoms, over the next eight years Dex went to war. Conflict after conflict consumed Dex’s life, turning a malnourished boy into a fearsome beast of a man. Where others died in bloody combat, Dex fought on, at times surviving the mercenary company he was enlisted with. From storming castles to raiding wizard’s sanctums, Dex gained a reputation as a competent soldier and fierce combatant. As the years wore on however (and after outliving his last mercenary company), Dex became tired of the endless warfare and left back to Absalom. Trading in on the reputation he created for himself over the last few years Dex enjoyed a restful stay in Absalom, at least until word of Korvosa’s troubles reached the Island.
Hearing of the King’s death and the surrounding riots, Dex looked at the chaos as a fantastic opportunity to earn a great deal of money. When rich people were scared, they tended to need people to protect them or needed people to solve their problem. In either case, Dex was ready to command a hefty price for his service.
