Init +2; Senses low-light vision; Perception +14
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 15, flat-footed 13 (+2 Dex, +3 untyped)
hp 9 (1d8+1)
Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5; +2 vs. enchantments
Immune sleep
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee unarmed strike +2 (1d6+2)
Ranged shortbow +2 (1d6/×3)
Special Attacks flurry of blows
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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 13, Wis 17, Cha 8
Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 17
Feats Alertness, Improved Unarmed Strike, Perfect Strike, Precise Shot, Skill Focus (Perception)
Traits Vagabond Child (urban)
Chance Encounter:
Once per day, if you fail an Acrobatics, Bluff, Disguise, Sleight of Hand, or Stealth check, you may immediately reroll that check as a free action. You must take the second result, even if it is worse.
Skills Acrobatics +6, Craft (Brewing) +5, Disable Device +7, Escape Artist +6, Perception +14, Sense Motive +9, Stealth +6; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception, silent hunter
Languages Abyssal, Common, Elven
SQ ac bonus, elf blood, monk vows (vow of truth), unarmed strike
Combat Gear cold iron arrows (50); Other Gear shortbow
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Special Abilities
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AC Bonus +3 The Monk adds his Wisdom bonus to AC and CMD, more at higher levels.
Elf Blood Half-elves count as both elves and humans for any effect related to race.
Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Flurry of Blows -1/-1 (Ex) Make Flurry of Blows attack as a full rd action.
Improved Unarmed Strike Unarmed strikes don't cause attacks of opportunity, and can be lethal.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Perfect Strike (2d20) (1/day) With certain weapons, roll twice, higher is attack, lower is confirmation roll.
Precise Shot You don't get -4 to hit when shooting or throwing into melee.
Silent Hunter Reduce Steath penalty for moving by -5, can make Stealth checks while running (at -20 - includes reduced penalty).
Unarmed Strike (1d6) The Monk does lethal damage with his unarmed strikes.
Vow of Truth (+1 Ki):
The monk is not allowed to deliberately speak any lies, including bluffing, stating half-truths with the intent to deceive, exaggerating, telling white lies, and so on. This applies to all forms of communication. If presented with circumstances where telling the truth would bring harm to another, the monk remains silent. Many monks of this vow also take a vow of silence to show their commitment. A monk with this vow increases his ki pool by 1 ki point for every 5 monk levels (minimum +1).
A Chance Encounter:
Life on the streets of Kenebres is a harsh place for the poor and refugees. With so many seeking refuge from the lands tormented by the demon forces, resources are spread thin for those with little to trade. As a war orphan, young Shoka and his four friends learned quickly that in order to eat - in order to live, one can't be too picky or scrupulous in the means to attaining the next meal or bed.
The city watch was too vigilant, and even the headstrong boys would not test their luck enough to steal from the camps of Crusaders and mercenaries. But the road to Nerosyan - it was dangerous, but well traveled by the merchants and military alike. South of the city - about a day's walk - they infiltrated supply wagons and pilfered what they could eat or sell.
As they approached a mark one night, Shoka jumped near out of his too-large boots as hands pulled him down and covered his mouth. A beautiful face filled his eyes, a finger over beautiful lips signaled for his silence. Uncovering his mouth, she gestured toward the campfires ahead. No. No, they were... Hissing at his companions to abandon the assault, he stared at the growing flames in the distance. Not campfires - the wagons themselves were ablaze! Sounds filled the air that he had mistaken for jovial song - chanting. Ritual chanting, whose rythm was broken by screams of agony. "Cultists," the beautiful lips whispered.
Gathering his friends, the six rushed North through the high grass, until the wagon fires were but a soft orange glow on the horizon. The woman led them back to the road, still north to the the safety of Kenebres walls. They remained silent, though Shoka at least burned with questions. Something in her manner told him the danger had not passed. Her eyes, piercing yet gentle, and... sad. She practically wringed her hands around a winged fetish, some religious relic he half-recognized. They plodded along on tired feet and empty bellies, sky lightening with the arrival of the sun.
Who was she? Had she somehow escaped from the doomed merchant train? Emboldened by the fleeing of night, he finally spoke. "Thank you," was all he could manage. She stopped walking, and one by one the boys followed suit. Looking at each other in confusion, they followed her gaze up the road. Crusaders! They must have seen the wagons' flames, and come to investigate!
Turning back to their beautiful rescuer, Shoka was shocked to find nothing but an empty road.
