Carthas Enritch's page

Half-elf, warpriest of Ashava 2/unclaimed rogue (dark lurker) 6. Primarily a melee striker, with rogue skills (including trapfinding), plus ability to face, with a specialization in infiltration.

Carthas is a member of Ashava's clergy, and has spent most of his adventuring days tracking down, infiltrating, and eliminating groups that the church opposes. To date, he's broken up two cells of necromancers and a small cult of Kuthites in Cheliax. He was drawn to northern Nidal by rumors of undead activity, but he is waiting for inspiration from the goddess before making specific plans.

I've been playing Pathfinder for several years and I'm a 4-star Pathfinder Society GM. I also run my own home campaign and do some freelance writing for Pathfinder and Starfinder. I started playing-by-post earlier this year and loving the format I'm playing in a few games and running two at the moment, with a third picking up during Retrocon in January.

I will be quiet as a mouse in a midnight field.
Though his father always assured him that he was as welcome in the small village as anyone, Carthas felt his half-elf heritage keenly during his teenage years, and he was apt to slip out his bedroom window and wander, alone and moping, along the verges of the woods after the rest of the townspeople lay sleeping. He could not remember his elven mother, who had left their family as soon as Carthas was old enough to eat solid food and toddle around, but he knew that she had met his father in a moonlit clearing of these woods, and he was enough of an adolescent romantic to imagine that he might hear light steps in the forest himself and encounter the other side of his family. Instead, he largely spent the time stargazing and trying to see how close he could sneak up to deer before startling them. Carthas suspected his father knew of his nightly rambles, but the patient man never mentioned them, as long as Carthas was in his bed come the morning.

On one unseasonably warm night in Lamashan, he was stalking a doe, with hopes of getting within arms reach, when he was distracted by movement in his peripheral vision. Deer forgotten, he turned to trace what seemed a mere patch of shadow moving through the familiar woods. More intrigued than afraid, he decided to follow. "I'll be quiet as a mouse," he assured himself. Weaving through the woods after a shadow proved more difficult that tracking the local wildlife, and before long Carthas had lost track of his quarry. He was just about to make for home when he came to the edge of a glade that was open to the bright light of a sky-full of stars and the waxing crescent moon. At the center of the space stood the smudge of shadow that he had pursued. As he watched, the darkness resolved itself into a human form, a tall, gray-haired woman who held her arms up the the sky, then swept them apart, seemingly to encompass the whole of the heavens. The woman set herself, as if in preparation for a stately dance, then suddenly she turned on the balls of her feet and looked right into Carthas's eyes. "Ah, there you are, little mouse," she said in a gentle voice that carried to the glade's edge. "Hush now." With a shushing motion she gestured at the boy, who found his eyelids growing immediately heavy.

When he woke in his bed the next morning, he half-convinced himself it was all a dream, but when he slumped his way out of his room to scavenge a late breakfast, he saw the woman sitting at the table speaking to his father. That was how he met Trewyn.

Darkness shroud me, moonlight guide me.
Whack! A flour-filled packet sailed out of the night and struck Carthas between the eyes, scattering grit all over his clothes. "You call that stealth, my lead-footed apprentice?" Trewyn chuckled. Age hadn't spoiled her aim, or the force of her throw. Carthas’s forehead stung. "I could see you from a mile out!"

Carthas was 20, and the quietest tracker in the village, but that wasn't enough for his mentor, who had an uncanny sense of his whereabouts. For the past week, she had given him the impossible task of tracking her through the forest and attempting to catch her unawares. "Again!" Carthas sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting for Trewyn to disappear into the forest once more. "Ashava, protect me from your priestess. Right now, she's dancing all over my dignity."

Carthas knew that something was different about his next attempt as soon as he opened his eyes. The shadows reached out from below the trees and wrapped themselves around his legs. When he passed beneath a lattice of branches, the tracery of darkness clung to his skin. Soon, he felt he was a cloud, a piece of night, a shadow himself. His skin was cold, his eyes sharper than ever. He was nothing but movement and intention. He was compelled to walk toward the deepest, most tangled heart of the forest. He could feel that more darkness lay there, and power. The power of shadow. But, though he felt drawn toward the heart of night, Carthas found himself veering onto another path, one picked out for him in the pale light of the cresc nt moon that had just risen. "Surely Trewyn would not venture so deep into the wood, and I must still find her." And he did, following the path of moonlight, he found his mentor sitting quietly on a stump, flour-sack ready to hand. When she didn't immediately wing it at him, Carthas realized that the shadow had successfully hidden him from his teacher. He was about to sneak up behind her and shout when a smile crossed her face. "Ah, you have learned something interesting Carthas. But, when was the last time you took a bath?" She punctuated her question with a well-aimed throw, but the young student was too exultant over the ability he had discovered to be much chagrined by the coating of flour.

I am the predator in the night.
When Trewyn met Carthas on the edge of the village green, the chill of a dark Kuthona was in the air. "The archivist in Archwold, two towns over, is looking for some hired help. It seems innocent enough, but I've heard some troubling rumors about Archwold lately. So, I'll have to live without your company for a few weeks while you check it out. For the next month or so, you'll be Harper Stumps, jack-of-all trades. Keep your eyes peeled, and see that the town is safe."

Surely enough, when Carthas--that is, Harper--started on as hired help, the job was mundane enough. But, before a week had passed, the half-elf began noticing odd occurrences around the town and in the archives. A shipment of "ink" turned out to be filled with onyx gems. The storeroom of the archive contained a suspicious amount of incense. Carthas also noticed that the archivist had a habit of taking midnight strolls. What the man hadn't counted on was the hired help's ability to melt into the shadows and follow him without a sound. How thoroughly Carthas had deceived the old archivist was evident in the look of surprise on the man's face when the half-elf slipped out of the graveyard's shadows and interrupted a eldritch chant with a blade through the throat. (And none too soon, as the earth at the man's feet had started to stir.)

"My friends tell me that it's safe to walk Archwold at night," Trewyn imparted to Carthas over a cup of tea soon after. "In fact, the night is quiet round about within two days' ride. Time for you to venture farther afield."

From that point on, Carthas seldom stayed in one place long, or settled into one identity. His steps guided by paths that revealed themselves under the full moon. In lonely villages, he sought out those that preyed by night. In barrows that were long forgotten, he put the dead to rest, and hallowed their halls, bringing quiet and peace. Though he saw Trewyn infrequently, she was pleased with his progress. Lately, he felt himself drawn toward northern Nidal, where he has been hunting beasts that stalk the night.

Carthas is a half-elf of medium build with brown eyes and dark-brown hair. While his elven heritage is obvious in his grace and slightly pointed ears, he was raised among humans and has always striven to fit in among them. He's currently dressed in nondescript traveler's garb, and at a casual glance he could be a woodland hunter, tradesperson, or traveling mercenary.

Carthas is a keen observer, and he's quick to ask follow-up questions of his companions and attempt to put them at ease by actively listening. He has an unconscious habit of picking up the accent and speech mannerisms of those he spends much time with. He revels in the nighttime, and will usually volunteer for whatever shift of watch corresponds with moonrise; he thinks it a shame that so many people fear the dark and his major motivation for serving Ashava is to make the night safe for others to walk in. While he's nettled by morning people or those too afraid to take risks, his clandestine work has shown him the necessity of cooperating with people of all different strengths and personalities. Seeing himself as brave, but not foolish, he's quick to take on situations in the most practical way, whether that means stealth, negotiations, or combat.

Mechanically, the character will continue as a rogue, picking up Greater Feint at 9th.

For the evolution of the character, I'd like him to be tempted by the more sinister aspects of shadow, and possibly explore in what contexts the ends justify the means. He's a very pragmatic optimist right now, and hasn't really had to deal with the consequences of making any bad judgement calls or making unfavorable sacrifices. His beliefs in Ashava and his own abilities are firm but untested, and I'd like him to develop some more perspective and empathy and to discover that there are things out in the darkness that he probably should be afraid of.