Crunch completed, and in profile. Still working on the backstory, but I wanted to get something in before the deadline. Mainly, I need to work in his paranoia. I want that to be what brings him to Sandpoint. The monastery in question is the Temple of the Endless Step in Kaer Maga.
Backstory:
Churm's first real memory is being whipped for stealing bread, but then being given the bread to eat--and a warm, dry place to sleep. Almost everyday, he was whipped for something, but his belly had never been so full, nor his feet so warm.
He didn't really understand, but then he didn't understand a lot of things. It especially confused him when the monks--he had learned that's what the men were called--made him start whipping himself. He understood being punished, but punishing himself was strange and pointless.
The one thing he understood was fighting. He won almost every fight, but then he had to whip himself for winning. It made no sense; everybody at the monastery fought each other, but only he got in trouble for it.
Until he found a dagger lying in the street one day. It started bleeding when he touched it, and Churm suddenly saw a vision of a huge man in dark, spiked armor strolling over a battlefield. Somehow, Churm knew that he had killed all those men, and the huge man in the dark, spiked armor was pleased. And that pleased Churm.
The visions continued, but the whippings stopped when Churm ran away from the monks. He had never thought of getting paid to fight, but he was such a natural that it found him right away.
Going to update this character to fit the campaign, as he was originally created for a different AP. Will post again when he is ready for consideration.
Just dotting for now. This character was created for Iron Gods, so his backstory will need to change--and that might change his personality and mechanics as well.
Old Backstory:
The building with the animals was warm and dry. Plus, the boy liked the animals, and they liked him. He had to flee when big people came, but that was the same everywhere. One day, a short, hairy man caught the boy asleep and beat him up.
The boy woke up in a different building, with metal around his ankle. He could still smell the animals, but also something else, something hot. The boy worked that day until he bled everywhere. He worked that day until he couldn't move to go to the bathroom. The short, hairy man beat him for going to the bathroom on himself. "Clean that up, Churm!" But then the man gave him a bowl of food. That tiny bowl was the most food the boy had ever seen before.
The boy worked everyday until he could barely crawl to his pallet, but every night, the short, hairy man gave the boy a bowl of food. "See Churm, Droskar feeds those who work hard." Years passed like this, every day filled with the same hard work, beatings and bowl of food.
Eventually, the boy learned that Churm was his name, but not that it meant "child human" in Dwarven. He learned that Droskar was not the blacksmith's name, but the name of his god. And he learned to work in the forge; but most importantly, he learned that hard work brought food, a dry bed and less beatings. Churm worked hard, and sometimes he found ways to play, too.
Churm found a loose tile in the roof, but until he learned to climb up there safely, he would fall and hurt himself. And when he couldn't explain the bruises to his master, he would take a beating for those bruises. But when Churm did make the climb safely, he could get to the stable next door. Some of the horses even remembered him, and he remembered them all.
As time passed, the dwarf spent more and more time drinking and sleeping--Churm now knew that the short, hairy man was a dwarf--giving Churm more time to spend with the animals, and even some time to watch men fight each other in front of the stable. In his play, he mimed their movements. He even learned how to avoid some of the dwarf's blows, but he also learned not to dodge too many blows, or the dwarf would use his hammer.
One day, Churm found a small piece of noqual in one of the stalls. He knew it belonged to somebody, it was very rare; but he also knew that nobody else knew he came to the stable. Churm stole the nugget of noqual, and he made a tiny dagger out of it. It was his!
That day, Churm learned that he could have things of his own. It was only a matter of time until he realized he could have a life of his own, too. On that day, he stole some weapons and armor from the dwarf, and ran far away. For a long time, he stayed away from cities, afraid of being caught. He practiced the things he had seen from the men in front of the stable. He ate the plants that didn't make him sick and the few, small animals he could catch. He became lonely. And he heard Droskar telling him to work harder.
Today, Churm decided to enter a city. He could find work in a city. And maybe he could find people to talk with him and smile at him, like the men in front of the stable did with each other.
After posting the previous links, I realized that they weren't in a good format for you. It was way too many posts, and only my side of the conversations. So, here are four exchanges with other characters. The numbers in parentheses are the recommended number of posts to read, to get a feel for the conversation.
The building with the animals was warm and dry. Plus, the boy liked the animals, and they liked him. He had to flee when big people came, but that was the same everywhere. One day, a short, hairy man caught the boy asleep and beat him up.
The boy woke up in a different building, with metal around his ankle. He could still smell the animals, but also something else, something hot. The boy worked that day until he bled everywhere. He worked that day until he couldn't move to go to the bathroom. The short, hairy man beat him for going to the bathroom on himself. "Clean that up, Churm!" But then the man gave him a bowl of food. That tiny bowl was the most food the boy had ever seen before.
The boy worked everyday until he could barely crawl to his pallet, but every night, the short, hairy man gave the boy a bowl of food. "See Churm, Droskar feeds those who work hard." Years passed like this, every day filled with the same hard work, beatings and bowl of food.
Eventually, the boy learned that Churm was his name, but not that it meant "child human" in Dwarven. He learned that Droskar was not the blacksmith's name, but the name of his god. And he learned to work in the forge; but most importantly, he learned that hard work brought food, a dry bed and less beatings. Churm worked hard, and sometimes he found ways to play, too.
Churm found a loose tile in the roof, but until he learned to climb up there safely, he would fall and hurt himself. And when he couldn't explain the bruises to his master, he would take a beating for those bruises. But when Churm did make the climb safely, he could get to the stable next door. Some of the horses even remembered him, and he remembered them all.
As time passed, the dwarf spent more and more time drinking and sleeping--Churm now knew that the short, hairy man was a dwarf--giving Churm more time to spend with the animals, and even some time to watch men fight each other in front of the stable. In his play, he mimed their movements. He even learned how to avoid some of the dwarf's blows, but he also learned not to dodge too many blows, or the dwarf would use his hammer.
One day, Churm found a small piece of noqual in one of the stalls. He knew it belonged to somebody, it was very rare; but he also knew that nobody else knew he came to the stable. Churm stole the nugget of noqual, and he made a tiny dagger out of it. It was his!
That day, Churm learned that he could have things of his own. It was only a matter of time until he realized he could have a life of his own, too. On that day, he stole some weapons and armor from the dwarf, and ran far away. For a long time, he stayed away from cities, afraid of being caught. He practiced the things he had seen from the men in front of the stable. He ate the plants that didn't make him sick and the few, small animals he could catch. He became lonely. And he heard Droskar telling him to work harder.
Today, Churm decided to enter a city. He could find work in a city. And maybe he could find people to talk with him and smile at him, like the men in front of the stable did with each other.
Hopefully the bauble from the Skymetal Smith trait can be my object for the Attached drawback.
I'm reading through the Technology Guide, particularly crafting rules, and the availability of labs seems very important. If I'm understanding it correctly, it would require free and unlimited access to labs in order for mechanical crafting to be equivalent to magical crafting.
I'm going to assume that such open access is not the case, so mechanical crafting is not as valuable. But how big is the difference? How expensive is lab access, and how often will it be available?
Mutagen: +2 CA, +4/-2 to STR/Int or Dex/Wis or CON/cha, duration 10 minutes
Looks & Personality
Saedue is a strange elf indeed. She looks like every other elf, with long blonde hair, light blue eyes and a fair face, and of course the pointed ears. Her facial features are maybe rounder than typical for an elf.
She wears light, long sleeved white clothes to fight off the burning sun, casual shorter working clothes when she uses her alchemic skills. Raised by rich parents, she still has an eye for fine art or items of worth, and knows when to haggle, even if she doesn’t mind to pay the price if she can’t avoid it. Now that she lives in a desertic area, she misses wood and flowers, and she is known among local merchants to pay well anything in wood. She enjoys music, but doesn’t play herself.
She tends to acts on impulses, and don’t care much for long terms plans, unlike other elves. She’s logical and thoughtful when it concerns her area of expertise. She’s fascinated with humans, their culture, their history, their short lives, and can be sometimes awkward and intrusive in her conversations. She's currently in love with a human named Menkera, a young priest-to-be in Wati, but the boy doesn't even know... She spends some time in the midwife district of the town, trying to catch a glance of him.
She still has dreams of ancient times. She believes she was a human here, before, some time ago-when? Where? Who? She doesn’t know. Her obsession mirrors the passion and dedication of a gnome trying to reach his lifetime goal. She has become a scholar in linguistics and history, outside her alchemical prowess.
She speaks the local tongue of the humans without any accent, but with an old fashioned, nearly antique vocabulary which often surprise her interlocutors... Strangely, she sometimes stutters when speaking in Elf, as if it was not her native tongue.
She has no major interest in religion, except as an academical subject, but she is respectful of others. Saedue is right handed, and takes great care of her body, enjoying baths whenever possible. one of her greatest fear is to injure herself while working with her alchemical products, and so she wears long gloves, getting past her elbows, when she works. One of her rare long term project (not relative to her obsession with her supposed past life) is to find a way to create water out of nothing by alchemical ways.
One of the greatest advice her mother gave her was "Know the cost of everything, but don't let this knowledge make you forget the value of everything."
When adventuring, Saedue tries to prepare herself for anything, and her small frame suffer Under the weight of her Equipment. Having lived a few years already in the Wati's area, she knows how the days are hot, and how cold the nights can be. She wraps herself with a bandolier holding her various flasks, and engrave each flask with an elfic rune describing its effect so she can recognise them by touch alone.
Background 
Daughter of rich Elf traders,born in Chellish, Saedue grew differently than other of her race. She was always in a hurry, always restless, always afraid of getting old at an age where elves are nothing but children, and felt uneasy sometimes among the trees that shield most of her people.
Unlike most elves, she was, and still is sometimes, a deep sleeper.
She had dreams and nightmares too, dreams of a burning sun, dreams of sands under her feet, dreams of dark skinned humans speaking to her in a strange tongue that she could only understand and speak while asleep. Nightmares were about death, cone shaped stone houses, strange drawings that were words of curses, human corpses disemboweled and wrapped into shredded linen, unknown animals and beasts.
At 60 years old, Saedue was a lonely soul.
At 80, she was scarred, without knowing of what, and spent most of her time cloistered in her room, down on her bed, rolling herself into her sheets.
The coming of her first century terrified her. She spend a year speaking to no one, her body wrecked by nightmares. The priests tried their best to help her, but to no avail. They asked for foreign encenses to be burned in her room each night, hoping to soothe her fears.
Her parents used every contact they had, and spend much money, to get whatever needed. One night, a very old bottle came into Saedue’s room. Fearfully, she peeked over her sheet. Some moonlight illuminated the ancient bottle, and the strange drawings that Saedue saw so far only in her wild dreams. For the first time in years-litteraly- she rised from her bed, watched closely the container, and started taking notes.
Her parents were both baffled and happy.
Saedue took a passion in all things alchemical, without knowing why, and get an acute interest in tongues, especially the foreign and ancient tongues of the humans.
Her parents were busy with their trade, and hoped this strange interest for all things human would fade over the next few decades. From time to time, Saedue will ask for old books, ancient potery, strange jewellery…
Fourty years later, Saedue wasn’t afraid anymore: she was called. Called to a foreign land, called from an ancient past, from an ancient life. A mystery will be unveiled.
Note:
15 points build
Str 11 Dex 12 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 10 Cha 12
