 About Dirk WilderUnchanined Rogue [Phantom Thief + Sanctified Rogue] Favored Class Rogue Humanx5Unchanined Rogue [Phantom Thief + Sanctified Rogue] Favored Class Rogue Humanx8
Racial Features:
Skills: Ranks Stat Class Misc Total
Class Features:
Emissary Wasp Familiar:
Hymenoptera HP 17 BaB:6/1 40ft fly speed average Str 3, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 9, Wis 10, Cha 2 Fly +7, Stealth +22 Poison, but don't use it Gives +4 initative Alertness Improved Evasion Empathic Link Speak with Master Speak to other Giant Wasps Can Cast Guidance At will 1/day, can use the Azata domain power, good vs compulsions and grapples Traits:
Feats:
Languages:
Stuff:
Murder table:
Backstory:
The alchemist that had once lived in this shop was long dead, overrun by the hordes of the undead that thronged to the city center. At least, that's what 'Tera had reported back. Dirk had always valued Hymenoptera for her scouting prowess, but with the streets being so unsafe these days, having some eyes in the sky was almost a neccicity. Dirk moved silently through the city streets, bow drawn in case he saw something move. If it screamed instead of groaning... well he'd figure that out later. Better safe than sorry. Besides, he reasoned to himself, I haven't seen anyone alive in days. He thought back to the happy days. Well, happier anyway. Dirk's childhood had been... difficult. Never knowing his father, his mother hated almost everything about him. His eyes, his hair, even his slight slouch all reminded her of the man who had left her pregnant. Ms. Wilder had no intent on spoiling Dirk, or even providing basic needs, without rent. Growing up malnourished, Dirk was frailer and weaker than other children, traits his gaunt frame still retain. Dirk learned many skills on the streets, how to skulk, how to steal, how to find a bleeding heart. He made friends too, some of the other urchins helped him when times got rough. One girl in particular helped him learn new tricks, cons to run on the unsuspecting. They could make far more money together than they could alone, and so they'd split their profits at the end of the day, through thick and thin. Her name was Clarissa, and working with her was Dirk's one joy in life. And so the years went by, and they grew to young adults. Clarissa and Dirk talked of running away together. Now that being a waif, and begging was no longer an option, the jobs they took became riskier and riskier. Finally, a job went wrong. A merchant had more protection than they had been expecting, perhaps someone had tipped them off that the two were planning a job, regardless the outcome was the same. The last Dirk saw of Clarissa, she was being dragged off, by several burly men, and Dirk was running along rooftops with several crossbow bolts in his side. Eventually, he collapsed due to bloodloss in an alleyway. When he came to, he was in a Church. The temple of Calistria saw promise in Dirk. They saw a lust for vengeance in him, against his mother, his father, and the men who took Clarissa away from him. More than promise however, they saw opportunity. A sneak thief, associated with their temple, could prove quite useful. Relics need stealing, dissent sown, threatening letters delivered to head government officials without any way for them to have gotten there. Dirk was a potential treasure trove of uses, and so they nursed him back to health. They were delighted to find that he was an apt pupil as well. He took to learning many higher sciences quickly, making a study of magicraft, and planar knowledge. They also taught him medicine, so that he might better be able to bandage his own wounds. These tricks and more he picked up on, learning to emulate some of Calistria's god given gifts, such as channeling healing energies and even eventually being blessed with a giant wasp to aid him in his church quests. Perhaps his crowning achievement was stealing a magical item from a mage that let him overcome his childhood frailty, and carry heavy objects. Or perhaps when he went back to that merchant who had caught him and Clarissa, and cleaned him out. He made a good haul off of that, although he had kept the mithril armor that was meant for some government bigwig's son. Throughout his work, Dirk sought to find out what happened to Clarissa. Had she been arrested? Smuggled? Executed? Calistria was his goddess, but Clarissa was his driving force. That and him building up his courage to confront his mother. Then the plague started. Dirk had been out on a mission when it truly began. On further reflection, he might have been lucky, very few of the priests in that temple had been blessed with positive energies, and it was probably quickly overrun. Poor sods, he thought. They were good to me, even if they weren't the nicest folk in the world. Still, they all probably had it coming. He had spent a few days on rooftops, him and 'Tera watching the carnage unfold, and eating pigeons and rats to survive. It was just like living on the street again, but with more screaming. Suffering didn't bother him so much, but the noise? Unconscionable. At least that's what he told himself. Dirk had never done an assassination mission before, or even killed anyone. That he knew of anyway. And watching children be torn to pieces by their parents roused that old feeling of helplessness that he hated so much. He was going to have to do something and make these creatures pay for what they had done to his city. Noting that the bitten tended to rise as zombies themselves, he determined it was probably an illness of some kind. This frightened him immensely because he had always been prone to illness as a child. He resolved to break into an alchemist's shop and find some- What was that noise? Dirk cursed himself as he ducked into the alleyway. He had let himself get distracted. And the slow shambling that was coming his way could only be one thing. A zombie. And where was 'Tera? Why hadn't she let him know that a zombie was coming? From around the corner came a kid. The festering bite mark on his arm told Dirk all he needed to know. He wasn't a zombie yet, but he would be soon. He drew his bow, and prepared to fire. A tense second passed. Then another. Finally he cursed, and unknocked his arrow.
Unchanined Rogue [Phantom Thief + Sanctified Rogue] Favored Class Rogue Humanx5Unchanined Rogue [Phantom Thief + Sanctified Rogue] Favored Class Rogue Humanx6
Racial Features:
Skills: Ranks Stat Class Misc Total
Class Features:
Emissary Wasp Familiar:
Hymenoptera HP 13 BaB:3 40ft fly speed average Str 3, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 8, Wis 10, Cha 2 Fly +7, Stealth +15 Poison, but don't use it Gives +4 imitative Alertness Improved Evasion Empathic Link Speak with Master Can Cast Guidance At will 1/day, can use the Azata domain power, good vs compulsions and grapples Traits:
Feats:
Stuff:
Murder table:
Backstory:
The alchemist that had once lived in this shop was long dead, overrun by the hordes of the undead that thronged to the city center. At least, that's what 'Tera had reported back. Dirk had always valued Hymenoptera for her scouting prowess, but with the streets being so unsafe these days, having some eyes in the sky was almost a neccicity. Dirk moved silently through the city streets, bow drawn in case he saw something move. If it screamed instead of groaning... well he'd figure that out later. Better safe than sorry. Besides, he reasoned to himself, I haven't seen anyone alive in days. He thought back to the happy days. Well, happier anyway. Dirk's childhood had been... difficult. Never knowing his father, his mother hated almost everything about him. His eyes, his hair, even his slight slouch all reminded her of the man who had left her pregnant. Ms. Wilder had no intent on spoiling Dirk, or even providing basic needs, without rent. Growing up malnourished, Dirk was frailer and weaker than other children, traits his gaunt frame still retain. Dirk learned many skills on the streets, how to skulk, how to steal, how to find a bleeding heart. He made friends too, some of the other urchins helped him when times got rough. One girl in particular helped him learn new tricks, cons to run on the unsuspecting. They could make far more money together than they could alone, and so they'd split their profits at the end of the day, through thick and thin. Her name was Clarissa, and working with her was Dirk's one joy in life. And so the years went by, and they grew to young adults. Clarissa and Dirk talked of running away together. Now that being a waif, and begging was no longer an option, the jobs they took became riskier and riskier. Finally, a job went wrong. A merchant had more protection than they had been expecting, perhaps someone had tipped them off that the two were planning a job, regardless the outcome was the same. The last Dirk saw of Clarissa, she was being dragged off, by several burly men, and Dirk was running along rooftops with several crossbow bolts in his side. Eventually, he collapsed due to bloodloss in an alleyway. When he came to, he was in a Church. The temple of Calistria saw promise in Dirk. They saw a lust for vengeance in him, against his mother, his father, and the men who took Clarissa away from him. More than promise however, they saw opportunity. A sneak thief, associated with their temple, could prove quite useful. Relics need stealing, dissent sown, threatening letters delivered to head government officials without any way for them to have gotten there. Dirk was a potential treasure trove of uses, and so they nursed him back to health. They were delighted to find that he was an apt pupil as well. He took to learning many higher sciences quickly, making a study of magicraft, and planar knowledge. They also taught him medicine, so that he might better be able to bandage his own wounds. These tricks and more he picked up on, learning to emulate some of Calistria's god given gifts, such as channeling healing energies and even eventually being blessed with a giant wasp to aid him in his church quests. Perhaps his crowning achievement was stealing a magical item from a mage that let him overcome his childhood frailty, and carry heavy objects. Or perhaps when he went back to that merchant who had caught him and Clarissa, and cleaned him out. He made a good haul off of that, although he had kept the mithril armor that was meant for some government bigwig's son. Throughout his work, Dirk sought to find out what happened to Clarissa. Had she been arrested? Smuggled? Executed? Calistria was his goddess, but Clarissa was his driving force. That and him building up his courage to confront his mother. Then the plague started. Dirk had been out on a mission when it truly began. On further reflection, he might have been lucky, very few of the priests in that temple had been blessed with positive energies, and it was probably quickly overrun. Poor sods, he thought. They were good to me, even if they weren't the nicest folk in the world. Still, they all probably had it coming. He had spent a few days on rooftops, him and 'Tera watching the carnage unfold, and eating pigeons and rats to survive. It was just like living on the street again, but with more screaming. Suffering didn't bother him so much, but the noise? Unconscionable. At least that's what he told himself. Dirk had never done an assassination mission before, or even killed anyone. That he knew of anyway. And watching children be torn to pieces by their parents roused that old feeling of helplessness that he hated so much. He was going to have to do something and make these creatures pay for what they had done to his city. Noting that the bitten tended to rise as zombies themselves, he determined it was probably an illness of some kind. This frightened him immensely because he had always been prone to illness as a child. He resolved to break into an alchemist's shop and find some- What was that noise? Dirk cursed himself as he ducked into the alleyway. He had let himself get distracted. And the slow shambling that was coming his way could only be one thing. A zombie. And where was 'Tera? Why hadn't she let him know that a zombie was coming? From around the corner came a kid. The festering bite mark on his arm told Dirk all he needed to know. He wasn't a zombie yet, but he would be soon. He drew his bow, and prepared to fire. A tense second passed. Then another. Finally he cursed, and unknocked his arrow.
Dirk Wilder CN
Racial Features:
Skills: Ranks Stat Class Misc Total
Class Features:
Emissary Wasp Familiar:
Hymenoptera HP 12 BaB:3 40ft fly speed average Str 3, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 8, Wis 10, Cha 2 Fly +7, Stealth +15 Poison, but don't use it Gives +4 imitative Alertness Improved Evasion Empathic Link Speak with Master Can Cast Guidance At will 1/day, can use the Azata domain power, good vs compulsions and grapples Traits:
Feats:
Stuff:
Murder table:
[s]Future:
Backstory:
The alchemist that had once lived in this shop was long dead, overrun by the hordes of the undead that thronged to the city center. At least, that's what 'Tera had reported back. Dirk had always valued Hymenoptera for her scouting prowess, but with the streets being so unsafe these days, having some eyes in the sky was almost a neccicity. Dirk moved silently through the city streets, bow drawn in case he saw something move. If it screamed instead of groaning... well he'd figure that out later. Better safe than sorry. Besides, he reasoned to himself, I haven't seen anyone alive in days. He thought back to the happy days. Well, happier anyway. Dirk's childhood had been... difficult. Never knowing his father, his mother hated almost everything about him. His eyes, his hair, even his slight slouch all reminded her of the man who had left her pregnant. Ms. Wilder had no intent on spoiling Dirk, or even providing basic needs, without rent. Growing up malnourished, Dirk was frailer and weaker than other children, traits his gaunt frame still retain. Dirk learned many skills on the streets, how to skulk, how to steal, how to find a bleeding heart. He made friends too, some of the other urchins helped him when times got rough. One girl in particular helped him learn new tricks, cons to run on the unsuspecting. They could make far more money together than they could alone, and so they'd split their profits at the end of the day, through thick and thin. Her name was Clarissa, and working with her was Dirk's one joy in life. And so the years went by, and they grew to young adults. Clarissa and Dirk talked of running away together. Now that being a waif, and begging was no longer an option, the jobs they took became riskier and riskier. Finally, a job went wrong. A merchant had more protection than they had been expecting, perhaps someone had tipped them off that the two were planning a job, regardless the outcome was the same. The last Dirk saw of Clarissa, she was being dragged off, by several burly men, and Dirk was running along rooftops with several crossbow bolts in his side. Eventually, he collapsed due to bloodloss in an alleyway. When he came to, he was in a Church. The temple of Calistria saw promise in Dirk. They saw a lust for vengeance in him, against his mother, his father, and the men who took Clarissa away from him. More than promise however, they saw opportunity. A sneak thief, associated with their temple, could prove quite useful. Relics need stealing, dissent sown, threatening letters delivered to head government officials without any way for them to have gotten there. Dirk was a potential treasure trove of uses, and so they nursed him back to health. They were delighted to find that he was an apt pupil as well. He took to learning many higher sciences quickly, making a study of magicraft, and planar knowledge. They also taught him medicine, so that he might better be able to bandage his own wounds. These tricks and more he picked up on, learning to emulate some of Calistria's god given gifts, such as channeling healing energies and even eventually being blessed with a giant wasp to aid him in his church quests. Perhaps his crowning achievement was stealing a magical item from a mage that let him overcome his childhood frailty, and carry heavy objects. Or perhaps when he went back to that merchant who had caught him and Clarissa, and cleaned him out. He made a good haul off of that, although he had kept the mithril armor that was meant for some government bigwig's son. Throughout his work, Dirk sought to find out what happened to Clarissa. Had she been arrested? Smuggled? Executed? Calistria was his goddess, but Clarissa was his driving force. That and him building up his courage to confront his mother. Then the plague started. Dirk had been out on a mission when it truly began. On further reflection, he might have been lucky, very few of the priests in that temple had been blessed with positive energies, and it was probably quickly overrun. Poor sods, he thought. They were good to me, even if they weren't the nicest folk in the world. Still, they all probably had it coming. He had spent a few days on rooftops, him and 'Tera watching the carnage unfold, and eating pigeons and rats to survive. It was just like living on the street again, but with more screaming. Suffering didn't bother him so much, but the noise? Unconscionable. At least that's what he told himself. Dirk had never done an assassination mission before, or even killed anyone. That he knew of anyway. And watching children be torn to pieces by their parents roused that old feeling of helplessness that he hated so much. He was going to have to do something and make these creatures pay for what they had done to his city. Noting that the bitten tended to rise as zombies themselves, he determined it was probably an illness of some kind. This frightened him immensely because he had always been prone to illness as a child. He resolved to break into an alchemist's shop and find some- What was that noise? Dirk cursed himself as he ducked into the alleyway. He had let himself get distracted. And the slow shambling that was coming his way could only be one thing. A zombie. And where was 'Tera? Why hadn't she let him know that a zombie was coming? From around the corner came a kid. The festering bite mark on his arm told Dirk all he needed to know. He wasn't a zombie yet, but he would be soon. He drew his bow, and prepared to fire. A tense second passed. Then another. Finally he cursed, and unknocked his arrow.
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