About Ellion Hesoni
Defenses + Offenses:
Energy Armor Class 26 (+12 armor, +4 Dex)
Kinetic Armor Class 27 (+13 armor, +4 Dex)
Hit Points 64/64 (4 + 6/level)
Fortitude +5, Reflex +7, Will +14 (+2 vs. enchants)
BAB = 7
Speed 30 feet, 20' fly in space/vacuum
Str 10, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 24, Cha 11
Skills: 9 per level = (6 mystic + 3 INT)
Languages: (A lot. And then the basic profanities in at least fifteen more.)
Class Features (Mystic):
HEALING TOUCH (SU) 1ST LEVEL
Once per day, you can spend 10 minutes to magically heal an ally up to 5 Hit Points per mystic level.
CHANNEL SKILL (SU) 2ND LEVEL
MINDLINK (SP) 2ND LEVEL
WEAPON SPECIALIZATION (EX) 3RD LEVEL
Walk the Void (Su) 1st Level
Starlight Form (Su) 3rd Level
Stargazer (Su) 6th Level
Starflight (Su) 9th Level
Theme Features (Priest):
You are a member of an organized religion or similar association. Your belief, whether it has been a part of you since childhood or it came to you later in life, is an integral part of your character. You might travel the stars proselytizing your deity, or your church might have sent you out on a specific holy (or unholy) mission. No matter what obstacles life puts in your way, you always have the conviction of your beliefs to fall back on.
Theme Knowledge (1ST)
Choose a deity or a philosophy whose alignment is within one step (on either the good-evil axis or the law-chaos axis) of your own. Reduce the DC of Culture and Mysticism checks to recall knowledge about religious traditions, religious symbols, and famous religious leaders by 5. Mysticism becomes a class skill for you, though if it’s a class skill from the class you take at 1st level, you instead gain a +1 bonus to Mysticism checks. In addition, you gain an ability adjustment of +1 to Wisdom at character creation.
Mantle of the Clergy (6th)
You have reached a rank of authority in your religion. Typical lay followers of your religion have a starting attitude of helpful toward you and will often provide you with simple assistance on request due to some combination of adoration, respect, or fear (depending on your religion), and even other clergy must give your opinions due consideration in matters of disagreement. You gain a +2 bonus to Diplomacy and Intimidate checks against lay followers and lower-ranking clergy.
Spells Known (castable per day):
0th (∞): Detect Affliction, Detect Magic, Ghost Sound, Psychokinetic Hand, Stabilize, Token Spell
Magic Crystal Mk1, Dexterity - 1,500
Magic Crystal Mk2, Wisdom - 6,500
Clear Spindle - 245
Iridescent Spindle - 740
Staff of Mystic Healing - 3,700
Corona Laser Pistol - 4,270
Freebooter III - 16,900
His race preserving a youthful enough appearance, Ellion has features not typical for elvenkind - tall ears, long hair, a frame eschewing width. His eyes though physically sound have a gaze that transcends time, seeming to bore into one's very essence with a bit of focus. There is definition in his body, though it is from lack of excess to cover it (or clothes) rather than bodybuilding.
His weirding potency allows the doctor to exist in some rather inhospitable environments without sustaining chronic damage to his form. Thus, he sees little need for clothes beyond what he considers to be fashionable at the time. Given his early age of upbringing, these are often archaic, simple, and sometimes skimpy garments. He finds the mantle of starship uniform and clergy cossack both oppressive in their own way.
Much to the discomfort of the shuttle pilot, Ellion stood in his usual near-naked state staring into the reaches of Golarion. The scientist’s thoughts were not about arriving at his destination, but rather the step closer to his goal the transit achieved him. If it’s still possible.
“We’re approaching the port, Mr. Hesoni.”
“Doctor”, reminded the reflective elf. Port. A port was a place where ships docked. Nowadays, that meant airtight vessels with rockets or the like, electronics and automated processes aplenty. To Ellion, it also meant something quite different.
On Golarion, his homeworld, Ellion had been born in the first era. The events of this time were but footnotes in all but the most extensive historical annals now, but to him, they were his youth. He remembered his first canoe, the birch hull and oak oar providing him with plenty safe passages across rivers and lakes. He remembered the port of Greengold, where he sold his daily catch for a profit each evening. He remembered opening his remedy shop, the start of his pursuit of the yet-unnamed field of science. Though millennia old, the memories coursed with lightning speed through his unparalleled mind. They were as clear as images on the ship’s high resolution displays, yet with the inimitable warmth of sentimentality.
A sharp turn by the pilot was too much for the modest gravity stabilizers on the craft to handle, and the barefooted standing man leaned to counter it.
“Is this your first go in this ship, boy?” The tone was likely mistaken as chastisement, though Hesoni meant it out of curiosity.
“I’ve only been at this shuttle a few days, sir. It’s my first assignment.”
Such a short time, even for him.
As a fisherman in his youth, Ellion noticed patterns with the behaviors of the fish. He studied their movements, noticing how the differing types – later called species – would interact with their environment. His astute observations led him to better predict where the best catches could be had.
The wizards were not used to failure in such affairs. They divined the magical potential of a subject before committing to him or her, and instruction was given with the implicit understanding service would be rendered to the monarch upon completion – indentured servitude by etiquette. The positions were honors to hold, and though some candidates developed better than others, all were capable of spellcraft. Except Ellion – at least in the ways the mages saw as capable.
Ellion was exceptionally bright, but he did not care to apply his mind to the particular outcomes the instructors had intoned. Instead, he dreamt about how the substances of the world interacted with the nature of magic. In his downtime, he experimented with various combinations of substances and spellspawn, determining a link between matter and magic. The basics of this were obviously known to his instructors as they knew what components were necessary to cast spells, but apparently they’d never investigated why those particular materials were required. When time came for his seasonal review, Ellion’s teachers were expecting a show of fire and force, not a scroll detailing the use of seasonal pinecones in white necromancy. Choosing to cut their losses, they cut young Ellion from the program. However, they’d already given the boy the catalyst he needed excel.
On the vessel, the pilot shot a glance at the elf. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Surely not. My nipples haven’t even hardened!” Ellion knew the doublespeak that came with the statement, but he wanted a bit of amusement. The youth swallowed and turned his head back to the dash. He’s blushing. Ellion grinned.
In truth, Ellion should have been cold. Adjusting his metabolism slightly nullified the discomfort though. It turned-out, through study of various substances in what would later be known as the pursuit of alchemy, Ellion’s interests lay even more biologically-centered than most alchemists. He became an expert of anatomy, using his funds from fishing to open a store for potions and poultices which ensued feedback used to improve his skill. Though he did not “cast” magic, he did use the innate magical power within himself – common for his kind – to imbue his elixirs with an extra boost of energy. The port came to hail him as a healer and civil hero. The local nobility didn’t care for this dilution of reliance on their wealth and power though, and accused him of “heresy”, martialing forces to execute him.
Though the despots’ plan was harsh, it was predictable, and Ellion had planned an exit strategy. He had a close friend dig a small chamber under his house for Ellion to lay. The entrepreneur had been experimenting with a new form of body alteration, one which would essentially stop all metabolic processes – breathing, consciousness, heartbeat, etc. He would be defenseless during this time, but he would have no maintenance. The military scoured the town for a week, checking in every conceivable location. The town resented this treatment though, and they rose up to overthrow their ruler. In the process, however, Ellion’s friend, Dalenane, was slain.
Unfortunately, Ellion was not skilled with this technique at the time he used it in this incident, and as a result, the only trigger for his revival was a splash of water across his face. Generations later, another family inhabiting the house happened to find his body while replacing the floorboards. As was custom, they attempted to dispose of his body by throwing it into the lake. The floundering mess of a “resurrection” caught the attention of the entire city. While the archers were ready to put down the “undead”, Ellion noticed a business running where his used to be on the waterfront – and people were leaving it with some of the telltale pink potions he’d made in years past.
My work lived on?
There was precisely one way Ellion’s studies could have borne fruit in this manner, and he requested the guards one chance to prove his identity: If the formulae book’s text the shopkeeper had used matched his handwriting, he was to be set free; otherwise, to death. Of course, he was right; Dalenane had preserved the fundamentals of alchemy which Ellion had written centuries prior. He made a deal with the owner to teach him in return for his shop, which the owner accepted; after all, he could well start his own elsewhere.
Hailed as a sort of demi-god, Ellion spent years trying to lead a life of his own, but he no longer seemed to fit-in with society. His fame and other-era genesis made him unable to connect on an intimate level easily. As a result, he had few friends and no lasting romantic relationships. The blessing of life he wrought for himself had turned-out to be a curse long in the tooth and slow in the bite. Not wishing to spread that devastating long-term disability, he kept the information for those particular paths of research to himself. In his depression, he eventually sealed himself off from society, telling them he was going into a “deep sleep” once more, and he was only to be awoken in time of great need or peril. The immensely wealthy associate who’d profited a hundred-fold off Ellion’s knowledge agreed to appoint a curator for the soon-to-be hibernating Hesoni, and the two selected an individual to check for vermin or thieves in his shop once in a blue moon. The town’s respect was so great for him, though, thieves were no concern though. Quite the opposite, the town built a temple around the sleeping scientist, and he was not called upon for many years.
Each time he was awoken every generation or so for the same reason: Rulers sought knowledge of some import for a war they were fighting. Ellion felt used as a pawn often, and he was amusingly summoned by one king and then his evidently-victorious opponent months later. His knowledge was not that of battles, but of bottles. Each time, he would provide his counsel, take in the changes of society since his last consciousness, and then return to his slumber. This pattern continued for millennia – until spacefaring began. For me, at least.
He awoke floating in a sea of blackness dotted by stars, his formulae book in his hands his only possession. A sterile cold reminded him there was a severe temperature difference in … wherever he was, yet his weightlessness made him feel as if he were in a dream. Recognizing the larger planets he could see, Ellion surmised before too long he was in a place where Golarion should have been, yet it was nowhere to be found. Instead, the nearest item of note seemed to be a large, metallic building in the stars. He urged himself to swim to it. Hunger began to strike him though, the distance remaining beyond what he could reach before he starved. The elf knew this situation was no dream now and sought to preserve himself by entering his state of stasis once again. However, he couldn’t. Panic set in. Then resignation.
As he stayed in space for what had to have been days, he lost weight. Ribs visible through his flesh, the ancient alchemist awaited the afterlife as calmly as once could while succumbing to famine. It was then a point of light began approaching his position, far closer than any star. Closer and closer it came, and after a mere few hours, he could see some sort of vessel was attached to it, blotting out stars as its enlarging silhouette passed in front of them. It seemed the craft would have passed by him, yet when all his hopes seemed to be dashed, its course changed. Diverting toward him, a bay was opened, and sailors with heavily-modified firearms awaited him.
They filled Ellion out on the Gap. Apparently, he was foundnear the space Golarion would have been had it still existed. He later found-out a human lieutenant by the name of Mark Nallas had been paying the keen attention to the bioscans that revealed his presence. More than stealing him from the jaws of death, Mark had stolen into a spot as Ellion’s confidant. The displaced drifter recounted his story to the man, and he returned to what he learned was Absalom Station to much acclaim from the few who knew of him. His story had become something of a mythic footnote over the years.
Marveling at the development of technology, Ellion stayed in the makeshift ark of refugees, learning what he could of the advancements in now-commonplace science. The acceleration of learning was breathtaking, but Ellion possessed the acuity needed to wrangle with the plethora of changes. He took the time to do things as people of that day did, spending time in lectures with the professors to be considered a doctor. His field, naturally, was biology. Dr. Hesoni looked back into his old formulae book, preserved via magic as it was considered a holy text. Joining with his colleagues, Ellion helped to expand the knowledge base as best he could, though he had more historical and cultural insights than medicinal ones now.
With the advent of robots, the elves had assigned one to help him acclimate to life in the modern day, but Ellion made a special request for Lieutenant Nallas. It normally wouldn’t have been an approved assignment, but Ellion noted Mark was to be sent to Bretheda, and someone with an extensive history of experience in biology would be perfect to bring along and study the mercurial Brethedans. The pair bonded quickly during their time together there.
Though somewhat analogous to a warrant officer, Ellion quickly proved his value with deciphering anomalies. It was during one of these attempts he heard a shipmate utter a prayer to Ibra. Having not heard of this god before, he was treated to an earful. Yet it wasn’t until the man produced an amulet with the god’s symbol on it that Ellion was truly struck; the scene – sans constellation – was exactly what he saw before the craft detoured to rescue him. After hearing about the portfolio, it seemed aligned to what his job now was. The doctor had no interest in joining a church though. However, this didn’t deter those who heard of the serendipity of his rescue’s symbolism from hailing him as a conduit for discovery.
A demigod again. How many times must I nearly die before they understand it isn’t so?
Regardless, he felt he had purpose again, connected to a pursuit from his original “life”. Helpful as the day-to-day work was for facilitating daily going-ons, it did not dispel his one-of-a-kind loneliness. The length of time that spanned between now and his original time on Golarion was staggering, but Ellion felt the need to have some longer-term goal to keep away the loneliness. Maybe it wouldn’t be completed for centuries, but he would have a goal, a life’s work. He settled on deciphering why Golarion disappeared in the first place. What caused the Gap?
As the man adjusted the controls, Ellion noticed a ring on his finger.
“You are married?”
“Engaged! My fiancé and I are getting married in a month. It’s going to be a great time – all of my friends, family, and my favorite musicians will be there. We’re heading to a little resort moon, and –“ the youth noticed he’d said something to upset the elf.
Not upset. Saddened. The pilot’s experience was one the alchemist would never have. No matter his life was now reduced a similar scope of time as others – society had changed so much, he couldn’t hope to connect in a deep, intimate way with his past experiences. Even Mark, conscientious as he was, could not assuage the nostalgia and wistfulness of the venerable Ellion. For as much education as he’d obtained, he did not have a stoic face to hold back his sorrow.
“Sorry, sir. We’re docking in a moment…”