@GM: Oh I'm quite sure the thieves tools would be more useful, but I'm okay with that. Whether or not the party will be okay with it is something to be determined later :P
Regarding discovery: I do intend for that to happen at some point. Either her gender will come out due to an injury, (a la Mulan), or a situation will come up where she needs to tell them.
(If the opportunity to dramatically say "I am no man!" comes up I will take it.)
Presenting Brigg/Bergur for consideration.
Outline of Mechanics/character choices:
Class: Treasure Hunter (Agent Archetype)
Cultural Virtue: Woeful Foresight
Background: Doomed to Die
Distinctive Quality: Swift. Your foreboding of your fate has made you more alert. Even when danger sneaks up on you, it rarely finds you unprepared.
Specialty: Fire-making. The roads towards your fate can be long. You are adept at making fires and preparing camps.
Hope: Though it shall end with my death, I shall push forward because I am the only one who can.
Despair: I fear that I will die alone and unremembered.
Brigg doesn’t remember her parents. Her earliest memories are of wandering the streets of Lake-town, just another street urchin trying to survive. She primarily ‘earned’ her living by picking pockets and fleeing before she could be caught.
One day she was picking the pocket of an unassuming-looking innkeeper when suddenly he grabbed her wrist. That had happened before and Brigg wasn’t too worried. It wasn’t easy to hang onto a struggling, screaming child. If he did somehow manage to hang on, she could fix that by cutting him with the stolen dagger hidden in her clothes. She would make her escape long before he made it to a guard.
To her surprise, instead of dragging her off immediately, he looked in her in the eyes for a long moment and then let go of her wrist. ”I’ve got stew cooking, if you’re hungry.”
She blinked. That wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
”My name is Ragni. I run the inn over there.” He nodded in the direction of a modest-looking establishment. "Come by anytime and I’ll get you some food.”
Brigg was suspicious of course, but she was hungry, and the prospect of a free meal was too tempting to resist. She followed a few paces behind the man as he headed to the inn. He invited her inside, served her a bowl of stew, then sat down by the fire and started smoking.
Brigg ate quickly, her eyes never leaving the man by the fire. (Nor did one hand ever leave the hilt of her dagger.) If her wariness bothered him, he didn’t show it. He simply sat there, smoking his pipe and seemingly ignoring her. As soon as every drop of the stew had been eaten, Brigg scampered off into the night.
A few days later she met Ragni again, and he once more invited her in for a meal. She was slightly less wary this time, but only slightly. She quickly ate and then left without a word of thanks.
As time passed and Ragni continued to offer food while asking for nothing in exchange, Brigg slowly began to trust him. She stayed a little longer after each meal, enjoying the warmth of the fire. As winter fell, she began staying the night. Somewhere along the way Ragni’s inn became ‘home.’ And in the back of her mind, though she never used the word, Ragni himself became ‘father.’
(She asked him once why her, out of all the urchins in the street. He shrugged, and all he would say was ”Your eyes were different.”)
They had been living together for six years when the dragon attacked. Ragni and Brigg joined the countless people trying to douse the flames, but their efforts were in vain. What little of Lake-town didn’t burn was crushed underneath the weight of Smaug’s body when he fell. From the shore, Brigg could do nothing but stare at the charred remains of the only home she’d ever known.
Shortly after Smaug’s death, Bard called for all able-bodied men to unite and retrieve the unguarded treasure from the Lonely Mountain. Although not a warrior by any means, Ragni announced his decision to join the growing army. Brigg begged Ragni to reconsider. ”Something terrible is going to happen. There’s a shadow over you, I feel it.”
He crouched down slightly to look her in the eyes. ”I know you’re worried. But the dragon is dead. There’s nothing to fear.” He smiled at her. ”I’ll be back before you know it, with more than enough gold for us to rebuild the inn.”
Despite his reassurances, Brigg’s foreboding was too powerful for her to ignore. If she couldn’t convince Ragni not to go, then she would simply have to go with him. She cut her hair and presented herself to the army as Bergur, a young boy looking to serve as an aide. It was her hope that she would be able to protect Ragni from whatever catastrophe was coming.
The Battle of Five Armies, as it would come to be known, was utter chaos. Brigg desperately dashed through the battle, taking advantage of her small size and speed to avoid being cut down. She needed to find Ragni. Eventually she broke through a small cluster of soldiers and saw the innkeeper only a few yards away, being attacked by a goblin warrior. ”Father!”
Did her scream distract him at a critical moment? Did her presence cause the very disaster she had been trying to prevent? Brigg would never know.
She doesn’t remember the rest of the battle. She remembers seeing Ragni fall, a sword through his chest. She remembers being guided away by soldiers who had been looking for survivors among the dead. Everything between is lost, and perhaps that is a small mercy.
Brigg stayed with the army. Orphaned for a second time, she didn’t know what else to do. By day Bergur trained with the soldiers. By night Brigg obsessed over the Battle of Five Armies, reading every report or book she could get her hands on. (Lawfully or otherwise.) She sought to answer one simple question: How had things gone so wrong?
Information, she eventually concluded. More specifically, the lack of it. When the army left the remnants of Lake-town behind, they had been expecting to simply retrieve the treasure and return. They hadn’t known that the dwarves still lived, that they had requested aid from their kin, that the goblins and wargs and orcs were coming as well. The two armies hadn’t known that three others were on their way. They hadn’t been prepared. And people like her father had died for it.
She would make sure that never happened again.
Bergur was trained as a scout. Brigg honed other skills. She snuck into conferences she wasn’t supposed to attend, just to make sure she could. She practiced forging documents, tweaking her handwriting each time until it matched that of the person she was trying to copy. She created new identities for herself, experimenting with how far some dye and a few cosmetics could take her. A man who wouldn’t give Bergur a second glance would share all sorts of information with Selma. A woman who’d sniff dismissively at Selma would happily talk to Ruben. ‘Brigg’ was a name that had died along with Ragni.
She knows that the life of a spy will be a short one. That she will most likely die alone, cursed for her duplicity by the very people she hopes to save. She tells herself that doesn’t bother her. That if the information she discovers saves even one life, then it will all be worth it.
(She’s as good at lying to herself as she is to everyone else.)
Now 19, Bergur has officially finished his first term of service. He’s decent with a sword, and better with a bow. He knows how to find a good campsite, how to search for signs of the Enemy’s presence, how to march for hours without exhausting himself. When King Bard announces that he wants people to begin reclaiming the North, Bergur is among the first to volunteer.
Brigg’s training is over. It’s time for her to get to work.
Bergur is an androgynous-looking young man in his late teens. He’s rather short for a man of Dale, standing only 5’5”, but being small and swift just makes him a better scout. He keeps his light brown hair cut short. He favors dark greens and grays for his clothing, and is rarely seen without his leather armor.
He’ll joke and laugh with his fellow soldiers, but there’s always a hint of sadness in his eyes. It’s well-known that his father died during the Battle of Five Armies and that he had no other living family. Almost everyone lost someone that day, and so people understand why he’s reluctant to grow too close to anyone. Those who go drinking with him find that he almost never has more than one ale and never gets drunk. (Which has actually made him a popular drinking companion, as he can be counted upon to be sober enough to make sure everyone gets back safely at the end of the night.) He has many acquaintances but no real friends.
No one was surprised when he announced his intention to go North. With nothing really tying him to Dale, it only makes sense for him to seek out a home elsewhere.
Question: the Treasure Hunter gets proficiency with thieves tools at level 1, and the Agent archetype gets proficiency with a disguise kit at level 3. Would it be possible to switch those? I feel like the disguise kit makes more sense for her character early on.
Isn't it just the standard arcane/martial/divine/skills divide? or is this a joke that flew over my head?
Ah, see that’s what you think at first. But something doesn’t seem quite right, so you take a closer look. Then you start asking questions like “Why is the Oracle listed with the skills characters?”
The next thing you know you’ve driven yourself insane trying to understand a pattern that is almost familiar and yet completely unpredictable.
Submitting an application for Yelena Stanescu, psychic. The full crunch (minus equipment, which I'll worry about if I get selected)can be found in the profile. Also, fair warning, I am apparently incapable of writing short backgrounds. The tl;dr version is "Varisian fortune-teller gets visions (possibly) from Desna that end up sending her to Carrion Hill."
My gaming history is fairly short. I started my first-ever D&D game about a year ago and immediately fell in love. Meeting once a month or so wasn't cutting it, so a little over six months ago I joined the Paizo forums and got into PBP. That being said, I have been (and still am) active in a lot of games here, so there's plenty of posting history to check out.
My time zone is EST. I work in a library and have a fair amount of free time, so I do most of my posting at work. Typically I post in the morning, then check in periodically throughout the day. I'm less likely to post in the evening, and weekends vary depending on what plans I've got going on. I do still usually get in at least one post a day on the weekends.
Why Carrion Hill? Because I love Lovecraftian stories. I was playing Eldritch/Arkham Horror long before I got into roleplaying. I also prefer character-driven games, so I'm really interested to see what everyone brings to the table.
Some examples of my posting style:
This post is from a Strange Aeons game which has since ended up with a new GM. The entire intro sequence was a blast, and I love my cynical true neutral character.
I use the preview option liberally so I can appropriately flavor the roleplay around dice rolls. This post is a good example of how I roleplay a failed check.
It requires a bit more context, but on this page me and another character did some bonding over similar tragedies in our backstories. If you don't mind a lot of reading, it's a good example of how I interact with other PCs.
If you have any questions or want more examples, please let me know. I'm happy to provide.
Yelena is a psychic with the Esoteric Starseeker archetype. Said archetype slows down some of the psychic's regular class features, (namely phrenic amplifications), in exchange for some assistance with every spontaneous caster's biggest problem, versatility. Depending on which constellation she studies each night, she gets access to a different set of spells.
Her in-combat role will depend at least partly on the party composition. Right now she's a jack-of-all-trades, but I'll probably do some spell-swapping before we start. For example, if we have a lot of big beefy fighters, I'll drop some of the damage-dealing spells and focus more on buffing. The Faith discipline grants her access to a couple of cure spells per day so she can also be a backup healer.
Like many Varisians, Yelena was born on the open road. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father was...well, when she was young her grandmother tactfully said he was ‘away.’ As she grew older she learned the truth; that she was the product of a short-lived affair her mother had with a minor noble from Magnimar. ”I told Imani not to get involved with him. That no good ever came of messing with a married man, or a noble, and that both was asking for disaster. She never would listen to me.” Tereza sighed, then smiled as she gently stroked Yelena’s hair. ”I was wrong though. One good thing came of it, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” Yelena listened to the tale with wide eyes, but she knew any dreams of traveling back to Magnimar and having her father accept her were just that, dreams. Besides, who would ever want to live in a city when there was the whole of Golarion to explore?
Tereza worked as a fortune-teller in various caravans, going wherever the North Star took her. Yelena trotted along behind, helping out in whatever small ways a child could. Her free time she spent in the fortune-teller’s wagon, eagerly absorbing whatever lessons Tereza felt she should learn that day. But one of her favorite things to do was to watch as Tereza laid out the Harrow cards. ”See here Yelena? The Eclipse. Normally it would represent a loss of purpose, but do you see where it is in the spread? It’s misaligned. That means something’s about to be discovered.”
Yelena’s quick mind took in the explanations, and she started doing readings of her own. However her first real prophecy didn’t come from the Harrow.
It came from a dream.
Blood. Fire. Death.
Yelena woke screaming. Tereza tried to comfort her, but the girl was inconsolable. ”Bună, they’re going to die! They’re all going to die!” She clung to her grandmother and sobbed while Tereza rubbed her back.
”Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”
A dream that recurred the next night, and the next. Tereza consulted the Harrow and frowned at the reading before heading to see the caravan master. ”Gavril, I think we should turn back. My reading revealed Crows, a dangerous card that represents the violent theft of what is loved. Yelena’s dreams-”
Gavril spat on the ground. ”You want us to turn back because of a child’s nightmares?”
”The Harrow agrees with her.” Tereza wasn’t a tall woman, but she nevertheless drew herself up to her full height to stare Gavril in the eyes. ”Are you going to ignore my warning?”
Few Varisian men would deny a fortune-teller’s power. Gavril wasn’t one of them. ”I’ll set extra watches.” Tereza started to protest, but Gavril held up his hand. ”I’m not denying what you’ve seen, but we can’t turn back. It's too late in the season; if we turn back now we won’t be able to leave this country before the winter snows. Extra watches are the best I can do.” Tereza’s lips tightened, but she reluctantly nodded. A caravan operated on a thin margin; being trapped for the winter and unable to trade the goods they’d just picked up would result in bankruptcy. She’d just have to pray to Desna that the precautions would be enough.
Ulfen raiders struck just before dawn. Even though they were expecting trouble, there’s only so long tired guards can remain alert. They never stood a chance.
Once more Yelena woke to the sound of screaming, but this time it wasn’t her own. Tereza’s white face appeared above her. ”Hurry child, we have to hurry!” She grabbed Yelena’s hand and ushered her out of the wagon.
The scenes from her nightmares played out once again.
Blood. Splashes of it against the wagons, red contrasting sharply with the white cloth.
Fire. One of the wagons was ablaze due to a knocked-over lantern. The raiders were cursing as they tried to put it out. Burned goods weren’t worth stealing, and there was no need for them to fight at the moment. Because…
Death. Gavril lay where he’d fallen, a fletched arrow through his throat. Talric, her favorite of the guards, the one who’d play the childish games that most of the caravan wouldn’t, lay gasping out his last. Mireli, Nandor, Marin, HenricDariusJaelle…
Tereza’s arms scooped Yelana up and turned her away. She started to run, gasping a prayer under her breath, ”Starsong, Goddess of Fortune, help us escape this place…” Behind them one of the raiders noticed the pair and began running after them.
Yelana looked up at the bright stars overhead. The Wagon twinkled in the sky, safely carrying the other constellations across the sky. Please, carry us too…
Tereza wasn’t a young woman, and she was carrying a child. She shouldn’t have been able to outrun a man in his prime. But with a sudden burst of speed, she left him far behind.
Four days later, the two of them managed to stumble into the town of Eldentre. ”A miracle,” people whispered after hearing their tale. ”They must have been guided by the North Star herself.”
They’d certainly been guided by something. Fed, clothed, and sheltered by a sympathetic tavern-owner, (”Eh, the rooms are empty this time of year anyway, you might as well use them”), Yelena finally had the time and energy to think about the strange sensation she’d had while staring up at the sky. She shyly mentioned it to Tereza, who nodded solemnly. ”The Starsong guides us all in different ways. I’ve long suspected you had the Sight, but perhaps there’s more to it than that.”
Eldentre was small, but they had a cleric. Tereza consulted with him, and together they began exploring Yelena’s strange new abilities. It was immediately obvious that whatever she was doing wasn’t anything like the magic Asbjorn knew. ”I don’t think it’s divine, but it doesn’t feel like a wizard’s power either.” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ”It’s not evil, I can tell that much. I guess I’ll teach her what I can?”
Working with Asbjorn, Yelena learned some of the limits of her new powers. She could move things just by willing them to move. She could tell what people were thinking, if she concentrated. And if she studied the night sky and asked for Desna’s favor, she was sometimes blessed with new, stranger abilities. Asbjorn never did figure out exactly what her magic was, but ultimately decided that it must be some sort of blessing from the gods.
They spent a little over a year in Eldentre before Yelena began growing restless. When she admitted as much to Tereza, the old woman simply smiled and signed up to work for another caravan. ”We’re Children of the Open Road, you and I. Servants of the North Star. We’ll never be content to stay in one place for long.”
They didn’t. They continued to go wherever the road took them. Over the next few years Yelena honed her skills with both magic and fortune-telling. As Tereza grew older, Yelena began taking over most of the duties of a Varisian fortune-teller, supplementing her Harrow readings with the prescience Desna sometimes granted her. Together the two of them continued to wander, most often as part of a caravan, but sometimes alone.
Recently Yelena has been having more bad dreams. Dreams of something stirring beneath the ground. Of foolish mortals awakening an ancient evil. Of death and destruction on a level she’d never before imagined.
Of a place known as Carrion Hill.
Competition's getting stiffer! For those still making characters, here are the campaign traits chosen so far so you know who your competition is. (At least in matters of love, I don't think Sandru cares how many guards he has.)
This only includes people who have either linked to the spreadsheet or specifically posted that they were considering a particular trait.
Lor-Sinn (Tiefling Paladin): Rescued - Koya
Baeldwyn (Human Kineticist): Caravan Guard
Ouachitonian (Elf Slayer): Childhood Crush - Shalelu
Caravan Guard: 3
Simon Lereos wrote:
Oh man, everyone likes Shalelu in this app process, huh?
So far we have one of the confirmed players, you, and Ouachitonian all hoping to woo her. That's only a quarter of the applicants :P
For those curious, here's the breakdown of campaign traits so far.
Lor-Sinn (Tiefling Paladin): Rescued - Koya
Baeldwyn (Human Kineticist): Caravan Guard
Ouachitonian (Elf Slayer): Childhood Crush - Shalelu
GM ShadowLord wrote:
Don't forget to add your character to the recruitment worksheet when you are done. This is the list I'm going to use when I review characters. I added a link to the worksheet to the top of the page
FYI, the link in the Application Process section leads to the wrong worksheet, so you should use the link at the top of the page instead. A lesson I have now learned :)
I think my submission is pretty complete. Ruka can be viewed here
The short version: Ruka Kaijitsu is Ameiko's younger sister. They're not particularly close due to bad family history, but Ruka at least wants to be. She's currently trying to reconnect with Ameiko and would like to follow her on a new adventure.
Ruka is a human slayer. In combat she'll be fighting in melee with a reach weapon. Out of combat she's a halfway-decent skill monkey and rogue substitute.
In terms of PBP history I've only been on the boards for about six months, but I've been (and still am) active in several games. One of my favorites was this Strange Aeons game, although sadly our GM disappeared shortly into it. (My character was Saiya. The whole intro sequence is a lot of fun to read.)
Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions!
I left the general background the same, but added some vignettes to give a better idea of Aronida’s character. (Who is chaotic good, by the way, forgot to mention that originally.) The ABCs for this character are:
A: Halfling (Twilight Heritage)
”By the decree of our new Lord-Mayor, Jilia Bainilus, slavery is herey abolished in Kintargo.” Urora Sarini looked like she had swallowed a lemon. ”Therefore...” The sour look intensified. ”Therefore, you will all be…entitled, to wages from this day forth. In exchange for continuing to work for me, you will be paid three silver pieces a week.”
Aronida looked around at the other newly-freed slaves, who all seemed as confused as she was. To be free...Aronida had dreamed of it, but in the same way a child might dream of getting a pony. She had never expected it to actually happen.
”Three silver a week?!” Jak was pushing his way through the other slaves, no, servants, they were servants now. Jak was one of the very few slav…servants the Sarinis owned that hadn’t been born into the status. ”You take our freedom from us, you beat us when we try to escape, you insist that we are things to be owned, and then you offer us three silver a week?” He’d made his way to the staircase now, a few steps below where Urora and her bodyguard were standing. ”Here’s what I think of your damn silver.” He spat on the staircase.
Urora sneered down at him. ”You are, of course, free to leave. To starve on the streets with all the other freed slaves. Or you can stay here, and have food, a bed, and a fair wage. It’s up to you.” From the murmuring Aronida could hear, many of them were planning on taking the offer. What else could they do?
It’s up to me…
Jak spat on the staircase again, then turned and started marching out the front door with a few others. Aronida hesitated, then scrambled to join them. ”Jak, wait for me!”
The small house was in sight, and Aronida could feel her crop growing impatient. Nervous shifting. Sidelong glances. They’d been out in the wilderness for five days now, eating only what rations Aronida had in her backpack and what food she could safely hunt, and all of them were eager for the relative safety of the barn.
That made it all the more important to be careful.
Aronida took her time observing the surrounding area. She’d been working this row for two years now; she knew every bush and tree. Was anything out of place? Any shadows that shouldn’t be there? Any hints of movement in the darkness?
She sat for nearly an hour in complete silence before she finally gestured her crop forward. They snuck across the field, low to the ground and quiet, then around the back of the house. The shed was unlocked, as was expected. She went in, carefully ensuring her crop followed her inside, then waited again. Thirty minutes later, finally convinced they hadn’t been followed, she opened the secret trap door and ushered them down the ladder into the cellar.
Malco was there, also as expected. She felt some of her crop flinching from the man, even though they’d been told to expect him. Few halflings in Cheliax could afford to trust humans. Demonstrating her own trust, she stepped forward to greet him with a smile. ”Father Pictor, it’s good to see you again.” See? I know him. I trust him. You’re safe here.
Malco smiled back at her. ”How many times have I told you, it’s Malco. Calling me Father makes me feel old. Besides, I’m a priest of the Drunken God. I don’t need titles. Just ale!” He laughed. ”Speaking of which, I’ve set out a small meal for you all.” He gestured behind him, where there was a halfling-sized table with some bread, cheese, cold meats, and a bottle of wine.
”Thank you...Malco.” She winked at him and sat down, reaching for the cheese. Her crop exchanged a few more nervous glances, then tentatively sat down as well. A few minutes later they were wolfing down the food, and the braver ones had poured themselves glasses of wine. Aronida smiled again as they all started to relax. Once the food was devoured, Malco showed them the cots set up in the back. Most were asleep within minutes.
Good. Aronida was particularly proud of the banter, a routine she and Malco had come up with about a year ago. It helped the crops relax enough to eat and sleep, even in the presence of a strange human. That was important. It would be a few days before another tiller came along to guide them through the next row; if they didn’t trust Malco they’d be too tense to fully regain their strength.
Once everyone was asleep, Malco glanced at her and inclined his head towards the stairs which led up to the house. (All the barns had at least two exits. Safer that way.) She nodded and followed him up to the small kitchen. The curtains over the windows were closed, and as long as she avoided passing between them and the light it shouldn’t be too much of a risk.
He made them both a cup of tea and sat down at the (human-sized) table. ”I thought there’d be more.”
”There were.” She winced. ”Two nights ago there was a Hellknight patrol. We were well-hidden, but as the knights kept getting closer...it’s hard to keep people from panicking. Two of them bolted. I don’t think the Hellknights saw them, they didn’t react, but by the time I felt it was safe to move…” She shook her head and stared into her tea as if it had all the answers. ”I followed their tracks as best as I could, but in the dark, with them running and me not? I couldn’t catch up. Eventually I had to either give up or keep going knowing I was risking everyone’s safety. So...I gave up.”
Malco bit his lip. ”Maybe they’ll make it.”
”Maybe. Or maybe they’ll run into another patrol, or a bear, or just freeze to death because they don’t know where to find shelter.” She sighed. ”I hate losing people.”
”I know.” He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. ”You wouldn’t be doing this work if you didn’t care.”
”It would be easier if I didn’t.” She folded her arms and dropped her head to rest on the table. ”I’m tired Malco. So very tired.” She wasn’t talking about physical exhaustion, and they both knew it.
It happened to all of them sooner or later.
”Maybe it’s time to get some rest.”
Aronida closed her eyes. ”Maybe.”
Aronida had never had one. She’d lived in the Sarini mansion for almost her entire life, but it had certainly never been home. After being freed she’d been too nervous to stay in one place for long. When she wasn’t working the rows she’d wandered from town to town, selling furs to buy the few supplies she needed. Never staying though. Not even in an inn. The only times she slept in a bed were when she’d finished escorting her latest crop to a barn that had an extra.
(”You can’t keep doing this,” Malco had told her. ”You’re killing yourself. You need to rest, really rest, somewhere away from all this.” He’d knelt down to her level, hands on her shoulders, eyes full of concern. ”Look, have you ever heard of Breachill?”)
Breachill wasn’t what she’d expected. Small towns tended to be insular, as distrusting of outsiders as she was of, well, almost everyone. She’d walked up to Cayden’s Keg half-expecting to be thrown out on her ear. Instead Brynne had quickly skimmed the letter of introduction Malco had given her and promptly offered to let her stay as long as she liked.
(”How is that old rascal anyway? Still living on that farm in the middle of nowhere?” Brynne had laughed. ”Any friend of Malco’s is a friend of mine. Come on, I’ve got a spare room upstairs.”)
It wasn’t just Brynne either. Nearly everyone was friendly, or at least polite. When she stuck around, hunting for game out in the forests or offering her services as an archer during the monthly Call for Heroes, people quickly accepted her as another member of the community. She slowly started to relax. To feel safe.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt safe.
Now here she was, staring at a wooden door as though it was going to bite her. Tentatively, she reached out and opened it.
A small, cosy common room. A fireplace with a comfortable halfling-sized chair in front of it. A kitchen with counters she could reach without a step stool. A bedroom with a mattress exactly the way she liked it.
”Told you I could get you some nice furniture for cheap. Crink would never let on, but he’s an old softy at heart. What do you think?”
”I think…” Aronida smiled even as she blinked away a few tears. ”I think it looks like home.”
Aronida, (she has no idea what her last name might have been), was born into slavery in Kintargo, serving the Sarini family. Upon being freed she was left unsure of what to do with her new life. Any time she stepped foot in a city she always felt like she was about to be captured and sold again. At the same time she wanted to free others as she had been freed. The compromise was to work for the Bellflower Network as a tiller, escorting escapees through the wilderness.
After several years of this, she began to feel homesick for a home she'd never had. She still distrusted cities, but didn't want to spend her whole life in the wilderness either. A contact from the Bellflower Network suggested Breachill. As a small town that welcomed adventurers of any background, she could surely find work there, and maybe, just maybe, she could make it her home.
I meant to imply that she'd just be a linguist as far as the military was concerned. They're probably aware of her juvenile delinquent past, (I can't imagine getting picked for this sort of thing without super extensive background checks), but I wasn't intending for that to be the reason she was selected.
4d6 - 4 ⇒ (4, 6, 5, 6) - 4 = 17
4d6 - 1 ⇒ (3, 4, 1, 3) - 1 = 10
4d6 - 2 ⇒ (2, 4, 6, 6) - 2 = 16
4d6 - 1 ⇒ (6, 1, 1, 5) - 1 = 12
4d6 - 1 ⇒ (1, 4, 1, 1) - 1 = 6
4d6 - 1 ⇒ (2, 5, 3, 1) - 1 = 10
4d6 - 2 ⇒ (4, 5, 2, 3) - 2 = 12
4d6 - 1 ⇒ (1, 5, 5, 6) - 1 = 16
4d6 - 2 ⇒ (6, 4, 4, 2) - 2 = 14
4d6 - 2 ⇒ (2, 6, 5, 6) - 2 = 17
4d6 - 2 ⇒ (4, 2, 4, 5) - 2 = 13
4d6 - 2 ⇒ (6, 6, 2, 4) - 2 = 16
Those are some ridiculously good rolls.
Basic concept, (subject to GM approval). Human Unchained Rogue. On our side she's a military linguist who got assigned to this unit specifically to help translate all the weird fantasy languages no one else had heard of. On the other side her rebellious juvenile delinquent phase taught her a whole bunch of skills that are pretty handy for 'local' adventurers.
Int will actually be her highest stat, with Dex a point behind.
If that all sounds good I'll start building.
I'm interested as well. I should be able to post at least once a day, as I usually have a fairly lenient work schedule.
Very basic background:
Aronida, (she has no idea what her last name might have been), was born into slavery in Kintargo, serving one of the noble families there. Upon being freed she was left unsure of what to do with her new life. Any time she stepped foot in a city she always felt like she was about to be captured and sold again. At the same time she wanted to free others as she had been freed. The compromise was to work for the Bellflower Network as a tiller, escorting escapees through the wilderness.
After several years of this, she began to feel homesick for a home she'd never had. She still distrusted cities, but didn't want to spend her whole life in the wilderness either. A contact from the Bellflower Network suggested Breachill. As a small town that welcomed adventurers of any background, she could surely find work there, and maybe, just maybe, she could make it her home. The Call of Heroes provides an excellent chance for a newcomer to establish herself.
This campaign looks interesting, and so I’d like to throw my hat in the ring. The basic mechanics and backstory are below. I haven’t picked equipment or spells, but everything else should be there. Please let me know if I’m missing anything, if anything looks off to you, or if you just plain don’t like the concept.
Ruka Yamamoto (Higashiyama Scion)
LG Female Human Oracle/Slayer (Guerilla) 3
Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 16
Fast Learner (Race bonus): Gain both +1 HP and +1 skill point when leveling in a favored class
Precise Shot (Level 1): No penalty for shooting into melee
Weapon Focus - Bows (Class bonus): +1 bonus on attack rolls with one weapon
Rapid Shot (Class bonus): Make one extra ranged attack
Improved Initiative (Level 3): +4 bonus on initiative checks
+8 Artistry (Philosophy): (+3 class skill, +2 INT, +3 ranks)
Oracle Class Features: Mystery, Oracle’s Curse, Orisons, Revelations
Curse - Elemental Imbalance (Fire): You wield an element’s might, but you are vulnerable to its opposite. If you select fire, you gain vulnerability to cold, cannot benefit from any cold resistance or immunity, and cannot cast spells with the cold or water descriptors.
(I feel I should note here that when picking her curse, I was playing with the flavor of the 'chosen one' theme of this campaign. Being chosen by Shizuru, goddess of the sun, it made sense that Ruka would have a special connection to fire and an aversion to cold. I am aware that this AP requires traveling through some arctic areas, and assume that being vulnerable to cold there is going to suck. I am okay with that. An oracle's curse should be an actual curse.)
Slayer Class Features: 1st Studied Target, Slayer Talent, Sneak Attack +1d6
Guerrilla Archetype Features: Strike First, Strike Last
Chosen Slayer Talents:
Favored Class - Oracle:
Ruka Yamamoto doesn’t remember a time before her adoption by the Kaijitsus. She was still very young when Atsuii sat her down and carefully explained that her real parents had died in a shipwreck when she was just an infant. That was why she had a different surname, even though Atsuii, Lonjiku, and Ameiko were her family. Ruka accepted this with the typical resilience of young children. It was simply how life was.
As she grew older, she became more curious about her birth parents. What were they like? What hobbies had they enjoyed? Atsuii talked about her mother Ryoko’s grace when performing a tea ceremony, her careful calligraphy, the way she could command a room. Lonjiku talked about her father Matsu’s skill with the bow, his ability to read people at a glance, his extensive knowledge of history and philosophy. As she grew older, they began teaching her the same skills her birth parents had mastered.
As parents, the Kaijitsus were fairly lenient with their daughters. As teachers, they were far stricter. Ruka quickly learned that ”I’m tired” or ”I’m bored” would be met with a raised eyebrow and more work. Lonjiku was particularly unyielding when it came to archery. He’d have her and Ameiko hitting targets for hours, correcting their forms down to the smallest detail.
It wasn’t all lessons, of course. The Kaijitsus recognized that Ruka and Ameiko were children, and made sure to give them plenty of time to play. Together they climbed trees, chased each other around the town, and made up nonsensical games. But sometimes Ruka just needed some peace, and so she’d slip off by herself. She’d go to the stables, or even just sit alone in an empty field. Somewhere she could drink in the calm.
It was during one of those times that she met Shalelu Andosana and had her first lesson in shooting things other than paper targets. For Lonjiku archery was an art form. For Shalelu archery was how one killed things. Ruka learned from them both, and with their help she combined their teachings into her own style.
Nineteen now, Ruka works as a waitress at the Rusty Dragon. When not working, she’s either continuing her lessons with Lonjiku and Atsuii or hunting in the Tickwood with Shalelu. Occasionally her and Ameiko talk about heading off and seeking adventure while they’re young. So far no definitive plans have been made, but Ameiko in particular is growing restless. Perhaps a few years away from Sandpoint would do them both good.
Ruka huffed, reaching for the next branch. ”I am! Your arms are longer than mine; it’s not my fault I can’t keep up.”
Ameiko’s face peeked out from the foliage above her. ”You’re just making excuses for being a slowpoke!”
Unable to think of a good response, Ruka settled for sticking her tongue out at her older sister. Ameiko laughed, then started climbing again.
This particular tree was one they’d never climbed before, as it was further away from the inn than they were usually allowed to go. But Lonjiku and Atusii were both busy today, meaning the girls had the whole afternoon free. No lessons, no chores, and no parents to tell them they were going too far.
”Just you wait,” Ruka grumbled under her breath. ”I’m going to get bigger than you eventually, and then you’ll be the slowpoke while I-”
Ruka’s eyes shot upwards. She could just barely make out Ameiko, desperately reaching for a different branch.
She didn’t make it.
Ameiko plummeted with a scream, crashing into several more branches on the way down. There was a loud thud as she hit the ground. Then silence.
”Ameiko!” Ruka started scrambling back down, nearly falling herself in her haste. ”Ameiko, are you okay? Say something, this isn’t funny!”
Ruka dropped the last few feet and immediately ran over to her sister. Ameiko was lying in a crumpled heap at the base of the tree. The rise and fall of her chest was the only visible movement.
”Ameiko! Ameiko, wake up!” Tears streamed down Ruka’s face as she fell to her knees next to her sister. ”Ameiko, what do I do, I don’t know what to do!” She wanted to run for help, but couldn’t bear to leave her sister like that. She was so still.
Touch her. Gently.
It wasn’t a voice, not exactly. More an...understanding. A realization that she did know what to do, she’d always known what to do, she just hadn’t known that she’d known.
She reached out, gently grasping Ameiko’s shoulder. Words suddenly appeared in her mind, and she said them without really knowing why. Only that they needed to be said. A soft warm light spread from her hands, covering Ameiko’s body. For a moment nothing happened.
Then Ameiko stirred, groaning. Her eyes blinked open. ”Ruka? What happened?”
Sobbing from relief this time, Ruka hugged her sister. ”You fell, you were hurt, you weren’t moving, I was so scared!”
Ameiko hugged her back, wincing slightly at the movement. ”It’s fine. I’m fine, just a little sore is all. Nothing a hot bath won’t cure. Let’s just go home, okay? And, uh, maybe don’t tell mom I fell? She’d get upset.”
But you weren’t fine. You weren’t fine at all.
Ruka shivered, then resolutely put the thought aside. She’d have time later to think about what had happened. But for now, Ameiko was fine. The two of them could go home together, and she’d never complain about a boring afternoon of lessons again.
”Okay.” Ruka sniffled and scrubbed her face with her shirt sleeve. ”Okay. Let’s go home.”
A few ants crawled over Ruka’s skin. She didn’t move, not even a slight shift to brush them away.
Her leg muscles cramped, protesting the position she’d been holding for hours. She ignored them with practiced ease.
The boar she’d been hunting all day was finally in sight. It made its way through the forest, heading for the small pond nearby.
As she’d known it eventually would. The tracks around the pond suggested it came here often for water. The broken brush of the almost-invisible trail spoke to its normal path.
”Don’t try to track down where an animal is. Track down where it was. Animals form habits, just like people. Hunting is all about patience. Wait for them to come to you, and you’ll always catch your prey.”
‘Always’ may not have been true, not at Ruka’s current skill level. But this time, she’d at least succeeded in finding her prey.
Now it was time for the kill.
She took the composite longbow she was holding and stealthily nocked an arrow. She was downwind of course, helping conceal not only her scent but also any small noises that might otherwise have given her away. She drew back the string, following the boar, making sure her shot would be true.
”Whatever you hunt, kill it as swiftly and painlessly as possible.”
She released. The arrow flew through the air and buried itself in the boar’s eye. It was quite possibly the finest shot she’d ever made.
More importantly, it was a clean kill.
Ruka swung herself out of the tree she’d been sitting in, making her way to the corpse. She bowed once, respectfully. ”Thank you for the gift of your life.” She retrieved her arrow, then turned to see Shalelu walking up behind her.
The elf smiled slightly as she looked over the boar. ”Well done.” Neither the smile nor the praise was common, and Ruka couldn’t help the grin that formed on her own face at her mentor’s acknowledgement. ”Do you plan to butcher it here?”
Ruka glanced up at the darkening sky. ”It’s getting too late to do it today. I’ll carry it back to Marin’s. He’ll happily butcher it for me in exchange for some of the meat.”
”Very well then. Any idea when you’ll be hunting next?”
”Unfortunately no.” Ruka grimaced. ”Lonjiku wants me working more shifts at the inn, and Atsuii says I need to focus on my history lessons. It may be a while before I get back out to the Tickwood.”
Shalelu nodded, unsurprised. The Kaijitsus approved of Ruka using her archery skills for a practical purpose, but had always been clear that her other duties came first.
For today, she helped Ruka arrange the boar on her shoulders. Few would have thought the small woman capable of carrying such a beast, but they would have been wrong. Years of intense training, both with the Kaijitsus and with Shalelu, had ensured that strength was something Ruka had in abundance.
”Next time you have a free day, let me know. I believe we’ll begin working on mounted archery next.”
”Of course, master.” Ruka bowed again, slightly clumsily due to the weight of the boar. Shalelu had never asked for such formalities, but the Kaijitsus had ensured they were ingrained into her being. Teachers were to be treated with respect. Always.
”Farewell then. Until next time.”
”Until next time,” Ruka echoed. Shifting the boar into a more comfortable position, she began the long trek home.
Ruka is overall a very practical, patient woman. She does have a temper, (as more than one handsy patron can attest), but is capable of controlling it when necessary. She’s an introvert that feels more comfortable with animals than with most people. Despite this, she’s quite capable of channeling Atusii’s lessons and either smoothly negotiating with a difficult customer, or shutting them down with a single sharp word.
Ruka tries her best to be honorable at all times. While she can lie, she doesn’t like to, and avoids it whenever possible. She greatly respects her family, both adoptive and birth, and honors them as much as she can. The Kaijitsus also emphasized the importance of duty, and she has taken those lessons to heart.
On a subconscious level Ruka is always aware that she is not a Kaijitsu, and that leads her to feel insecure about her place in the family. She overcompensates for this by trying hard to be the best daughter she can. While this has been mostly a good thing so far, she would have a great deal of difficulty ever outright refusing an order from Lonjiku or Atsuii, even if they were telling her to do something she never would have otherwise.
Her practical nature also has its downsides. She’s meticulous to the point of perfectionism, seeing no point in doing anything if you’re not going to do it right. She also tends to be judgmental of actions she considers impulsive.
Not gonna lie, I went vigilante entirely for the extra bonuses to social skills.
Alias has been updated again. Nothing major for the crunch; I just swapped around some gear and made a couple small changes to Versatile Vials. I did add a lot more backstory in the form of three 'memories', which will hopefully help you get a better sense of the character.
Yep, me too. I already had five 'background' skills I was maxing out, not to mention the random stuff I'm putting a few points into here and there.
Whether selected or not, this recruitment has given me an opportunity to indulge in my not-so-secret fantasy of building a character with all of the skills.
@GM: Thanks for taking a look! I've taken Lilli's advice and added Craftspeople, Lackeys, and a Manager. (Alias here.)
I've taken Celestial, Draconic, Gnome, and Orc as my Int bonus languages, while Dwarven is my extra from a point in Linguistics. Reading over the discussion pages I saw some talk of creating a secret language for the conspirators, so I could always trade out Dwarven for that.
I do understand that we're effectively starting in Book 2; I just didn't want to have any assumptions about Book 1 in my backstory. You might have noticed that most of my 'rogue-like' skills, (Disable Device, Escape Artist, etc.) have two points in them. I figure my law-abiding alchemist wouldn't have needed those skills from levels 1-3, but my Influential Merchant might have picked them up during levels 4-5.
Speaking of skills, while reading over the discussion I also came across this gem:
GM TWO wrote:
A wonderful side note -- it appears that the 'half your lesser class's base skill points' bonus actually includes your background skills -- so everyone is going to have a baseline of 20 background skills (10 standard, +5 skill bonus, +5 game bonus). Spend wisely!!
Does that still apply? (Stares at already-ridiculous list of skills and begins cackling madly.)
I think I've finalized most of Estelle's build. I've created an alias here, although I'll avoid posting as Estelle in case I'm not chosen and need to delete it.
Things still up in the air are Languages, (elves are extremely limited in the languages they can learn, which doesn't make sense for my human-raised character), and whether or not Versatile Vials has a manager. I confess I'm extremely confused as to how to calculate a building's daily earnings, and so I'm not sure if I can afford one.
Again, I welcome feedback from both the GM and current players.
@ Lilli: Thanks for the advice!
I wanted to explain why she'd be willing to join a conspiracy after 50 years of staying out of things, but you're right that she wouldn't have known about this particular Conspiracy until after campaign start. I'll think about how best to make that work.
The 'claim' is a purely emotional one. I'll make that clearer in the full background :)
Thanks for answering my question. To be clear, I got the RAW part from Paizo's FAQ, which states that alchemists aren't spellcasters and therefore can't take any item creation feats other than Brew Potion, (which they get for free while explicitly ignoring the usual requirements). The general consensus on these forums seemed to be that therefore RAW investigators couldn't take Brew Potion.
I'm still working out the final details, but here's my basic character concept. Please let me know if you see anything wrong with it. (I welcome feedback from both the GM and current players.)
Basic Character Concept:
Estelle Delsarte is an elvish vigilante/empiricist investigator. In combat she dual-wields kukris and takes advantage of studied combat’s bonuses to damage alongside the various vigilante talents. Outside of combat she’s a skill monkey. The vigilante half of the gestalt gives her bonuses to a lot of social skills, while the investigator helps with knowledges and general inspiration bonuses. (She has so many skills. So very many.)
Unusually for an elf, she’s lawful neutral. Her reasons for joining the Conspiracy are entirely selfish. She wants to protect her alchemy shop and the small neighborhood in the Sud Rivière that she’s claimed as her own. For ‘her’ neighborhood to be safe, Isarn needs to be stable. For Isarn to be stable, the Red Revolution has to end. Since it’s showing no signs of ending on its own, well, looks like it’s time for her to get her hands dirty.
I don’t envision her being ‘Influential’ in the sense of being anyone important. Her shop is small and she’s stayed as far away from politics as possible. Where her influence comes from is sheer longevity. She’s lived in Isarn and run her little shop for almost 100 years. She should be well-known as a tough but fair businesswoman, whose wares are good and whose prices are reasonable. And as such, I imagine she would have gained a lot of quiet respect from the middle class, particularly the other merchants. She’s shopped at their stores, seen them at guild meetings, given them small loans with reasonable interest rates to help keep a good business afloat.
As for how she's survived the Revolution so far, it's involved a lot of keeping her head down. She's not an extravagant person and her shop existed long before the Red Revolution began; she had savings which she's been carefully meting out over the years. Unfortunately for her those savings are beginning to run out. She's been forced to admit that she can't keep going much longer, which is what's motivating her to finally get involved.
Quick question for the GM. Would you allow an investigator to take the Brew Potion feat? RAW they can't, because they don't have a caster level.
It's not a huge deal either way, I just thought I'd ask. My character (Investigator/Vigilante) runs an alchemist's shop and I was thinking selling a few basic potions could be a part of that.
I figured it would be helpful. I do plan on doing another compilation post once the recruitment period officially closes, so if there's any other information you'd like to see at a glance just let me know. Of course this is entirely due to the generosity of my heart and not at all me trying to win bonus points... *whistles innocently*
@Wandering Wastrel and/or anyone else still submitting characters: I'll be certain to add you all into the final compilation.
There's been a lot of interest already, so I've compiled the submissions so far into one post. For people who've created an alias, I included a link to said alias. For everyone else, I included a link to the post with their submission. Since Samy indicated they enjoyed non-European flavored characters, I also included the region each character was from as indicated by their Regional trait.
Dotted for Interest:
I'm submitting an Investigator with the Questioner archetype, which gets rid of alchemy in favor of some arcane spells. (Essentially it's a Rogue/Bard hybrid, although the emphasis is definitely on the Rogue part of the equation.) Party Role would be a combination of Skill Monkey and Scout. Please let me know if you have any questions!
Alignment: True Neutral
Race: Fetchling (Native Outsider)
Class: Investigator (Questioner Archetype)
Appearance, Memories, and Personality:
In terms of character development, I expect her alignment to shift more towards good as the story progresses, especially if the rest of the party leans in that direction.
OOC Player Information:
Most of this was answered in the interest thread. I am usually able to check the forums multiple times a day. My history is relatively recent, so I don’t have a good way to show I’ll stick around other than my word.
As for Hard Nos, my big one (rape) has already been stated by other applicants. If other players want to have that in their backstories that’s fine, but I’m not comfortable with it happening to my character. I would be okay with creepy innuendo or even threats, so long as it was coming from someone clearly villainous and never progressed further than that.
No long history here; I just started my first PBP about two months ago. I've included links to a few games so you can at least get an idea of my posting style.
My time zone is Eastern Standard. I do most of my PBPing during the day, as my job is fairly relaxed about computer usage so long as I meet my quotas. Chat sessions would be pushing it though. Tuesday/Thursdays are my most frequently available weeknights, but I can't promise I'd be available every week.
As a player I'm invested in roleplaying and creating interesting stories. That's actually why I got into PBP. My IRL games are fun, but the players are more "kick down the door" types. PBP helps me scratch that roleplaying itch.
I had an idea for a gnomish Oracle. The backstory is a little sparse due to the time limitation, but I'll fill it out more if selected.
Female Gnome Oracle 1
CG Small Humanoid (Gnome)
Init +2; Senses: Low-Light vision; Perception +7
AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +2 Dex.,+1 Size)
HP 10 (1d8)
Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2
Speed 20 ft.
Ranged Light Crossbow +3 (1d6+0, 19-20/x2)
Melee Light Mace +3 (1d4-1, x2)
Melee Dagger +3 (1d3-1, 19-20/x2)
Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 19
Base Atk +0; CMB -2; CMD 10
Spell Focus (Illusion): +1 bonus on save DCs for one school
Bluff : +8 (+3 Class Skill, +4 CHA, +1 Rank)
Spells Known (CL1):
Dancing Lights (1/day): Create torches or other lights
Ghost Sound (DC16) (1/day): Figment sounds. (+1 DC feat, +1 DC racial)
Prestidigitation (1/day): Perform minor tricks
Speak with Animals (1/day): You can communicate with animals
Orisons (Default DC14):
Level 1 (4/day) (Default DC15):
Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Oracles are proficient with all simple weapons, light armor, medium armor, and shields (except tower shields).
Bonus Spells: color spray (2nd), hypnotic pattern (4th), daylight (6th), rainbow pattern (8th), overland flight (10th), chain lightning (12th), prismatic spray (14th), sunburst (16th), meteor swarm (18th).
Awesome Display: Your phantasmagoric displays accurately model the mysteries of the night sky, dumbfounding all who behold them. Each creature affected by your illusion (pattern) spells is treated as if its total number of Hit Dice were equal to its number of Hit Dice minus your Charisma modifier (if positive).
+2 Constitution, +2 Charisma, –2 Strength: Gnomes are physically weak but surprisingly hardy, and their enthusiastic attitudes make them naturally agreeable.
Small: Gnomes are Small creatures and gain a +1 size bonus to their AC, a +1 size bonus on attack rolls, a –1 penalty on combat maneuver checks and to their Combat Maneuver Defense, and a +4 size bonus on Stealth checks.
Slow Speed: Gnomes have a base speed of 20 feet.
Low-Light Vision: Gnomes can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light.
Gnome Magic: Gnomes add 1 to the DCs of any saving throws to resist illusion spells that they cast. Gnomes with a Charisma of 11 or higher also gain the following spell-like abilities: 1/day—dancing lights, ghost sound, prestidigitation, and speak with animals. The caster level for these effects is equal to the gnome’s character level. The DC for these spells is equal to 10 + the spell’s level + the gnome’s Charisma modifier.
Illusion Resistance: Gnomes get a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against illusion spells or effects.
Keen Senses: Gnomes receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.
Languages: Gnomes begin play speaking Common, Gnome, and Sylvan. Gnomes with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following languages: Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Giant, Goblin, and Orc.
Eternal Hope (Alternate Racial Trait): Gnomes rarely lose hope and are always confident that even hopeless situations will work out. Gnomes with this racial trait receive a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against fear and despair effects. Once per day, after rolling a 1 on a d20, the gnome may reroll and use the second result. This racial trait replaces defensive training and hatred.
Light Crossbow: Free, 2lbs
Crossbow bolts (40): 4gp, 2lbs
Light Mace: 5gp, 2lbs
Dagger: 2gp, 0.5lbs
Studded Leather Armor: Free, 10lbs
Gold: 5gp, 6sp, 9cp
Total Cost: 99gp, 3sp, 1cp
Kira’s parents are both professors of botany at the famous Alabaster Academy. While their focus is on the many plants and wonders of this world, Kira was always more interested in the stars. Astronomy wasn’t one of the primary areas of study at the Academy, but there were a few esoteric professors happy to indulge her curiosity.
With the takeover of the city by Lord-Mayor Thrune, Kira worries about the effect his strange proclamations will have on the Alabaster Academy. She joins the protest in Aria Park hoping Thrune can be convinced that protecting the Academy is in the best interests of the city.
Presenting Eunomia Verto, Aasimar Celestial Sorcerer. While a full arcane caster, the celestial bloodline gives her access to some cleric spells and even some (extremely limited) healing ability. If accepted I'll create an alias. Please let me know if you have any questions, or if there's a part of the build you'd like me to change.
Female Aasimar Sorcerer 4
LG Medium Outsider (Native)/Humanoid (Human)
Init +2; Senses Darkvision 60ft; Perception +8
AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 12 (+2 dex, +1 deflection, +1 armor)
HP 30 (4d6)
Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +8
Saving Throw Bonuses: +2 against death effects, energy drain, negative energy, and spells or spell-like abilities of the necromancy school
Resistances: Acid 5, Cold 5, Negative Energy 5
Ranges Masterwork Light Crossbow +3 (1d8, 19-20/x2)
Melee Morningstar -1 (1d8 -1, x2)
Melee Dagger -1 (1d4 -1, 19-20/x2)
Str 9, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 18, Cha 12
Base Atk +2; CMB 11; CMD 13
Eschew Materials (class bonus): Cast spells without material components
Fast Learner (Level 1): Gain both +1 HP and +1 skill point when leveling in a favored class
Craft Wondrous Item (Level 3): Create magic wondrous items
Diplomacy : +4/+5/+6 (+1 CHA, +3 Ranks, +1 Trait Bonus if gathering information, +1 Trait Bonus if persuading a nongood creature to do good or a nonlawful creature to obey the law, +2 Trait Bonus if persuading a nongood, nonlawful creature to take a lawful good action)
Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Sorcerers are proficient with all simple weapons. They are not proficient with any type of armor or shield. Armor interferes with a sorcerer's gestures, which can cause her spells with somatic components to fail (see Arcane Spells and Armor).
Class Skill: Heal.
Bonus Spells: bless (3rd), resist energy (5th), magic circle against evil (7th), remove curse (9th), flame strike (11th), greater dispel magic (13th), banishment (15th), sunburst (17th), gate (19th).
Bonus Feats: Dodge, Extend Spell, Iron Will, Mobility, Mounted Combat, Ride-By Attack, Skill Focus (Knowledge [religion]), Weapon Finesse.
Bloodline Arcana: Unlike most sorcerers whose innate magic is powered by force of personality, you use pure willpower to master and fuel your magic. You use your Wisdom, rather than your Charisma, to determine all class features and effects relating to your sorcerer class, such as bonus spells per day, maximum spell level you can cast, and the save DCs of your spells. You gain a +2 bonus on all Heal and Knowledge (religion) checks.
Heavenly Fire: Starting at 1st level, you can unleash a ray of heavenly fire as a standard action, targeting any foe within 30 feet as a ranged touch attack. Against evil creatures, this ray deals 1d4 points of damage + 1 for every two sorcerer levels you possess. This damage is divine and not subject to energy resistance or immunity. This ray heals good creatures of 1d4 points of damage + 1 for every two sorcerer levels you possess. A good creature cannot benefit from your heavenly fire more than once per day. Neutral creatures are neither harmed nor healed by this effect. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier. (Current: 7 times per day, 1d4+2)
Celestial Resistances: At 3rd level, you gain resist acid 5 and resist cold 5. At 9th level, your resistances increase to 10.
Favored Class - Sorcerer:
Ability Modifiers: +2 Constitution, +2 Wisdom
Medium: Aasimars are Medium creatures and have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
Normal Speed: Aasimars have a base speed of 30 feet.
Darkvision: Aasimars can see in the dark up to 60 feet.
Skill Modifiers: Lawbringers have a +2 racial bonus on Intimidate and Sense Motive checks.
Languages: Aasimars begin play speaking Common. Aasimars with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following languages: Celestial, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Gnome, Halfling, and Sylvan.
Deathless Spirit (Alternate Racial Trait): Particularly strong-willed aasimars possess celestial spirits capable of resisting the powers of death. They gain resistance 5 against negative energy damage. They do not lose hit points when they gain a negative level, and they gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against death effects, energy drain, negative energy, and spells or spell-like abilities of the necromancy school. This racial trait replaces celestial resistance.
Incorruptible (Alternate Racial Trait): Occasionally, aasimars arise with the ability to further ward away evil. Aasimars with this racial trait can cast corruption resistance against evil once per day as a spell-like ability. If an aasimar uses this ability on herself, the duration increases to 1 hour per level. This racial trait replaces the spell-like ability racial trait.
Scion of Humanity (Alternate Racial Trait): Some aasimars’ heavenly ancestry is extremely distant. An aasimar with this racial trait counts as an outsider (native) and a humanoid (human) for any effect related to race, including feat prerequisites and spells that affect humanoids. She can pass for human without using the Disguise skill. This racial trait replaces the Celestial language and alters the native subtype.
Spells Known (CL 4):
Corruption Resistance (1/day): Protects creature against damage from alignment-based attacks.
Level 1 (DC15) (7/day):
Level 2 (DC16) (4/day):
Silken Ceremonial Armor: 30gp
Masterwork Light Crossbow: 335gp
Bolts (20): 2gp
Cold Iron Daggers (2): 8gp
Acid Flask (5): 50gp
50gp, 6sp, 4cp
Why the Stolen Lands?:
Knock knock knock
Eunomia Verto entered the room and saluted sharply. ”You asked to see me, sir?”
Commander Achille Parsall smiled faintly. ”Greetings, soldier. I’d like you to accompany me on a patrol around the city.”
”Of course, sir. Whenever you would like to leave.”
Working in silence the two gathered weapons and saddled horses. From the corner of her eye Eunomia could see Commander Parsall give a slight sigh of relief as soon as they were outside the city gates, his shoulders slumping slightly as if he’d been relieved of a great burden.
In a way he had been. That was the whole point of this little ritual. Inside the city, Commander Parsall’s word was law. Outside of it, Achille could relax and enjoy a slow ride in the sunshine with a friend. A strange friend, perhaps, given that she was nearly 30 years his junior. But they’d worked together, and fought together, and trusted each other’s judgment. Out here, they were equals.
Today, though, it seemed there was more on his mind than relaxation. ”Have you heard the latest rumors from the north?”
Eunomia frowned. ”I don’t think so. Nothing unusual anyway, just typical Mivon politics.”
”A bit further than that, in the Stolen Lands. Apparently a small group has been killing bandits in the area. Rumor has it they’re trying to start a colony.”
”That...sounds like what we’ve done here. Or are trying to do, anyway.”
In the River Kingdoms nations rose and fell on a daily basis. Liberthane had survived as long as it had only because of Achille’s sheer force of will. Still, over 20 years since its founding, they were more a town than a nation. Liberthane had a solidly-built fort, disciplined soldiers, a few farmers and their families...and very little else.
Looking around at those farms, Eunomia remembered what a relief it had been when she first came here as a child. It was a rare place where laws were equally enforced for all citizens. A small bastion of peace in a chaotic world. It was what had drawn her parents here. What had drawn them all here, really. But while Liberthane was stable, it had never been able to grow.
”Do you think they can do it? Actually create a successful colony?”
”I don’t know.” Achille smiled wryly. ”Although it seems they have outside support, which is more than we ever had. Brevoy’s apparently grown tired of the chaos on her southern border.”
”What are you thinking?’
He sighed. ”I’m thinking that I’m getting old, Ver, and I’m afraid everything I’ve worked for is going to mean nothing. We’re too small and well-defended for the larger nations like Mivon to bother with, but that sword cuts both ways. They won’t ally with us either. Eventually, someone is going to decide we’re worth attacking.
So I have a favor to ask of you. And it is a favor, not an order. I would like you to go north. Find out what these people are up to. See what they’re like; you’re the best judge of character I know. Are they bandits with delusions of grandeur? Or could they be something more?
If it’s the former, well, hopefully they’ll be too far away to ever set their sights on Liberthane. If it’s the latter…”
He brought his horse up next to hers, staring into her eyes with an intensity that she rarely saw from him outside of battle.
”If it’s the latter, Ver, I want you to join them. Help them. I dreamed once of uniting the River Kingdoms. Bringing liberty to all these lands, not just a tiny fraction. Maybe you could actually accomplish it. Or at the very least, forge an alliance with people who would prefer not to see Liberthane fall.”
Eunomia was shaken. She looked around again at the small hamlet that was the only home she’d ever known. To leave it all behind...
Commander Parsall couldn't order her to do this. It was too much. But her friend Achille could ask for her help.
She reached out and took his hand, as awkward as the gesture was on horseback. ”Of course. I’ll see who these people are. If they can be trusted. Not just for Liberthane.” She smiled. ”But for everyone who wants nothing more than a chance to live in peace.”
In terms of personality/background her favored role would probably be either Marshall or Warden, with Councilor a close third. However she's got a decent stat lineup and would be willing to serve in almost any role. The only roles she'd outright refuse would be Ruler, General, and Spymaster, none of which would work well with her stats and/or personality.
Quick question about traits. You said two traits, one "campaign related." Is there any flexibility on that?
The character I have in mind is an envoy sent from the River Kingdoms to figure out what's going on/possibly broker an alliance. Since she's not from Brevoy but also isn't a criminal, none of the campaign traits really work.
Thanks for answering my questions. I'm posting my character concept here using the spoiler tags. I'll create an alias if submitted. (Also, if anything looks off, please let me know and I'll change it.)
Female Tiefling Wizard (Illusionist) 1
NG Medium Outsider (Native)
Init +6; Senses: Darkvision 60ft; Perception +0
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+2 dex., +1 armor)
HP 8 (1d6) (+1 FCB)
Fort +1, Ref +2, Will +2
Melee Dagger -1 (1d4 -1, 19-20/x2)
Ranged Light Crossbow +2 (1d8+0, 19-20/x2)
Str 8, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 9
Base Atk +0; CMB -1; CMD 11
Scribe Scroll (Bonus Feat): Create magic scrolls
Improved Initiative: +4 bonus on initiative checks
Craft (Alchemy): +11
Class and Racial Features:
Wizard Class Features
Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Wizards are proficient with the club, dagger, heavy crossbow, light crossbow, and quarterstaff, but not with any type of armor or shield.
Spells: A wizard casts arcane spells drawn from the sorcerer/wizard spell list. A wizard must choose and prepare his spells ahead of time by getting 8 hours of sleep and spending 1 hour studying his spellbook.
Arcane Bond (Chosen Object - Ring): At 1st level, wizards form a powerful bond with an object or a creature. Wizards who select a bonded object begin play with one at no cost. These objects are always masterwork quality. If the object is an amulet or ring, it must be worn to have effect. If a wizard attempts to cast a spell without his bonded object worn or in hand, he must make a concentration check or lose the spell. The DC for this check is equal to 20 + the spell's level. A bonded object can be used once per day to cast any one spell that the wizard has in his spellbook and is capable of casting, even if the spell is not prepared. The bonded object cannot be used to cast spells from the wizard's opposition schools (see arcane school).
Arcane School (Specialist School: Illusion - Mage of the Veil. Opposition Schools: Enchantment/Necromancy): A wizard can choose to specialize in one school of magic, gaining additional spells and powers based on that school. A wizard that chooses to specialize in one school of magic must select two other schools as his opposition schools, representing knowledge sacrificed in one area of arcane lore to gain mastery in another. A wizard who prepares spells from his opposition schools must use two spell slots of that level to prepare the spell.
Scribe Scroll: At 1st level, a wizard gains Scribe Scroll as a bonus feat.
Spellbooks: A wizard must study his spellbook each day to prepare his spells. He cannot prepare any spell not recorded in his spellbook, except for read magic, which all wizards can prepare from memory.
Requirements: A mage of the veil must select disguise self as one of his spells known at 1st level.
Class Skills: A mage of the veil gains Bluff, Disguise, and Stealth as class skills.
Associated School: Illusion.
Replacement Powers: The following school powers replace the blinding ray and invisibility field powers of the illusion school.
Face in the Crowd: At 1st level as a standard action, you can cause yourself to appear so normal, mundane, and unexceptional that you blend in to your surroundings. All creatures within 30 feet treat you as if you belonged there, effectively ignoring you. Creatures outside of this area may notice that you appear out of place, but as soon as they approach within 30 feet they are affected by the magic and no longer think something is amiss. If you interact with an affected creature in any way, it gains a Will save (DC 10 + 1/2 your wizard level + your Intelligence modifier) to disbelieve the illusion and notice you. The effect lasts for a number of minutes equal to your wizard level, or until the illusion is dispelled. The minutes do not need to be consecutive, but must be used in 1-minute increments. This is a mind-affecting phantasm effect.
Total cost: 108gp, 2sp, 2cp
It had finally come. After weeks arguing with her parents about the application fees. Long nights studying at the library to prepare for the entrance examination. Months of waiting, wondering if she was really good enough, or if this had all just been a waste of time and money.
With shaking hands Hiraeth opened the envelope, barely avoiding nicking herself with one of her long, sharp claws.
Dear Ms. Hiraeth, we would be pleased to welcome you as a first-year student at the Academy Arcane…
Suddenly boneless, she slumped to the floor. Her mother’s voice, worried, called from the next room. ”Hireath? Is everything alright?”
Was it? She’d made it, but…
She quickly scanned the rest of the letter, looking for the magic words.
...you have been offered a full-tuition scholarship…
Her breath caught. She read it again. And again. The words remained the same. They weren’t just accepting her, they were giving her a scholarship! Which meant…
Her mother walked into the room, her face growing more concerned when she saw Hireath on the floor. ”Hireath? What’s wrong?”
”Nothing! Nothing’s wrong! They accepted me, mom! With a scholarship!” Hireath was crying now. ”I can actually go!”
Acceptance was hard to come by for a tiefling, particularly one as...obvious...as Hireath. (The claws she could hide in gloves. She’d long since mastered the art of smiling without showing her fangs. Even her tail was usually hidden underneath a long skirt. But nothing could be done about her reptilian eyes, or the long, curling horns sprouting from her head.) Her parents loved her, but most of her peers were afraid of the “fiend-spawn.”
With few friends, Hireath buried herself in books. Most frequently books on magic, a line of study her parents encouraged. Potion-brewing was a lucrative occupation, after all. What they hadn’t expected was the sheer talent the girl showed for spellcraft.
It was a librarian who suggested she apply to the Academy Arcane, after seeing her practice a few cantrips she’d taught herself. Her parents were initially hesitant. Schools were expensive, and their small alchemist’s shop didn’t make that much profit. Hireath begged and pleaded, until eventually they agreed to let her apply. If she was accepted, they’d see if they could somehow raise the funds.
But now, they didn’t have to. Now, Hireath could attend the Academy Arcane with her head held high, without worrying about her parents having to sacrifice their own lives to send her there.
She’d prove to everyone that they’d made the right choice.
Plus bonus limericks!
A tiefling once born in the city
She taught herself new magic arts
I'm not trying to step on anyone's toes, but I thought I'd build on Lord Christian's excellent work by adding links to posts for the characters without aliases.
Simeon: Orandek Slagboulder, Dwarf Ranger (Guide, Trapper)