About Akhtcrunch:
Akht Male Tiefling witch 6 CN Medium outsider (native) Init +7, Senses darkvision (18 m); Perception +8 ================================================= DEFENSE ================================================= AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 11 (+3 Dex, +1 natural, ) hp 44 ((6d6)+18) Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +5 Resistances cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5, ================================================= OFFENSE ================================================= Speed 9 m Melee quarterstaff +2 (1d6-1) Ranged alchemist's fire (flask) +6 (1d6) Innate Spell-Like Abilities feather fall (DC 16,at will), levitate (1/day), Magic Item Spell-Like Abilities acid splash (at will)mage armor (DC 10,1/day)unseen servant (1/day) Prepared Spells
=================================================
background, personality, role, description:
party role: debuff, secondary healing description: Akht is a tall robed figure with a cold voice. His robes are black and plain, with early signs of fraying at the edges. His face is completely obscured by a thick, black veil, reinforced with a glamer that makes his head completely black and featureless. He has dark skin, jet-black hair and gangly, though agile, limbs. His most discerning characteristic is, however, the purplish green multifaceted eye that occupies most of his head that motivates hiding his face. personality: Having lived a cloistered life, studying unspoken horrors and views of abhorrent realities, being outside and able to see the “normal” world is an overwhelming experience. He has very little in the way of social tact, very often drowning whoever he is talking to in arcane, abyssal and daemonic knowledge. His approach to the world is one of constantly and chaotically conjecturing about anything he encounters until he deems it understood. background: Akht was born to a coven of tiefling witches, all of whom were sired by the same creature and who share the same physical characteristic: where their eyes were supposed to be, there is an empty cyclopic socket. In order to see they all share the same single insectoid eye, given to them by their progenitor and manually passed and attached to one's empty socket as needed. A few years ago, Akht was chosen by his patron and progenitor be his new agent in the outside world. He departed the next day with his equipment, his scorpion familiar Gog and the coven’s eye. patron: Akht's patron and (according to the tiefling) progenitor is Naft, an unfathomable oil-like entity that exists many miles underground. Though it seems to be concerned with shaping history and politics in some way, it does so in an astonishingly slow and random manner, claiming to act as Golarion's geopolitical lubricant. Questions of morality are apparently of no concern to it, or, at least, it does not seem to subscribe to any shape of good or evil that is recognisable to most of Golarion's denizens.
RP sample:
In the middle of the desert, a group travels under the searing heat. Amongst the travellers, a tall figure clad in black walks alongside an older woman wearing an adorned leather armour bearing a few insignias. An uncomfortable silence is shared between them until she speaks to the figure: ”So, Akht, my saviour, where were you headed before we met?” After a few seconds, Akht answers in his strong guttural accent: ”Yes. To complete a task.” ”Oh…and may I ask what task was that?” she asks, looking straight ahead, sweat shining in her forehead. ”To meditate on the black corpse of the sun which is buried underneath us. It flows and sings of telluric lubricants. May their sweet gargling song soon enter us again.” ”Come again? The black corpse of the sun?” Akht tries to smile from underneath the robes ’Humans react more positively when the other person smiles’. His voice comes out as joyful monotone: ”Yes. Many aeons ago, when men were not yet born, the sun in the sky battled with sun inside the earth. Sun inside the earth lost and died and bled out all its blood, which we call Naft. The black corpse of the sun of Golarion is still congealed underneath us and Naft requests us to honour its progenitor’s death.” He continues smiling at his companion. ”Oh…I…see…? And where did you learn this joyous tale?”. She feels his smile and actively tries to unfeel it, picturing something much more palatable in her head. ”It is a tale repeated to me by my oldest brother when I was but a little child. But it is also not a tale. It is truth, of that I am as sure as that the telluric lubricant controls the plot holes of the story of the world.” Akht stops smiling. ’This should be enough to make her feel at ease’. ”It was taught to me as a song. Should I sing it? Very powerful song.” The woman freezes, her mental images of having a nice tea and a long bath in Merab suddently shattered: ”In…in which language is it? I am afraid our animals are still not fully recovered from the last children’s song you generously shared with us.” ”Yes. The lullaby on fossil traditionalism? Was sung in Abyssal. This one? Is sung in Necril dialect, usually spoken by Mwangian shadows. Very soft, just like a beheaded chicken’s head gasping for the air it can no longer send to its body. Gog is very soothed by it.” The scorpion trotting along clacks his pincers as if agreeing. ”I…I believe we shall have to pass this one, no? I wouldn’t want us to get very nostalgic and soft here. Those bandits you drove away might come back to avenge their dead and we cannot be…caught unaware.” A young man in armour comes from the back of the line and approaches Akht and the woman: ”Captain, your advice is needed on where to set up camp.” She sighs in relief ’Thank you, merciful Sarenrae!’ and turns to Akht: ”A fascinating talk, my friend, but duty calls. I’ll send someone else to keep you company.”
Letter of recomendation:
Venture-Captain Jalden Krenshar, A few months ago, whilst following clues to a supposed God-king tomb, my companions and I were shamefully ambushed by a group of bandits, shortly after our “guide” had put some sort of sleep-inducing substance in our water. When I woke up, we were all bound and gagged whilst our captors discussed whether to kill all of us straight away or to try and ask for some sort of ransom. It was then that a tall and gangly figure, completely wrapped in black robes and with a veil over its head appeared. The figure looked at the leader of the bandits and started making terrible sounds (a mix between a laugh and an inhuman gurgling). And then it was as if we were all transported to Hell as the desert sands became ash, geysers of dark oil erupted from the ground and ominous amorphous beings surrounded the bandits. The mayhem continued as ash then obscured our views and all we could hear were screams and the gurgle-laughter of that figure. After a few minutes, all noise subsided and, as the ash cloud dissipated, I saw the figure coming towards me. It dispelled whatever magic was holding me in place and together we freed my companions. The figure then presented itself as Akht, a desert wanderer. As it turned out the tomb we were searching for never existed (Akht knew the area well enough to say that with certainty), we decided to return to Merab and Akht joined us. Back in the city, I asked him how I could ever repay that courageous and life-saving display. He bluntly replied, in that heavy throaty accent of his, that he wanted to become part of the faction I served, the Pathfinder Society. Now, I am aware this is somewhat outside the usual protocol, but you know I am a woman of my word. I told him the final decision is not mine to take, but that if he passed some of our tests I would be happy to recommend him. He accepted it and since then has been in our lodge. To say I trust Akht completely is a lie – for starters, I am yet to see the man’s face after all this time! His powers certainly come from a dark source, but one that does not seem to be inherently evil (only terribly macabre and abhorrent, as our severely shaken mind reader told us when I asked her to do some subtle prodding). In any case, what I have seen in the past months make it clear he is a master in weakening foes and the owner of an amazing intellect that more than makes up all his unsettling aspects (the Society never has been one to judge one’s background, am I correct?). Thus, hearing that you are in need of initiates to complete an assignment in Osirion, I am happy to forward his dossier to you. P.S.: I am aware of the fact that initiates should not have any significant knowledge of the place their test will take place. Rest assured that, for all his learnedness, Akht has never been out of his birthplace and speaks no Osirian. Many thanks,
dossier:
Dossier for Akht Age: 64 Height: 1.90cm Weight: 60kg Eye Color: unknown Hair Color: dark Identifying Marks: due to personal reasons, always dressed in very long robes and a thick veil Race: tiefling Profession: travelling scholar Languages Known: Abyssal, Aklo, Azlanti, Common, Cyclops, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Infernal, Necril, Orc Recommended By: Ihsad Yasmaj, VC of Merab’s lodge Personality: creepy, blunt, somewhat out of touch with reality Qualifications: weakens and rains misfortune upon foes, knowledgeable in ancient, occult and obscure history Biggest Strength: making his foes lives miserable Biggest Weakness: not very capable of direct action Known Warrants for Arrest: none Special Considerations: avoid asking him to sing |
