Salus Tywynnu's page

XP 27,813
Speed 30ft
BA +4, CMB +6, CMD 18
HP 45, AC 19, Flat 17, Touch 12
Fort +10, Ref +8, Will +12

Feats: Eschew Materials (bonus), Armor of the Pit, Power Attack, Arcane Armor Training

Skills: Diplomacy +9, Knowledge (Local) +4, (Arcana) +7, (Planes) +6, (Religion) +7, Spellcraft +11, Perception +4(+9), Heal +5, Sense Motive +8
Traits: Magical Knack (Sorcerer), Killer

(CL 5; 1st: (5)8, 2nd:(2)4):
0th - Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Disrupt Undead, Mending; 1st - Cause Fear (Bloodline), Shield, Sleep, Feather Fall
2nd - Scorching Ray

Detect Thoughts 1/day (CL 5)
Fiendish Sorcery
Darkvision 60ft
Skilled: +2 to Sense Motive and Disguise
Resistances: Cold, Electricity, and Fire 5, +2 to save vs poison
Claws: (8)8 rounds/day, 1d4+2 Damage
Detect Evil at will
Aura of Good
Smite Evil (0)1/day (+4 to hit, +2 to damage)
Divine Grace
Lay on Hands (5)7/day, 3d6 (Bracers add +4 to effective level)

Path: Guardian
Tier: 1
Hard to Kill, Mythic Flaw: Furious Rage
Mythic Power: Charisma: 1d6 (3)7/day
Bonus HP: 5
Path Abilities: Guardian's Call: Absorb Blow, Extra Mythic Power, Archmage Arcana: Wild Arcana
Mythic Feat: Dual Path: Archmage

+1 Mithral Shirt, +2 Giantbane Longsword, Cloak of Resistance +1, Eyes of the Eagle, Ring of Sustenance, Bracers of the Merciful Knight, Bandages of Rapid Recovery x2, Oil of Bless Weapon, Potion of Cure Moderates

CLW Potion CL5

Light Horse (Wartrained)

Statuette

561 GP

The robed man reclined against the wall of the run down tavern exterior. His eyes were focused on men unloading a wagon across the way, yellow, wolf-like playing over the laborers and their cargo. His arms were crossed, concealing the hilt of a blade and a Chelish symbol of the rising sun. This was not the first wagon that had been unloaded and it wasn't going to be the last. A young boy sat nearby, holding the reins of the man's horse so that he could pull his sword without worry should something occur. The robed man's eyes narrowed, his thoughts drifted to a similar caravan, unloading unhallowed goods at a rundown tower, their living cargo screaming for mercy that would not come.

Hundreds would die in that tower, their blood powering rituals to bring ruin from the heart of the abyss. It would end only after the deaths of many heroes, and a few villains. The last had volunteered for their mission, though the Thrice-Damned House had offered a fortune for someone to break the wards guarding the tower and let the Hellknights end the demonic threat. Four brave souls ventured in at the peak of the final ritual, disrupting the ceremony at the crucial point and allowing the balor to enter the world unbound. The sorcerer who had summoned the beast was its first target.

Another wagon pulled up across from the tavern, the goods in this one were different, new, nothing the robed man had seen in the caravan was like this. These still had fight in them. Wasps buzzed about the laborers as the struggled to unload this batch, stinging them anywhere they did not have covered. But the workers were too big, swatting at the wasps and reducing them to ruin.

Again he was at the tower as the balor bore down on the sorcerer, gutting him and reducing him to ruin. A shining knight, screaming Sarenrae's name leapt before the balor, his sword ablaze with holy light lashing out to protect the fallen mage.
The sorcerer crawled away with the last of his strength while the valorous adventurers fought the demon lord.

The robed man began to draw his sword, careful to keep the action concealed by his robes and the horse before him. He began striding to the wagon, shedding his robe and revealing black and red leathers beneath, taloned fingers tightened on the hilt while the figure hissed in a tongue suited more to fiend than mortal. The laborers saw him coming and recoiled from his fury, from within the warehouse came a scarred man bearing a whip and sneering.

"We have done no wrong Chelish cur, we payed the tax." the slavemaster spat.

"You have been given countless opportunities to cease your actions, now your flesh peddling stops tonight." The tiefling said, his free hand whorling in arcane patterns.

A look of recognition crept across the slavemaster's features, "Salus... Salus is that you? What is it, you want your cut? I thought you were killed at Acolyte's Tower"
"Let them go Tabor, last chance." the tiefling spoke sternly, like a father to a beloved but rebelious child.

Again to the tower, now in ruins, the sorcerer fighting his way back to consciousness beneath a wasted oak. A shadow falls across his vision as he tenses against the binding holding him to the ancient tree.

"We should kill him, here and now." the one above him says gruffly, arcane energy visibly arcing from him.

"That's not what Geoff would want and you know it." another says, this one a female in yellow and black.

"Geoff is dead and its because of him." an accusing finger thrust outward from the big, angry one.

"Did he die?" the sorceror said, haunted. "Did he die for me?"

"Yeah he did, you're not worth it, but he did anyway." the anger from the man above him again.

A voice from behind him, this one calm, cool, venomous, "Geoff would want him to have a chance to prove himself. Wolak you clearly want to make him pay, but we can't kill him, not and do our friend any justice. So we leave him here, let him sort himself out."

A vicious glee flashed across the large one's face, he liked the idea. The sorcerer didn't move, it was like a idea had come to him that he could not understand, self-sacrifice was beyond his ken.

The adventurers left him there, though not before the one in yellow and black told him her name, "Ellyra" and told him that she would be in Absalom if he needed help.

Tabor the slavemaster rushed Salus, having had enough posturing from his former boss. A look of distaste flashed across the tiefling's features as he cut down Tabor with a well placed blow. He gestured to the cages and the remaining slaver opened them to free the captives within, their terror of the swordsman evident.

"That one, then go." Salus ordered, pointing to the one with the wasps.
The slaver unlatched the cage that the wasps seemed to be emerging from and ran. From the cage emerged a slender arm, and the delicate face that followed had not changed in the years since Salus had last seen it.

"Hello Elly," Salus offered a hand to his one time savior.
As Ellyra came into the light grasping his arm Salus could not help but think of his last great ritual, that one had not conjured power but destroyed it. The loss of his powers of darkness had let Salus Tywynnu step for the first time into the light.

1. He basically hit himself with a ritualized energy drain, going from big scary gate using master villain to low level adventurer in one fell swoop, he uses his sorc spells in addition to his paladin abilities however his spells known (and future spells known) are now more geared to Transmutation, Divination, and Abjuration than Necromancy, Evocation, and Illusion.

2.His biggest problem in society is less that he is a tiefling and more that he is a Chelish tiefling, casts his birth in a very particular light. He faces other difficulties because people knew him as a potentially world ending terror and while not all recognize him its enough to get him in trouble. He tends to rely on favors from people he has helped out to live from day to day, currently he has been hanging around the nicer members of the local temple of Calistria thanks to his contact Ellyra. He faces a fair bit a prejudice from those that don't know him but the whole shining beacon of goodness thing tends to keep the most overt of it at bay. Physically his most off-putting features are yellow wolf-like eyes, he also has a faint smell of incense coming off him near constantly and his joints seem to move just a bit too far. His hair is naturally gray and he keeps it a bit on the long side, it tends to remind people of the fur around a wolf's throat and neck. He stands taller than most but tends to hunch in a predatory stance. His fingernails are more like claws than human nails and rarely used for combat. Age-wise he is past ninety, so is relatively young for a tiefling. He dresses in Chellish reds and blacks but can occassionally be seen in the colors of Sarenrae or Desna, he doesn't follow any one diety but the themes of redemption and beauty both appeal to him. He also can occassionally be seen at the temple of Abadar, priests there have helped him craft his code. He tends not to get along well with Iomedians or followers of Erastil, the former because they tend to remember what he was and seek to bring him to justice for it where the latter disapprove of his more colorful associates, so he tries to avoid their colors so as not to insult them.

2 small daggers