About Lucilianus "Luke" CaradocAppearance:
Although a raucous lifestyle has provided him with a healthy tan - doubly so since arriving in the desert lands of Osirion - Luke isn't too hard to pick out in any local tavern. Clearly a foreigner in dress, right down to the classic Taldan longsword at his side, his height of 6-foot-something makes him all the more conspicuous. That same height coupled with a handsome jawline render the young man not unattractive, even if Luke isn't half the charmer his bright eyes promise. With his perpetual stubble, roguish smile and brown hair just a bit too wild for polite society, he may look like a mother-in-law's nightmare. However, he is also just a bit too affably boyish to star in younger women's dreams of the bad boy. Instead he treads a narrow middle ground, perhaps the strait-laced librarian's guilty pleasure. Background:
Ancient Osirion has fascinated many across Golarion throughout the years and naturally so. The sand-blasted remains of the millennia-old civilization, all towering obelisks and grand temples, are only eclipsed by the imagination they inspire, the image of a civilization at its peak brought low. With the possible exception of its home country, nowhere does the fervour for this bygone age run hotter than in Taldor, a society detractors jeer as itself beyond its peak. There, Osirionology is high fashion for many, bordering on mania. The very idea of the Osirion that was invokes spirited, if taboo, discussions on imperial decline in the decadent nation. Relics, entire buildings are imported and reconstructed, there for sirs to gawk at with an overpriced cup of tea from the in-house café while madams prance about in petticoats adorned with scarab brooches.
Of course, what some would call ‘importing’ others would call ‘stealing’. Modern Osirion still being a young and vulnerable nation, freshly revived from its Qadiran occupation, it is still vulnerable to preying from older and more established powers. There are undeniably more than a few Taldan noble coffers heavy with Osirian gold. The respectable Caradoc family has more than a few such coffers, although the value of their contents is more so historical than monetary. A fact soon to weigh heavily on their youngest heir. Their patriarch, an esteemed museum director, took on the new fashion of Osirionology with aplomb, filling both his displays and home with pharaonic ephemera. His enthusiasm was either shared or supported by colleagues, spouse and children excepting one: his youngest son, Lucilianus. As typical a boy who ever lived, he never showed the slightest inclination for his family’s academic avocations, instead pursuing such interests as tree climbing, very fast horses, girls and carousing, in that order. A tall, handsome youth in possession of more wit than smarts, his became a life of late-night hijinks and later mornings' regrets. A good life for any lad. All of which screeched to a halt when his father ran afoul of the mummy’s curse. It was a popular enough story, of course, that of the sarcophagi warded by a baleful hex there to blight whoever dared disturb its occupant. Lucilianus – ‘Luke’ to his more lowly friends – never put much stock in such tales. Who would care enough about corpses to protect them with traps and magic? Well, the Ancient Osirians cared, and the proof was evident to see in his father, supernaturally withering after encountering the spiteful curse of a mummy. The exact account is hardly worth telling; Luke certainly didn't care for the details. What mattered was that the Caradoc patriarch's latest acquisition - a sarcophagus containing some long dead noble or another - had afflicted him most terribly when opened, seemingly accelerating his aging. His mortal coil aged years within the following days, and this was the horror his helpless family had to endure witnessing. For the next week they saw the poor man grow steadily older whilst feebly trying to rally the resources to cure him, to find a priest to undo the curse. Sadly, Osirionology had damned the man in more ways than one. For it was no affordable hobby, and the family's coffers were now revealed to be dangerously drained. In fact, they owed a substantial amount to the Abadaran church. Before any other solution could be found, the proverbial sands of time ran out. Luke's father died in his bed looking nothing so much like the mummy he had so offended. In the wake of this tragedy, the dire straits of the family became clear. And with most of his other siblings having families of their own to support, a newly galvanized Luke took it upon himself to remedy the house's debt. Some years later, this is where we find him now, a treasure hunter. Always the black sheep, Luke utilizes the same predilection for ancient history as his mother and siblings to amass funds, but where they work in academia, he ransacks digs sites and tombs for antiques and relics. And he's particularly pleased with his latest target. An Osirian necropolis never before opened to explorers? It almost feels like destiny. How perfectly appropriate for the son to save the family with ill-gotten gains dug up from the very same sandbox that damned the father. Why, the long dead pharaohs practically owe him this, the miserable old bastards. Personality:
You may gather from the backstory that it is a more spiteful Lucilianus Caradoc who sets out for Wati than the carefree upper-middleclass lout that was, one hardened by a few forays into murky old tombs and murkier black-market dealings. Is this animosity towards an ancient civilization that never knew him irrational? Of course it is and Luke knows it. While no intellectual, the young man is not half as dumb as he likes to pretend; he understands that there is no justice in grave robbing. But dwelling on his own loss only makes it that much weightier, and dammit all, having someone to blame feels good - anyone but himself, the prodigal son who perhaps could have been there for his father. There is a guilty conscience behind the cynicism and snark Luke now shields himself in. It is what keeps him from slipping into his old life as a rake, even if a full day’s spelunking surely entitles a dutiful tomb raider the simple pleasure of drink, good conversation and perhaps a nice girl or two. Yes, surely. Stat block:
Lucilianus "Luke" Caradoc
Male human Ranger 1 (Fortune Finder/Code Runner) 22 Years of Age CG medium humanoid [human] Init +5; Senses - Perception +5 -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14 (+4 armor, +3 Dex) HP 11 (1d10 + 1 Con mod) Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +1 -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. Weapon: longsword [PA applied], +4 attack (1d8+9/19-20), S Weapon: unarmed [PA applied], +4 attack (1d6+6), B Weapon: sling [DA applied], +3 (1d4+6), B -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 18 (+4), Dex 16 (+3), Con 13 (+1), Int 8 (-1), Wis 12 (+1), Cha 13 (+1) Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 18 [+2 vs grapple, trip, disarm, dirty trick, feint, reposition, steal] Feats: Deft Maneuvers, Unarmed Combatant Traits: Foreign Opportunist [+2 Appraise; market opportunities], Armor Expert [-1 armor check penalty], Reactionary [+2 initiative] Skills [6 class, -1 Int, 1 skilled bonus; armor penalty not applied]: Climb +9, Know (local) +3, Perception +5, Ride +7, Stealth +7, Swim +9 B. skills: Appraise +5, Linguistics +3 Languages: Common (Taldane), Halfling -------------------- Wealth [started with max for class, 300 gp] -------------------- Combat Gear: club, dagger, longsword, sling with 10 bullets, lamellar (leather) armor Other Gear: backpack with crowbar, flint & steel, grappling hook, rope, torches (x8), trail rations (x2), waterskin, whetstone + shaving kit, alchemist's fire, tanglefoot bag, potion of Cure Light Wounds, smog smoke pellet, talisman of beneficial winds Weight: 80.5/100 lbs. Coin: 0.6 gp -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Class: favored enemy (undead), hinterlander, mnemonic genius Racial: bonus feat; skilled Hero points: 1 Hinterlander (Ex)
Mnemonic Genius (Ex)
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