About Malachi VezivoCharacter Sheet:
Male Human shaman 1 Archetypes True Silvered Throne LN Medium humanoid (human) Init +0, Senses Perception +4 ================================================= DEFENSE ================================================= AC 16, touch 10, flat-footed 16 (+6 armor, ) hp 8 ((1d8)) Fort +0, Ref +0, Will +6 =================================================
Prepared Spells
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Eye for Talent: Humans have great intuition for hidden potential. They gain a +2 racial bonus on Sense Motive checks. In addition, when they acquire an animal companion, bonded mount, cohort, or familiar, that creature gains a +2 bonus to one ability score of the character’s choice. This racial trait replaces the bonus feat trait. Shaman FCB: Add one spell from the cleric spell list that isn’t on the shaman spell list to the list of spells the shaman knows. This spell must be at least 1 level below the highest spell level the shaman can cast.
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Lore Spirit (Su) A shaman forms a mystical bond with the spirits of the world. She forms a lasting bond with a single spirit, which grants a number of abilities and defines many of her other class features. If the shaman takes levels in another class that grants a mystery (such as the oracle), the spirit and mystery must match, even if that means one of them must change. Subject to GM discretion, the shaman can change her former mystery or spirit to make them conform.
Occult Grimoire (Ex): A true silvered throne’s divine magic arises from communion with spirits alongside study of archaic lore compiled into a personal occult grimoire. Unlike a wizard’s spellbook, this grimoire doesn’t contain specific spells. By studying his grimoire, a true silvered throne can prepare any spell on the shaman spell list or provided by his spirit. If this grimoire is lost or destroyed, he cannot prepare new spells or use his spirit magic class feature until it is replaced, which requires 1 week of work. This ability replaces spirit animal. Spirit Magic: A shaman can spontaneously cast a limited number of spells per day beyond those she prepared ahead of time. She has one spell slot per day of each shaman spell level she can cast, not including orisons. She can choose these spells from the list of spells granted by her spirits (see the spirit class feature and the wandering spirit class feature) at the time she casts them. She can enhance these spells using any metamagic feat that she knows, using up a higher-level spell slot as required by the feat and increasing the time to cast the spell (see Spontaneous Casting and Metamagic Feats on page 113 of the Core Rulebook). =================================================
+=Class Skill, *=Trained Only Ranks will go into Bluff, Diplomacy, Knowledge (Arcana), Sense Motive, Spellcraft, with one floater
Backstory pt 1:
"Come now," said the man. A professor of some sort. The child gave a shuddering sigh and turned away from the wreckage of his former home.
"I'll have my men collect what can be saved," the Professor said kindly. The child nodded, eyes dim and vacant. --- Your father was a very persuasive man. The adolescent's eyes went wide as he stumbled away from the large, ornate tome. He looked around wildly, but heard and saw nothing else. It would take him almost a month of preparation and planning before he would touch the book again. --- My studies are going well sir. Already the draft of my essay on the similarities and symmetry between alchemical symbology and psychic manifestations is being passed around. My colleague from the Stone of the Seers says that it is quite comprehensive. I had hoped to get your opinion as well. An annotation from the great Professor Lorrimor can only add to its veracity after all! I eagerly anticipate your response. Very Respectfully
--- Masks are more than just symbols. They're more than just representations. The are abjuration, illusion, and transmutation all together. Now tell me, what is the psychic significance of such a concept? "The Principle of the True Name. Identity holds power over manifestation. While Quintessence holds less power than a True Name, representation of an Identity can still be used in many useful magics, particularly abjurative and divinative, but also conjuration, though to a lesser extent," the man replied will little hesitation, staring at the deceptively ornate mask on his desk. --- "So the professor is finally dead," the masked man said to the empty room. You had a great fondness for him. "Yes. You, him, and my parents. Were it not for you all, who would I be?" I wonder. He read the letter again. "You're the only one left," he said. Fear not. There are few things in all existence that could tear me from you now. "Hm. Well. Let us go pay our respects." Backstory pt 2:
What exactly did you expect? "Well, certainly more than this," Malachi said, hefting the disappointingly small promissory note. Your father made a number of powerful enemies. It is surprising that you received anything at all. "I name dropped the Professor enough, and my academic record is more than acceptable," he complained. The slight young man weaved his way out of the small crowd in the bank's lobby, eyes darting back and forth as he mumbled quietly to himself. After the "unexplained" destruction of him home and death of his parents, he had been in governmental foster care for a few weeks while waiting for word from his uncle. His mother's brother was a kind enough man, though his heartbreak over the loss of his sister made him become somewhat distant and withdrawn whenever he saw Malachi. This bothered Malachi little though, as Astiela provided him all the company he could ever desire and more. He was of course achieving good marks in his classes, though given the limited nature of education in Barstoi, where hard work and military service were much more highly valued, that wasn't as impressive as it might otherwise have been. Regardless, between his minor nobility, his obvious cleverness, and liberally name dropping Professor Lorrimor, he had received a decent scholarship to the University of Lepidstadt. Between the magical tutoring from Astiela and the mortal instruction at the university, he was reasonably confident that he should have no great difficulty with any career he so chose. After finally exiting the bank he quickly leapt into his carriage and ordered the driver back to his uncle's manor. Like most minor nobles, his uncle was a former knight in service to Count Neska. He had been granted ownership of one of the salt mines in the county as a reward for exemplary service, and had been slowly but consistently profiting from it ever since. He, like most in that county, was a serious, hard-working man, though he was considerably less closed off than most of the rest of the population. This was most likely due to the influence of his wife, who was an exceedingly warm and caring individual, possessing great skill both at being the lady of the house, and at mothering her three children. Malachi considered his cousins to be rather boring individuals (particularly when compared to the endlessly knowledgeable voice in his mind), and so while he retained all politeness and cordiality with them, he only interacted as was required, and otherwise avoided them. The carriage ride back to his uncles manor was long, and he spent most of it attempting to interact with the spirits he could detect along the way. So far he had had very little success with his endeavors, though Astiela assured him this was less due to his capability, and more due to his lack of maturity. He was not entirely sold on this, unsure why a mostly non-sentient bit of quintessence would care about his level of development, but he accepted it nonetheless. Astiela continually encouraged him to study his father's grimoire, and he happily did so, though despite his enthusiasm much of it was still far beyond him. But Astiela was an invaluable resource, and had several times told him that despite his apparent lack of success that he was still proceeding far faster than his father had before him. The fact that this was mostly due to the disembodied devil's tutelage and the groundwork already laid by his father in the grimoire would not occur to him until far later in his life. For now though, he accepted the praise and continually delved into his studies. Finally the carriage returned to the manor, and he exited, hurrying to his room to file away the note so that it would not get lost. "Malachi! The Lady would like to speak with you in the library, if you would," Evangaline, his aunt's maid, called to him from the balcony. "Of course," he replied, nodding to her as he continued up the stairs. He went to his room, put the note in his lockbox, and then left for the library. "That didn't take long," his aunt said upon seeing him, "Did everything go well?" "Yes, m'lady," he said, nodding, "Not as much as I night have liked, but enough at least to cover the basics." "Oh excellent!" she gushed, smoothing his hair and patting his cheek. "I'm so proud of you!" she beamed. He shifted, somewhat uncomfortable. While his aunt did not overtly attempt to become more of a mother figure to him, she was a naturally loving person, very different from the cool, detached attention he was accustomed to from Astiela. He was still unsure about receiving his aunts simple, straight-forward affection. "Thank you m'lady," he replied. His aunt sighed at his formality. "We shall have to have a celebration!" she said cheerily. He struggled to hold back his own sigh. "Yes m'lady." Backstory pt 3:
I once again felt the itching tingle in my mind, and gritted my teeth in frustration. They seemed to be getting more and more frequent, though I’m not sure if that’s because I was getting better at resisting, or more were happening. Astiela had been useful in suggesting various aids, incenses and teas and the like, and I had even stolen some money to smuggle in a highly recommended drug from Numeria that was most effective, but I couldn’t do all those things continuously. I had deduced that it was most likely members of the Order, checking on me to make sure I wasn’t following in the same footsteps as my father. Which, while rude and irritating, wouldn’t have been a problem normally, except that I… well I was. And I could absolutely not risk Astiela being discovered. That would be pretty much a death sentence. They had already killed my parents. I’m sure they would be more than willing to kill me. I also couldn’t palate the thought that my aunt and uncle might get caught in it as well. I had thought that I could simply be a recluse, staying in and avoiding the public, and thus any Order members. However, between attempting to get into University and my aunts well-meaning attempts to socialize me, I was unable to avoid them. Tonight, for instance, was my acceptance party. My aunt (and to a more reserved extent my uncle) was distressingly pleased and excited that I had been not only accepted, but received a scholarship to study at the University. To celebrate, she had invited a number of people who were either intellectuals or connected in such circles. Which of course meant that there were probably at least half a dozen Order members in the manor tonight. After the introductions, and mingling, and speeches, and finally food, my aunt finally became distracted enough for me to slip away from her. I was not, however, unnoticed enough to avoid one of the other guests though. “Good evening Lord Vezivo,” a man said as I was passing though the library on my way to my room. I vaguely recognized him. Count Ismit Astiela whispered in my mind. You met in Ravengro, at Professor Lorrimor’s lecture on negative and positive energies and their planes. I still didn’t remember him, but I had never had cause to doubt Astiela before. “Count Ismit,” I said, nodding. “Please accept my congratulations on your acceptance and scholarship,” he said, “Tell me, what do you think you will be studying?” He was fishing. If only I knew what for. Merely gauging your culpability. Hm. We conversed back and forth for a few moments, with me getting more and more nervous. “I just want you to know that you have impressed both me and many others. Your resiliency in spite of your… tragic youth is inspiring. You have caught many eyes, not just the esteemed professor’s. I hope you continue to follow in his noble footsteps, and not dwell on the past.” And there it was. On the surface, to anyone listening, that might seem kind and generous. But his eyes were hard and suspicious, boring into me. He could see the sweat on my brow, and had obviously taken note of how uncomfortable I was with our conversation. He knew. That was a warning. “Of course,” I replied distantly. He nodded, mostly to himself I imagined. “Well now, I suppose I should get back to the hall before my wife begins panicking,” he said, disengaging and returning to the party with a final calculating glance. --- Later that night I paced back and forth in my room, furious and scared. “I don’t know what to do! I just don’t have the resources to keep them away from me!” I raved. Don’t you? Astiela asked. “Um, no? I can only barely summon the meanest of creatures, I have nowhere near the money it would take to get me set up out of country, and my only ally of any significance has been incognito for some time now. What can I do against them?” Stop panicking. Think. What can you do that does not require spells, or money, or allies? I growled in discontent, but stopped pacing and controlled my breathing, settling my mind. “Very well. Better?” I asked, still somewhat mutinous. Marginally she said dryly. Now. What can you do? “I honestly don’t know. I just don’t have the resources.” She sighed. She was disappointed in me. That knowledge did not improve my mood. Page 343 I couldn’t remember off-hand what was on that particular page, so I pulled out my grimoire and turned to it. “Ritual of the Nameless One?” I read the Orisini title. Of course. Just because I couldn’t do much in the way of spellwork didn’t mean I didn’t have magical resources at my disposal. Rituals were a very useful power amplifier, allowing someone with no magical ability to produce magical effects. Of course the downside was that they were often obscure and difficult to perform, but if you could actually find one that had the desired effects, then they could be invaluable. I continued to read, growing continuously less excited as I did so. “That… seems to be a rather steep price…” I said. As you said. You have few enough alternatives. And it is an elegant solution to your problem. I couldn’t really dispute that, aside from the potential side-effects, the ritual did everything I could need. “But… but what about my life? What about University, and my title?” I asked. I find it unlikely that the University, esteemed though I’m sure it is, will be able to teach you much more than I will. And your title is meaningless. You have little money, no lands, and no inheritance. What loss is that? She was right there, I thought bitterly. “But what about my future? I will obviously need funds of some sort. My money won’t last forever. I’d be more or less permanently stuck wearing a mask after that, and that would be difficult in any social context.” More difficult than being dead? Or even just imprisoned? You were not incorrect when you said that you do not have the resources. Make no mistake, they will never leave you alone. You will always be watched. You will always be limited. Unless you get out from under their thumb, then you will live the rest of your life trapped. They will never allow you the resources to do anything unless you submit to them. I sighed and gently banged my head against my desk. There are numerous individuals and groups who would be willing to financially support an expert in various fields, even a mysterious masked one. Perhaps even especially a mysterious masked one. Between us, I might posit that we are experts in various fields. she said. I chuckled. It will of course require a change in mindset, but I do not think it will be quite as limiting as you would think. And there is little enough else that you can do. “But what do I do about my aunt and uncle?” You’ll soon be leaving for University anyway. Simply disappear along the way. Leave behind some small evidence of foul play along the road. Perhaps even a sufficiently burnt limb or something. I grimaced. “Well. I guess I have to…” --- Everything was ready. Mask comleted, circle drawn, sigils detailed, candles lit, incense burning. I had triple checked everything. Astiela agreed that it was all correct. I was nervous. I had never conducted such a long or comlex ritual before. I carefully controlled my breathing as I settled the mask on my face. I was actually rather proud of it. I made it in the style of psychopomp masks, charcoal grey and skull-like, but added a subtle flame motif as well. Astiela had approved of my including my phobia with my mask, and also seemed amused by it for some reason. I didn’t bother inquiring. Eight hours of chanting, gestures, and inhaled incense later, and I felt the ritual coalesce. “I am the Burned Man,” I announced. Astiela sighed. You’re not very creative. “It’s thematic” I defended. Of course I grumbled at her a bit more before clearing my room of all evidence. I had chosen this inn for several reasons. The first is that it was small. The second is that the proprietors were quite wealthy, and did not live in the inn itself, but rather in a small home a few hundred yards away. The third is that on this particular night, there was no one else here. That made my next step easier. With Astiela’s advice, I had discretely purchased a sizable quantity of alchemists fire, as well as a complete human skeleton, and my body weight in pork meat and organs. As it turns out, faking one’s death was surprisingly complicated, and I would have been lost without her assistance. She assured me that a significantly persistent enough inquiry could discover the deception, but against a general investigation it would be more than sufficient. I quickly gathered my belongings, making sure to leave enough of my clothing and books to not look completely bare. I arranged the skeleton and meat on the bed, and then lit the alchemists fire. It is a note of irony, I suppose, that two of the most pivotal events in my life both revolved around mysterious fires.
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