Marek ibn Sabbah's page

Hey folks, DM... Bowing out. Can't quite get the character from concept to character sheet.

Enjoy and thanks!

I suppose talents, which means I've already found them!

Thank you, Sir.

Hi, where do I find Psionic Traits?

Let's try.

Always wanted an Elocator PrC. Psion/Rogue? Mysterious stranger, drifter... Human or Half-Elf.

How world this work? Would be my first PFS. Different characters at different levels?

Crap, I just got one... now, what do I do?! LOL

So, does not getting a c@ll out or not being asked questions mean the character is fine, or don't bother?

Maybe Mug should have a say in the party makeup? Who he'd enjoy being chained to. Just a thought, don't know the guy.

Marek... Tada!

Human Summoner to help herd the kinder.

Checks ears. Did I hear 25pt buy, you can dump 2 attributes and 3 traits?

Level?

Hey folks, bowing out and wishing everyone a great game. Game on !

Will do my best to get character sheet in, if it is a show stopper , so be it .

Like this?

1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + (1) + (2) + (1) = 10
1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + (1) + (6) + (5) = 13
1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + (5) + (4) + (2) = 16
1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + (4) + (5) + (6) = 18
1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + (4) + (6) + (6) = 19
1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + (3) + (5) + (6) = 15

How do we roll, how many times are we allowed to roll? I've never done that here, on this board.

Cerulean March are east of... J/K.

Totally, made up. Background was for a Skull and Shackles campaign recruitment. Created something that sounded like it bordered water, naval force, trade, etc... But, still on the edge of the realm/badlands.

I shamelessly use the Dio "Holy Diver" reference, because I'd always tried to imagine something similar when I heard the song... I know I'm dating myself.

Glad you liked the concept. It's rife with friends, mother (missing, thought to be dead)... enemies, brother (and cronies). Wanting to find him mother, secure her well-being, return home and claim their rightful place thereby protecting and benefiting the people of the Cerulean Marches (their right and duty) regardless of current political situation.

Because it was a Skull and Shackles game, I envisioned him becoming/befirending a pirate captain/force. And, harrying the forces of his brother. Later having negotiated agreements with surrounding and remote "powers" returning home peacefully, but backed by military superiority.

If his charisma/intelligence are higher than his brother's (he's being used as a figurehead by a shadow cabinet)... Maybe the natives/locals will rise in his favor and the return of their beloved queen, as well.

ibn Sabbah (arabic) means Son of the Dawn.

Now, what's to prevent several individuals who are willing to comply to these guidelines from acting as a "party" in the same campaign?

I actually find the more challenging (please read annoying) thing about PbP is that there is no "vested interest" in the sense that the characters are usually put forth as not knowing each other... so they spend most of their time competing (one-up-manship) instead of cooperating.

If we weave 4-5 backgrounds together, and acknowledge a "given" that they are friends the intra-group dynamic should be OK. So long as we adhere to the minimum 1 post a day guideline, pace should be set as well.

That blasphemous nonsense having been put forth, I present...

Marek ibn Sabbah, as a concept.

His father, the Margrave Tarek of the Cerulean Marches was assassinated when Marek was only seven years old. The sadness weighed heavily on his mother Isabelle. Some say it made her visions stronger, some say it led her to not trust them, her most precious birth-right and gift as Oracle.

But, for years she and Marek's older brother Robert managed the affairs of the Cerulean Marches. But, Robert came into his own... made his own polital moves and friends. His mother lost favor.

This is what Marek remembers, along with the last vision she shared with him. It came as a prophecy or a riddle...

Marek did not understand. And Isabelle could not decipher it, save in one manner. "Run, Marek... Run as fast as you can, as far as you can. For me, Marek. I love you, my son... Now, run!"

And, grabbing whatever was at hand... Marek ran, as he heard marching feet coming down the hall. Not yet a man, he ran from everything he knew. He believed in his mother's vision.

And he had nightmares, cold and wet sleeping out of doors. The feeling of being watched. Of someone or something getting closer. Stalking him. And one day, as he washed his face at a stream, he saw his own reflection... and something was on his forehead, a mark.

No one else could see it.

Then there was that night on the docks years after leaving home, when they came for him. No one in particular, just bad men. Cruel men that had chosen them as their quarry. There was nowhere to run, so he hunkered down in the back of the dark alley... praying they'd not find him.

But, they did... and they tortured him by walking slowly into the darkness. And a strange thing happened. His fear slowly turned to anger and rage... But, it was not "his" nature.

The rage swelled and he felt that very familiar and unsettling feeling of being watched, followed... stalked. But, it was not "them". Yet, as they approached he screamed with his soul into the moonlit sky that barely lit the alley.

And, from above him came the most glorious thing he could imagine. For that is exactly where it came from after years of forming, his very imagination.

It had feline eyes, and a near ursine body... all black, with silvery teeth and claws with that same mark he'd seem upon his own brow on its forehead. That unmistakable sigil. Snarling as it circled for position and silent in it's strike, it was seconds until all the men were laid low.

And them the beast turned to come for him.

He remembered his mother's words then, as he slipped into oblivion.

"Shiny diamonds. Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue. Something is coming for you..." He had never thought it was coming to save him.

I'm just hoping he wants to see how I'd handle a Summoner differently that he may handle his. Or he's a fan of Dio, from way back.

Wasn't sure if the Holy Diver prophecy was cheesey or apropos for a soul-searching young Summoner with a felin-esque eidolon on a hopefully introspective seafaring adventure.

Is anyone else thinking crow's nest for the Tengu? Sorry... someone had to say it (hopefully I didn't miss it).

On that note, do we all level together... or are there individual merits that allow us to level sooner/later?

I understand some feel this creates a rift in XP, and could create a rift in power level (from character to character). Just wondering how you play it...

Lastly, understanding that deciphering the DM's request for info is part of the "test", and your instructions are rather clear... But, do you need anything else from Marek, the Summoner to properly evaluate him as a candidate?

Thanks!

This would be my first PbP here.

The Cerulean Marches are thus named because they border the sea and command a small but tactical port and a long swath of beach.

Skills: Craft (Ships), Profession (Sailor), Swim.

One day, Marek aims to find out what happened to his mother and return to the Cerulean Marches.

If he were to join the crew of a ship, he'd be happy to maintain the vessel and lead the away/boarding team... wanting no part in politics or power-plays.

His father, the Margrave Tarek of the Cerulean Marches was assassinated when Marek was only seven years old. The sadness weighed heavily on his mother Isabelle. Some say it made her visions stronger, some say it led her to not trust them, her most precious birth-right and gift as Oracle.

But, for years she and Marek's older brother Robert managed the affairs of the Cerulean Marches. But, Robert came into his own... made his own polital moves and friends. His mother lost favor.

This is what Marek remembers, along with the last vision she shared with him. It came as a prophecy or a riddle...

Marek did not understand. And Isabelle could not decipher it, save in one manner. "Run, Marek... Run as fast as you can, as far as you can. For me, Marek. I love you, my son... Now, run!"

And, grabbing whatever was at hand... Marek ran, as he heard marching feet coming down the hall. Not yet a man, he ran from everything he knew. He believed in his mother's vision.

And he had nightmares, cold and wet sleeping out of doors. The feeling of being watched. Of someone or something getting closer. Stalking him. And one day, as he washed his face at a stream, he saw his own reflection... and something was on his forehead, a mark.

No one else could see it.

Then there was that night on the docks years after leaving home, when they came for him. No one in particular, just bad men. Cruel men that had chosen them as their quarry. There was nowhere to run, so he hunkered down in the back of the dark alley... praying they'd not find him.

But, they did... and they tortured him by walking slowly into the darkness. And a strange thing happened. His fear slowly turned to anger and rage... But, it was not "his" nature.

The rage swelled and he felt that very familiar and unsettling feeling of being watched, followed... stalked. But, it was not "them". Yet, as they approached he screamed with his soul into the moonlit sky that barely lit the alley.

And, from above him came the most glorious thing he could imagine. For that is exactly where it came from after years of forming, his very imagination.

It had feline eyes, and a near ursine body... all black, with silvery teeth and claws with that same mark he'd seem upon his own brow on its forehead. That unmistakable sigil. Snarling as it circled for position and silent in it's strike, it was seconds until all the men were laid low.

And them the beast turned to come for him.

He remembered his mother's words then, as he slipped into oblivion.

"Shiny diamonds. Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue. Something is coming for you..." He had never thought it was coming to save him.