Mayakiana's page

Race/Type: Elf
Alignment: CN
Size: Medium
Speed: 30 ft
Languages: Elven, Common, Celestial, Aklo, Draconic
Darkvision: 60 feet
Light Sensativity: Dazzled in areas of bright light or within the radius of a daylight spell
Dazzled: takes a –1 penalty on attack rolls and sight-based Perception checks.
Desert Runner: Some elves thrive in the deepest deserts, forever roaming across burned and parched lands. Elves with this racial trait receive a +4 racial bonus on Constitution checks and Fortitude saves to avoid fatigue, exhaustion, or ill effects from running, forced marches, starvation, thirst, or hot or cold environments. This racial trait replaces elven magic.

Height: 5'10"
Weight: 108 lbs
Hair Color: Silver
Eye Color: Silver

13 Str
18 Dex (+2Racial)
12 Con (-2 Racial)
16 Int (+2 Racial)
12 Wis
14 Cha

HP: 9
AC: 10=10 + 2 + 4
Saves: Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +1
Misc Bonus: Immune to magic sleep effects and gain a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells and effects
BAB: +0
Attack: Shortsword +1 (1d6+1) Longbow (ranged) +4(+5 PB) (1d8) Dagger +1 (1d4+1)

Orphaned: You grew up separated from your birth parents, and had to learn to watch out for yourself. You gain a +1 trait bonus on Survival checks, and Survival is always a class skill for you.

Pragmatic Activator: While some figure out how to use magical devices with stubborn resolve, your approach is more pragmatic. You may use your Intelligence modifier when making Use Magic Device checks instead of your Charisma modifier.

Point Blank Shot

Rank + Mod + Trained bonus + Misc
8 Acrobatics (Dex) 1 + 4 +3
7 Appraise (Int) 1 + 3 +3
6 Bluff (Cha) 1 + 2 +3
1 Climb (Str) 0 + 1 + 0
3 Craft (Int) 0 + 3 + 0
6 Diplomacy (Cha) 1 + 2 + 3
8 Disable Device (Dex) 1 + 4 + 3
2 Disguise (Cha) 0 + 2 + 0
4 Escape Artist (Dex) 0 + 1 + 0
2 Intimidate (Cha) 0 + 2 + 0
7 Knowledge (dungeoneering) (Int) 1 + 3 + 3
7 Knowledge (local) (Int) 1 + 3 + 3
3 Linguistics (Int) 0 + 3 + 0 + 0
7 Perception (Wis) 1 + 1 + 3 + 2
2 Perform (Cha) 0 + 2 + 0
1 Profession (Wis) 0 + 1 + 0
5 Sense Motive (Wis) 1 + 1 + 3
4 Sleight of Hand (Dex) 0 + 4 + 0
8 Stealth (Dex) 1 + 4 + 3
3 Survival (Wis) 1 + 1 + 0 + 1
1 Swim (Str) 0 + 1 + 0
8 Use Magic Device (Int) 1 + 3 + 3

Sneak Attack: 1d6
Trapfinding: A rogue adds 1/2 her level to Perception skill checks made to locate traps and to Disable Device skill checks (minimum +1). A rogue can use Disable Device to disarm magic traps.

Longbow w/ 60 Arrows
Leather Armor
Shortsword
2 Daggers
Rogue’s kit

In every story it talks about fighters suiting up for a big battle and how their armor gleamed or glowed. A breastplate that reflected the sun’s light, a shield bearing their symbol that was as strong as the earth, hard boots that the mere sound of their approach put fear in the heart of evil. I was always enamored of those scenes as the bards would tell them. Everyone always envisioned the good guy being a knight or companion of a knight as this man or woman in gleaming armor. A hero is someone who stands on the field fighting and defeating the bad guy with honor.

Well, I guess that means I will never be a hero. I do suit up before my battles, but my armor is anything but shiny. It is a dark brown that is almost a red black that does anything but shine. Light seems to be absorbed when you look at it. I put on soft boots that soften my foot falls and gloves that only expose three fingers to the air. I don’t go strolling onto a battlefield where I can be seen or have a shield to help protect me. That would only hinder what I am good at. See, I am never considered a hero but evil still trembles at the thought of me being called. I am never seen, and I am never heard but my strikes are true. My symbol is one thing, always found in the body of the guilty when they are found. A single black arrow marking the fact someone called a curse down on this man or woman for their evil deeds.

I have learned that to truly defeat evil, you can’t always meet it head on. You have to know it inside and out. Walk the path it does and then master that path so you may better hunt it. So, while many true heroes conquer evil, so will I, in my own way. Only known as the Curse, I continue to hunt and deliver just vengeance to those that come to my attention.

Now, her sister was gone and she was here, why she came or how she got here she doesn’t know. Just the nagging feeling she was following something or someone filling her.

“So are you sure you are ready for this,” Asked a voice in my head as my gloves slid on.

“You know I am. 100 yard shot through six other priests before the ritual is complete, just as he raises the knife. Simple and clean, one arrow, one death. If the other’s discover me then they to shall die. Evidence will be given to town law officials and the witness returned to them.”

“So clinical and cold you are. I love this side of you. Always so focused.” A giggle filled my head and I picked up my bow and slung it on my back, unstrung.

This was another curse that had been called on a local judge of all things. He had put a woman’s husband on trail and had him hung. The woman called on the curse believing her husband was innocent. In the end he wasn’t but I had discovered that this judge was behind the kidnapping of local women and homeless for nefarious purposes. Many were used for torture practice while the women were used in ritual sacrifices.

Tonight another ritual would happen and his guard would be down. Also, a woman’s life was on the line. Six other’s had joined the judges cabal and by the remains of previous rituals we had gathered he was building up rituals to summon a demon. Why did people always try to summon those wretched things? Almost no one that ever succeeded survived for long afterwards. None survived with their soul intact either. Though there were probably exceptions like with everything.

This wasn’t just any demon he was trying to summon either. It was a Balor, a general in one of the Great Evil’s army. They were the nasty sort and had a penchant for causing all kinds of trouble. Having traveled to hell once I did not fancy meeting another any time soon, but that is a story for another time.

Sliding out of the window to the room I was occupying, I jumped down the ten feet to the ground below. My form a shadow amongst the shadows, my footsteps just part of the wind as it passed your ears. I passed the night watchmen as he made his rounds blessedly unaware of my presence. A night rat or night cat here or there was plying their trades to the passerby as I headed towards the ally door that would lead me into the warehouse.

Checking the door I saw the glittering dust of a magic ward. These things were always tricky but this one was sloppily made. After more examination it was bypassed with a little bit of water and a quick breath disrupting the magic that held it there. Opening the lock was a piece of cake and I slid in stealthily. This room was occupied by an individual but his back was to the door and he was snoring happily.

Moving on I let him sleep and pressed into the main part of the warehouse. Guards were walking the catwalks above but I had studied their patterns and I had a good idea how to move through the warehouse. I continued to do so only having to pause once as one turned a little early.

On this side the main office wasn’t locked so sliding into there was easy and moving the rug to get to the secret door just as easy. This one was warded with a physical and magical trap but even soon that was disabled.

“You’re so boring when you don’t talk.” Whined the voice in her head.

With a smile she replied. “I am focusing on getting past magical wards.”

“Oh, those are child’s play for you…. Hurry up his preparations are boring and I am tired of hiding here. People never look up so it’s so much easier to hide but it is so boring.”

Maya sighed softly and shook her head. “You are invisible so why are you complaining. You wanted to be there early to disrupt his magics if it came to that.”

She could feel the pout coming from the other voice as she made her way down a hallway that soon led into a small black market storage maze. Left, right, up, up, down, four lefts and a secret door later she was in the massive cavern that was a good two miles away from town. Looking into the cavern she noticed they weren’t here yet. Good she was early. She climbed up the wall and onto the ledge that the voice was waiting at. It was a raven sitting there looking at her.

“’Bout time slow poke. Did you bring any food.” She just smiled and handed her some bread. Her constant companion through life, her sister ate the bread happily.

Pulling out her bow she would string it and would study the terrain in the cavern picking her spot. It wasn’t long before the men entered from another entrance dragging a woman who was kicking, screaming, and sobbing calling them murderers and cowards. The men just took her to the altar and tied her down using straps they had made for such an occasion.

They made the preparations for the ritual and she watched as they did various wards and the like her sister giggling from time to time at seeing them go up. As midnight approached the men took their places and their leader finally came in checking everything before moving to his head position.

Her sister nodded and lifted her wings ready to undo their protective wards but the timing had to be right.

The words slipping from his mouth were the right ones for the ritual so he knew what he was doing. It helped knowing the infernal language he was speaking. Soon she drew back her bow and aimed as he moved towards the altar. Just as the knife lifted the wards disappeared as her sisters wings came down. Before the knife could make its downswing and the men lifted their voices to alert their leader the arrowhead was buried deep into his back the shaft through his heart, leaving only the silver fletching visible. He fell back just as their voices finished their alert and the ritual, now interrupted unleashed its magics back at the casters. She had chosen the right moment. Any earlier, the woman’s life would have been forfeit.

The sound of her screams and their filled the cavern and she waited patiently. Not even ten minutes later the woman was whimpering on the stone floor, free from her bonds, when the local constable came in the door she had. The woman had never seen the ones that freed her, only heard a knock and the shackles open. Part of the reason she had come in the way she did was to make it safe for the constable and his men to make it here. They stared at horror at the scene before them. Five men their bodies still smoking as magic lashed at their skin and the sixth their leader, his true form identified as the local judge with horns…possibly teifling heritage he had hidden laid by the alter knife in hand and arrow in chest.

When everything is done she would follow them out. One less evil inhabited the world and the only clue she was there was that single mysterious arrow.