Naberius, "Blast"'s page

Weapons
Cestus
Daggers, 3

Armor
Leather armor

Other Gear
Pickpocket's outfit
Belt pouch
--Assorted junk (rusty nails, marbles, bits of wood and stone) for kinetic blasts
Potions of cure light wounds, 2
Pocketed scarf
Signet ring

Money
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Tiefling Racial Features
Darkvision: Blast can see perfectly in the dark up to 60 feet.
Fiendish Resistance: Blast has resistance 5 to cold, electricity, and fire damage.
Prehensile Tail: Blast can use his tail to retrieve small objects stowed on his person as a swift action.
Skilled: Blast has a +2 racial bonus on Bluff and Stealth checks.
Spell-like Ability: Blast can use darkness once a day as a spell-like ability with a caster level equal to his class level.

Kineticist Class Features
Burn: Blast can overchannel his power and take points of burn; each point deals 1 nonlethal damage to him, and this damage cannot be recovered except from a full night's rest, although that rest removes all nonlethal damage from burn. He cannot choose to accept more than 1 point of burn per round, and cannot elect to have more than 6 burn points total.
Elemental Focus: Blast has control over aether, and is a telekineticist.
Kinetic Blast: Blast can unleash his power in a blast that targets a foe within 30 feet. He needs at least one hand or prehensile appendage free to aim his telekinetic blast, which lifts a single object weighing 5 pounds or less as a ranged attack. If it hits, both the target and the object take 1d6+4 points of bludgeoning, piercing, or slashing damage. Spell resistance does not apply against this attack, and all damage it deals counts as magical for overcoming damage reduction. Alternatively, he can use this ability to deal damage as though he had thrown the object himself, using Constitution instead of Strength for damage if applicable, ignoring the normal -4 penalty for throwing inappropriate weapons, and using the weapon's normal damage and abilities; however, he must be proficient with the weapon in question.
Wild Talents
-Infusion Talents
--Extended Range: Blast's kinetic blasts have a range of 120 feet.
-Utility Talents
--Basic Telekinesis: This ability functions similarly to mage hand, but it can lift up to 5 pounds, has a range of 120 feet, can move objects up to 30 feet per round, can move magical objects, can twist to create a container that holds liquids or small objects, and can function as open/close.

When the Demon Lord Naberius, fiendish patron of the arts and all manner of scientific and arcane thought, decided to have a go at corrupting Cheliax, he set his sights on the long game. The decision to toy with the infernal empire and cause grief to Asmodeus was not a light one, and Naberius knew it would take cunning and careful planning to pull it off. So he didn't start grand or make any overt attempts at the country: instead he fathered a child in Absalom, granting a fleeting favor to the sorcerer foolish enough to call on him in return for siring the half-fiend on the man's daughter, and watched his plans unfold.

Naberius Alkovan the First, the half-fiend child, grew up on Absalom's streets, running errands for his grandfather and learning about magic and the world around him. The boy showed an uncanny knack for strange magic, of a kind rarely seen in the world, and the sorcerer tried to make sense of this development as best he could. But when the child's father appeared to him on his seventeenth birthday, he was terrified--and when the demon lord demanded of him servitude for his purposes, he fled. Naberius Alkovan made his way north, but only got as far as Cheliax before he ran out of money and went into hiding. Pretending to be merely a tiefling, he lived in the slums of Westcrown, working as a lowly servant at one of the city's taverns.

After two years of this, he had made a small place for himself, and had even formed a small family--a wife and a son, who he named after himself. But the peace could not last, as Naberius was vengeful, and late one night the half-fiend was killed by a nabasu assassin. The crime went uninvestigated and unsolved, and the mother raised her tiefling son as best as she could, although she died by the time the infant who would become Blast was seven.

The tiefling child was raised in the tavern for a few years after that, working as a serving boy and errand runner for the establishment's owner, a human man who was accepting, though a tough taskmaster. The child learned from an early age to remain quiet and inconspicuous as much as possible, doing as he was told and drawing as little attention to himself as he could. After all, he was a demon-blooded tiefling living in Cheliax, and there was little way to conceal his fiendish heritage. He did his best to stay out of trouble, but often would draw exclamations from the tavernmaster, who nicknamed the child "Blast" after his most common outcry at the tiefling's antics.

It was also clear from a young age that Blast was an odd child and had inherited some of his father's strange magical abilities. By the time he was ten, Blast could be found staring intently at balls rolling apparently of their own accord in the alley behind the tavern. At eleven, he often took his meals entirely without using his hands, lifting the food and cup to his mouth with his mind, and he did as many chores as possible in a similar manner. The other employees had mixed feelings--some thought it entertaining and interesting, some saw it as demonic witchcraft. The owner thought it harmless, but always warned the boy to keep it secret from customers.

One night when Blast was twelve, however, it all came crashing down. A particularly raucous and spiteful man who had been frequenting the tavern of late got deep in his cups and began remarking loudly on how those with fiendish blood ought to be dealt with in Cheliax. Blast was unfortunately the only server that night, and as he walked past the gentleman's table, he grabbed the child's tail and asked for a knife to cut it off. Blast struggled to escape but the man's friends held him, and he looked to the owner, who watched helplessly from the bar. As the man raised the knife, Blast finally snapped, letting out a loud cry of rage and yanking one arm in a fruitless slap at the air.

Then a clay pitcher of hot cider smashed into the man's face, slashing his flesh and burning his skin. He dropped the knife with a shout, his friends let go of the tiefling, and Blast fell to the floor, as shocked s the rest of the tavern. Then the wounded man let out a violent scream and lunged for him, but Blast was already running.

Blast made his way into the streets, knowing he couldn't return to the tavern--not after scarring a customer and revealing his powers to the patrons. He curled up on in an alley and slept, wondering what he would do from there. The next months were difficult, as he did his best to find shelter from the shadows at night and survive. Although he tried to be honest as he could, Blast soon fell to crime, using his talents to covertly steal food as necessary from hiding. It was during one such outing that Blast found himself surrounded from behind by a few other urchins, wide-eyed with wonder at his mystical thievery. They discussed what he had done briefly before inviting him to speak with their leader, and one afternoon and a few displays of telekineticism later, Blast had joined his first gang of thieves.

The next years were interesting and eventful, with Blast soon proving to be a fine addition to the group. Though not the strongest or most perceptive among the thieves, and still jumpy and anxious from his time at the tavern, Blast was both quick and hardy, and his ability to manipulate objects from a distance with his mind was perfectly suited to any number of criminal activities. He learned to pick pockets, pick locks, and talk his way out of trouble if anything went wrong. Life was difficult, but living among his new friends and "family" with the other urchins, life was half decent.

Then Blast turned seventeen. He was thankfully alone that night, on stakeout at an alchemist's shop, when there was a flash of fire and the heady scent of brimstone filled the air. Upon turning around, Blast was greeted by the sight of his grandfather, the demon lord, come to make the child aware of his ancestry and purpose in the world. His first instinct was to use his power again, flinging anything nearby at Naberius, who easily caught the projectile, amused and intrigued. Rather than giving the boy any specific commands, Naberius decided to strike a bargain and experiment with his grandchild: the tiefling would be free to make his way in the world, as long as he continued to expand his powers and do great deeds. Blast was in no position to argue, especially when Naberius made the price of failure abundantly clear by tossing a fireball into the alchemy shop, causing a massive explosion before disappearing back to the Abyss.

Less than a month has passed since that meeting, and Blast's nerves have been worn thin with worry. He has continued working with the thieves as best he can, living day to day on his pickings, but anxiety about what "great deeds" he should do have begun to set in. He looks to the future with some apprehension, wondering what the future holds in store, and what he can do to appease his grandfather and discover his talents.

Description: Blast is not particularly tall, but he is quite wiry, with little muscle or fat on his body. He moves with general grace, but individual parts of his body twitch in quick, stunted motions--his eyes flick about, his fingers tap anxiously, and his prehensile tail jolts back and forth when not hidden. He wears worn, patched clothing that looks scavenged from the garbage, with a long coat and scarf being the most interesting bits of the ensemble. His fiendish blood manifests in dark red hair, his long, thin tail, and a pair of small black horns set just before his temples, as well as his bright orange eyes.

Personality: At the end of the day, Blast is a good person, regarded as generous among his fellows and known for giving extra takes to younger urchins so they can pay their dues or purchase small treats. He has adapted and learned much from his last few years on the streets, and is given to free-spirited thinking with a strong independent streak. He has also become rather self-assured of his powers, and still holds bitter, smoldering resentment for those who hate tieflings. However, he has recently been sent back to his tavern days of nervousness, and in moments of stillness he glances over his shoulder as if expecting trouble at any moment.