Noyte Ruo
Male Human (Keleshite) Bard (Dirge Bard) 1
NG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +2;
Senses Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 15, touch 12, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +2 Dex)
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +4,
Ref +4,
Will +4; +2 trait bonus vs. emotion spells and effects
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee dagger +0 (1d4/19-20) and
. . quarterstaff +0 (1d6) and
. . whip +0 (1d3 nonlethal)
Ranged sling +2 (1d4)
Special Attacks bardic performance 7 rounds/day (countersong, distraction, fascinate, inspire courage +1)
Bard (Dirge Bard) Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4):
1st (2/day)—
charm person (DC 14), summon monster i
0 (at will)—
detect magic, ghost sound (DC 13), mage hand, prestidigitation (DC 13)
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Statistics
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Str 10,
Dex 14,
Con 14,
Int 15,
Wis 11,
Cha 17
Base Atk +0;
CMB +0;
CMD 12
Feats Great Fortitude, Iron Will, Scribe Scroll, Skill Focus (Perform [sing])
Traits grief-filled, undead crusader
Skills Bluff +7, Diplomacy +7, Disguise +7, Knowledge (arcana) +3, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +3, Knowledge (engineering) +3, Knowledge (geography) +3, Knowledge (history) +7, Knowledge (local) +3, Knowledge (nature) +3, Knowledge (nobility) +3, Knowledge (planes) +7, Knowledge (religion) +4, Linguistics +6, Perception +4, Perform (sing) +10, Sense Motive +4, Stealth +5
Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, Infernal, Kelish
SQ bardic knowledge +1
Other Gear studded leather, dagger, quarterstaff, sling, whip, 24 gp, 5 sp
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Special Abilities
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Bardic Knowledge +1 (Ex) Add +1 to all knowledge skill checks.
Bardic Performance (standard action) (7 rounds/day) Your performances can create magical effects.
Grief-Filled +2 trait bonus to save vs emotion spells and effects.
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They had almost give up looking when one of the searchers heard a small shifting under one of the charred fallen timbers.
”Hey hold up a bit”. “Something’s moving over here”. When they pulled the debris away, young Noyte was there, covered with soot, his hair and eyebrows mostly burnt off, but alive and breathing.
He was one of the few survivors of that fiery night. The whole block had gone up like dried moss. Some said it was old man Fraris fallen asleep smoking his pipe. Others said some of the Gillus boys had struck up a fire too big to control…they were always getting into trouble for that kind of thing. But now the boy, along with the other survivors of that night were orphans.
Noyte was sent to the temple to heal for a bit. The priests, and city officials were able to piece together who he was from interviewing survivors from the neighborhood, but nobody was aware of any living kin…and he had not spoken since the rescue. At first his blistered flesh had become infected, and his fever raged for days. Maybe he was touched in the head a bit, and might never speak…but that was not the strangest thing about him. When a large bandage was removed from his lower right side, and the dead skin was pulled away, what was revealed shocked everyone. A spiral birthmark, or scar or something.
Between the strange marking, and his lack of speech, he was not at the top of the choosing list at the orphanages he was sent to. He was sent from one to another, but these orphanages for the most part ran on the profits from selling the children to the highest bidder, and the slight, shy boy was not in high demand. So, he moved from orphanage to foster home, never finding a home. Finally, at 14 years old he was put out on the streets to find his own way…which he did.
While walking the streets one winter day he chanced upon the temple of Pharasma, and heard a glorious sound. The sound of voices singing in harmony. It didn’t matter what the song was, it stirred his soul. He was doubly blessed when he found a steam grate within hearing distance of the temple, and was able to make it his home for several months.
Then came the sickness. Frail, hungry, cold, wet… living on the streets it was bound to happen. He couldn’t get warm, but his skin was aflame. The dreams of the flaming house, and the horror on the faces of his parents, and siblings came back to him. And in this delirium he walked. Straight into the church during one of these stirring songs. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream, or if he indeed walked there. He stumbled down the aisle, and one of the acolytes noticed him.
”Get out of here urchin”. “This service is for the families of the deceased, and the brotherhood only”. But in his delirium something amazing happened. Noyte opened his mouth and began to sing. And it was glorious. A deep booming rich baritone, than almost shook the walls with it’s power and passion. To hear such depth and power from such a frail and sickly teen was unheard of. The high priests took one look at the boy…and that was the last he remembered for a while. Except that he seemed to be falling…
He awoke several days later, lying in a bed, warm and comfortable for the first time since the night of the burning. He was embraced by the church of Pharasma, and considered a miracle. So he learned the teachings of Pharasma, and he sang; for high priests, nobles, and kings. For the poor and the rich, the human and the humanoids…all heard the same song. The funeral dirge, which he sang better than anyone…ever.
And now the calling to Orision. Where death was treated as a ceremony. Here more than anywhere else, might he find inspiration for "the Perfectd Dirge".
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