Sal'Hara's page

===Defense===

AC: 15 T-AC: 15 FF-AC: 10 (+5Dex +0Armor)
HP: 35 (5d6+1)
Fort: 2 Ref: 6 Will: 5
Immune Magical sleep
Resist +2 against Enchantment, +2 against hot weather

===Offense===

Speed: 30ft x4
Melee
Mwk short spear +3 (1d6)
Ranged
Mwk Longbow +8 (1d8/ 100ft /Regular, Whistling, or Thistle arrows)
Mwk Shortspear +8 (1d6/ 20ft)
Special attacks
White-hair +7 (1d4+5/ 10ft reach/grapple/constrict/trip)
Inflict light wounds +2 (1d8+5/ Touch/On-hand/ 5 per day)
Cure light wounds +0 (1d8+5/Touch/Off-hand/ 5 per day)
Tattoo [robe] of needles +7 (1dmg +1Bleed/ 10ft range/ Touch/ 6 per day/ Full round action ends bleed)

===Statistics===

Str: 10 Dex 20 Con 12 Int 21 Wis 12 Cha 8
Base Atk +2 CMB +2 (+7 with hair) CMD 17
Feats Spell Focus (transmutation), Mage’s Tattoo (transmutation; Mage Hand 3/d), Inscribe Magical Tattoo, Craft Wondrous Tattoo
Skills Craft (Tattoo) +13, Heal +7, Know (Nature) +14, Linguistics +16, Perception +6, Profession (Sailor) +6, Spellcraft +13, Stealth, +7, Survival +7, Swim +1
Traits Unintentional Linguist, Hedge Magician
SQCantrips, White Hair (grapple, reach, Constrict, Trip), Witch’s Familiar (Water Moccasin),Patron(Insanity), Elven Weapon Familiarity, Low-light Vision, Woodcraft (replaced Elven Mgic), Keen Senses, Elven Immunities
Languages Elven, Common, Undercommon, Orccish, Goblin, Giant, Draconic, Protean, Sylvan, Necril, Aklo, Aquan, “Ancient TBD”

===Items===

Equipped: Hot Weather outfit (+2 V. Hot Weather), Efficient Quiver (20 Whistling arrows, 20 Thistle Arrows, 20 regular arrows); Tattoo [robe] of needles; Vest of All tools; Eyes of Understanding (Tattoo); Sinister Phalanges (left fingers) tattoo of reliable Cure light wounds (Cure light 5/d); Dextrous Phalanges (right fingers) tattoo of reliable Inflict light wounds (Inflict light 5/d); 2x Spell component pouches, Handy Haversack, Mwk Backpack (+1 Str to carry cap)
Carried in bag: x2Wand of Cure light wounds (full charge), Healer’s Kit (+2 Heal; 10 charges), Compass, Moonrod (5), Bedroll, Candle (10), Chalk (10),Trail rations (5 days) Iron Pot, Mess kit, Soap, Flint&Steel, writing Ink Vial, Inkpen, Black Tattoo Ink vial, Tattoo Needle & hammer, Waterskin

Leaves at HQ Moonrod (5), Inscence (10), Mwk Artisan’s tools (body mod kit), Surgeon’s tools

===Defense===

AC 18 T-AC 13 FF-AC 15 (+2Dex, +5Nat, +1Size)
HP 18 (5d8-5 [takes ½ master’s HP)
Fort +1 Ref +5 Will +5

===Offense===

Speed 20ft., climb 20ft., Swim 20ft.
Melee Bite +6 (1d3-1 plus poison)
Space 5ft. Reach 5ft.

===Statistics===

Str 8 Dex 16 Con 8 Int 8 Wis 13 Cha 2
Base Atk +2 CMB +4 CMD 11 (can’t be tripped)
Feats Weapon Finesse, Alertness
Skills Climb +12, Perception, +9, Stealth +11, Swim +12
SQ Speak with Master, Deliver touch spells, Improved Evasion, Share Spells, Empathic Link

===Special Abilities===

Poison (ex) – Injury; Save: Fort DC 9; Frequency 1/round for 6 rounds; effect1d2 Con damage; Cure 1 save

*Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…*
”I love the feeling of the needles tearing the skin. Why did I stop for so long?” Sal’Hara thought to himself.
*Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap…*

The candle flickered as the ship rocked back and forth; the thick smell of incense was a calming intoxicant against the sting of salty sea air. His large half-orc client had long since passed out from pain, but it was still breathing and its pulse still steady. The pattern Sal’Hara was etching in this monster’s green skin, a thick, solid-red ring, was meant to symbolize the last year as crew of this ship. As Sal’Hara finished the tattoo and began packing his belongings, his client stirred.

”Don’t get up too fast, Kurtz, or you may find yourself on the floor.”, said the white skinned elf through a menacing grin.
”Kurtzrim arhai nar inras Lat urdanog, Lulzaboht!” (Kurtz’s gonads don’t attack on your command, Pale Flower!), the orc barked as he stood up.
Sal'Hara started counting in his head ”one, two, three, four, five… good night” Kurtz fell on his flat face.
Sal’hara laughed at the fallen man, ”Dobat, takul alag mat batan trulishi” (Weak, those that die fallen on the floor), then walked out onto the deck of the ship.

The blistering heat of day was beginning to cool off as the ship pulled in to port just after dusk. Sal’Hara was glad to be back on land. He’d spent almost three years sailing with this crew, and as much as he loved the freedom of the open sea, he was getting sick of the company. He never was very personable, and people liked to point that out. This was his last night onboard The Wandering Eel. As he pulled his chest to shore, he let out a sigh of relief, after all, elves were never really meant for the sea.

ONE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS AGO

As his mother ran carrying him in her arms, the child could see the people chasing after them. An arrow struck the tree next to his mother, then another, and a third. “Why are they shooting at us?” the child wondered frightfully. He closed his eyes tightly so he didn’t have to watch. His mother screamed and stumbled. The child fell from her hands and banged his head on the hard ground.

Am man, Atara!? ”Why, mother!?” The child bleated as he saw the bloodied arrow now piercing his mother’s chest. She said something he couldn’t hear and lifted her hands. There was a flash of light and the child was somewhere he didn’t know. The forest had changed into a bog; the child couldn’t remember his own name and the memory of the people chasing him was getting blurry; he fell into the darkness of unconscious.
“Maure Suceim…” ”I need drink“, the first words to find themselves to the child’s lips when he woke were in his native elvish. He lifted himself and stumbled through the bog in search of water. It wasn’t long before he found himself kneeling and clearing the algae off the top of a pool of stagnant water, not knowing any better he drank deep of the poison.
”the idiot drinks bog water?” Nachash watched as the child drank the swamp water. When the child lifted himself off of the ground, the snake began following it. “Such a strange creature, its walks on two legs, and its skin is as white the petals of the rose mallow… Why am I intrigued?”
A day went by as the child wandered aimlessly through the mire. Feeling the heat and humidity the child was unaware of his growing fever, as night fell on the first day the child lapsed into fevered dreams. The snake watched from a distance as the child’s body pulsed with magic induced by hallucination. ”that’s what draws me, then? Let’s see where this goes.”

The child awoke suddenly and shot up. When he did, he found himself face to face with a water moccasin. The child tried to scream, but his throat was so dry it only left him feeling like it was burnt.
”Hush child, you’ll call attention of worse animals.” The snake didn’t seem as menacing as the child first thought.
”Who are you?” The child asked the snake. “I… I can’t remember my name…”
”I am Nachash of the swamps of Lyssia… and you are now my child.”

EIGHT YEARS AGO

The room smelled heavy of incense, as the tattooed elf toiled over the body of a teenaged tiefling. He wiped his brow as he pushed the needle through the kid’s skin. Ekrius, the boy, had thought to swing down from the rigging in an attempt at swagger but instead dropped one of the counterweights from the fore gaff. Fortunately, no one was killed, or they’d have had a keelhauling. Unfortunately, one of the crew had his leg broken, and the new Bosun employed a brutal type of punishment and wasn’t the least bit merciful. He finished tying the last suture, and bit off the end of the catgut string, ”third one this week…” The captain’s choice to promote the gruff half-orc to bosun brought with it a little too much discipline for Sal’Hara’s liking. ”It’s too bad that Hutchens didn’t whip some kindness into Kurtz before he died...”

A large half-orc threw open the door to Sal’hara’s workroom, ”Shurr mab Ta agh Hudhul Kurrauz U thupar. Kurtz nar marr igu Jaldobat” p*ss on him and throw him back to my whip. Kurtz no take insult from weak boy, the rancid cuss boomed.
Sal’Hara spit at the man ”I don’t take orders from you, Turshgajol. See yourself to out of my quarters, and count your blessings that I’m a skilled healer, or you’d have been keelhauled for murder your first day on the job.” Pickle d*ck Sal’Hara slammed the door on the orc and threw the bolt.
”Balsy and ju tou mo lou… I wonder how long that so’ab*tch’ll last.” without a brain between his ears, the white elf thought to himself as he heard Kurtz stomp away.
The tiefling boy on the table coughed and moaned back to consciousness. “Good, you’re awake! You’ll be want to sit up slowly. The gashes from that scorpion whip are deep. I’ll be ordering you on bed rest for the next fortnight.”
[b]”I ain’t layin ’bout in the hold for a gods’ damned week let alone two! I need me pay fer’a next leave and Kurtz will flog me for lubin around!” the kid bickered .
”Shut ya mouth and do as I say, or I’ll put ya put t’drift covered in a bucket o’ chum myself. You’re of no use here if you continue acting like a morosi”Fool Sal’Hara unbolted the door, and gestured for the boy to leave. The kid obeyed. ”You deserved to be whipped for your behavior.” Sal’Hara said as the kid left.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

The sun glistened brightly off of Sal'Hara's alabaster shoulders as he pulled his boat on to the sandy beach. He had become quite glad for the facial tattoos he'd inscribed upon himself last year, they helped quell the sting of the sun a bit. He lifted his bountiful bag of freshly caught fish and carried it toward (Game town). He only need a dozen or so, and with little more than a hundred, he could trade for some supplies that he needed.

When he got to market, he began the usual routine of bartering. He'd been here many years now, and felt that the merchants gave him fair prices... He was never any good at trade, though, so maybe they were just constant in their robbery. When he was done at the fish stalls, he headed over to the Shipwright's office. Sal'Hara had been missing his time aboard The Wandering Eel and was thinking about having his own ship built with his savings.

"you miss the life of rocking ocean? Not a tree or piece of land in sight?" Nachash hissed in his ear.
"You know better than anyone how fickle my heart can be." The elf replied. As the viper was begining to respond, Sal'Hara shushed it. He'd noticed something.

Through the streets of his town walked a hooded half-orc, but the vague resemblance to enemies past wasn't what had caught his eye. This man carried on his hip a very peculiar whip. Sal'Hara made to follow the orc, unstrapping the short spear from his lower back. "No way Kurtz found his way off that wreck. I thought for sure I cut his throat... This isn't good," his mind racing with anxiety at the thoughts.

Sal'Hara walked past the orc at the dock authority's stall. The large man removed his cowl... "Too young, just a coincidence... Thank the gods!"

After a few weeks, Sal'hara got used to seeing the man in town. He'd taken up profession as a bouncer at a local bar, He called himself Orsal Hort. That whip, though, definitely used to be the property of Kurtz. Sal'Hara occasionally wonders if the mutineer is still alive