Tamin Westiron's page

Captain Tamin Westiron
Male human swashbuckler (daring infiltrator) 3
LG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +3; Senses Perception +5
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Defense
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AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 15 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 dodge, +1 shield)
hp 39 (3d10+6)
Fort +3, Ref +6, Will +2; +1 trait bonus vs. charm and compulsion spells or +2 if directed to break the law
Defensive Abilities nimble +1
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee dagger +6 (1d4+1/19-20+3 Precision) or
. . mithral longsword +8 (1d8+3/19-20+3 Precision) or
. . sap +4 (1d6+1 nonlethal)
Ranged light crossbow +6 (1d8/19-20)
Special Attacks deeds (derring-do, dodging panache, kip-up, opportune parry and riposte, precise strike), panache (2)
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Statistics
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Str 12, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 11, Cha 14
Base Atk +3; CMB +6 (+8 to various maneuvers); CMD 18 (20 vs. various maneuvers)
Feats Agile Maneuvers, Combat Expertise, Combat Stamina, Deadly Aim, Deft Maneuvers, Power Attack, Slashing Grace, Unforgotten, Weapon Focus (Heavy Blades)
Traits Discerning Eye, ease of faith, lover of the law
Skills Acrobatics +5, Bluff +8, Climb +3, Diplomacy +8, Disguise +8, Intimidate +6, Knowledge (local) +5, Knowledge (nobility) +4, Knowledge (religion) +5, Linguistics +1, Perception +5, Profession (soldier) +5, Ride +5, Sense Motive +5, Sleight of Hand +6, Stealth +7, Swim +3
Languages Common, Elven
SQ daring infiltrator deeds (clandestine expertise, silence is golden), finesse weapon attack attribute, swashbuckler finesse
Combat Gear oil of magic weapon, potion of cure light wounds (2), potion of darkvision, holy water; Other Gear mwk lamellar (leather) armor, buckler, blunted bolts (10), crossbow bolts (10), dagger, disguise kit, holy symbol of Abadar, holy symbol of Kelinahat, light crossbow, mithral longsword, sap, average lock, manacles, masterwork backpack, 90 gp

Inventory when going to the Ranger's Lament: Mwk lamellar armor; Light crossbow; 10 bolts (normal); 10 bolts (blunted); Dagger; Shortsword; Sap; Buckler; holy symbol of Abadar, 1 potion of CLW; Mwk backpack; 5 GP of coinage
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Special Abilities
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Agile Maneuvers Use DEX instead of STR for CMB
Combat Expertise +/-1 Bonus to AC in exchange for an equal penalty to attack.
Daring Infiltrator Deeds
Deadly Aim -1/+2 Trade a penalty to ranged attacks for a bonus to ranged damage.
Deft Maneuvers Does a whole bunch of stuff.
Finesse Weapon Attack Attribute Finesse weapons use on attack rolls.
Nimble +1 (Ex) +1 dodge bonus to AC.
Panache (Ex) Gain a pool of points that are spent to fuel deeds, regained on light/piercing crit/killing blow.
Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Slashing Grace (Longsword) Treat chosen weapon as 1-handed piercing weapon and can add Dex instead of Str to dam.
Swashbuckler Finesse Use Dex for att with light/1-hand pierce wep. Use Cha instead of Int for combat feat pre-reqs.
Unforgotten Reduce any nonlethal damage you take by 1 point, to a minimum of 1 point.
Weapon Focus (Heavy Blades) You gain a +1 bonus on all attack rolls you make using weapons from the selected group.

Tamin Westiron grew up in Lastwall, one of a long line of Westirons who had done their duty in the guardian nation. As a boy and then a young man, he dreamt of little more than following in the footsteps of his father: train in the ways of war, and at the appropriate age seek a knight who would take him on as squire; and in time to become a knight himself. His life followed that valorous-if-predictable mode until he was twenty-three. At that age, he embodied an almost platonic ideal of what Lastwall’s defenders were like: strong in body, courageous of heart, noble in bearing-- a strapping young man who cut a dashing figure in his armor and with his sword, a knight who had been such for little more than two years... and who was, perhaps, overly sure of himself and his abilities.

One day, Sir Tamin Westiron led a small patrol squad of soldiers nearer to the dangerous borders of the Gravelands than was wise, and they encountered a dread shade who was more than a match for the young knight. The spectre did not kill him, but its insubstantial claws passed through his shining armor as though it were mist, and into the flesh of his arms beneath, sending agony of ice along his nerves and utter numbness through his fingers. His suddenly-weak hands lost his grip on his sword, and Tamin watched in utter helplessness, feeling as enfeebled as a kitten, as the undead slaughtered the rest of his patrol and mocked him all the while. You shall never again bear your sword with any strength!

Tamin staggered back to Vigil carrying the guilt of his slain patrol and the knowledge of his newfound weakness like stones around his neck.

Priests and clerics alike found the strange enfeebling of his limbs to be beyond their prayers, as did wizards and chirurgeons in turn when consulted by the increasingly desperate Tamin. At length, he resigned himself to what he saw as utter uselessness-- what was a knight without his strength at arms? How could a man who was too weak to wear armor, or one exhausted from a flight of stairs, serve his nation? Tamin brooded over his fallen soldiers and his own state with a certain mixture of guilt, despair, and self-pity. He wound up in what amounted to a “desk job” within the citadel of Vigil-- performing some of the clerical and quartermaster work that must happen for even as idealistic an army as Lastwall’s, and viewing this as somewhere between a penance and the only way he might yet contribute.

In the course of this work, he met a half-elf man named Dael. Dael came and went in the offices of Vigil’s leaders, and was often as not dressed in dusty traveler’s clothes, or sometimes the raiment of a priest, or sometimes the garb of a soldier. Tamin took reports from Dael and dutifully copied them down for dissemination, but as months went by it became apparent to Tamin that Dael’s duties were…. irregular, to say the least. They struck up a friendship-- Tamin’s curiosity about the other man strong enough to tug him from his funk, Dael seemingly happy to linger by Tamin’s desk to chat.

When he eventually did ask what, precisely, the other man’s rank and unit was, Dael laughed and winked. Oh, I’m just one of the auxiliaries. Haven’t you heard of us? No? Well, that’s as it should be.

No army in the world has yet operated without its spies and its secret agents, its clandestine scouts and information gatherers; Lastwall is no different, despite its trappings of flapping banners and righteous cause. The auxiliaries, as Dael euphemistically described them, serve in that role for the defender nation-- traveling all about the regions of Lake Encarthan, even to the kingdoms of the orcs, the Drumans, the Razmirans, and others-- to learn what news may matter greatly to Lastwall and her defenders.

To make a long story short: Dael recruited Tamin to the work. This was warfare no less important than what Tamin had done before, if quieter. Sometimes it required he wear the hat of a diplomat-- serving as ambassador to the southern countries and reminding them, with a honeyed tongue, that Lastwall yet needed their support. Sometimes it required that he travel as a merchant to various ports of call, or drink in taverns and coax gossip from the sailors. Tamin’s natural charm was honed by practice and by Dael’s tutelage.

The work was not without danger. When he protested he could no longer wield a blade, Dael had merely quirked a brow at him and asked if he had tried to use something rather lighter?

Dael trained him in the art of daggers-- rather less conspicuous than a full blade, anyway-- and rapiers as well-- blades that required finesse rather than force… since, as Dael pointed out, the specter’s curse had seemed quite focused on strength. It was a loophole worthy of an Auxiliary, but Tamin took to the new style of combat with the same determination he had displayed as a squire ten years prior.

Yet he never quite gave up his love for his first weapon, and in time he learned to adapt the strategies of the rapier for use with a longsword-- learning how to deflect and parry with a minimum of effort, learning that speed and precision could make up for some of his lost strength. (Commissioning a costly blade of mithral helped as well, half the weight of a typical sword.) Strangely, as he left the depths of his self-flagellating despair behind, the curse also seemed to weaken-- he never regained all the strength he had once had, but at least enough that he might pass as a healthy adult man.

Perhaps it was hope, and a renewed sense of purpose, that weakened the curse when the prayers of others hadn’t been able to. Or perhaps it was also his companionship with Dael-- a relationship that in time became a quiet but mutual love.

The two had their work and they had each other. Sometimes they worked missions together, and other times solo-- Tamin was the better speaker, and Dael gifted at blending with the shadows, and thus they complemented each other. Few in Vigil knew of their actual work-- to most, Tamin was something of a figure of pity, a promising soldier who everyone knew had had his career as a warrior cut short by a foul curse, and now was ‘stuck’ in the role of ambassador, who must go to the neighboring kingdoms with Lastwall’s hat in hand. Even Tamin’s own relatives didn’t know of his new covert role… but he found that he was content with this more quiet life, with victories that only a select few might know about, rather than triumphant marches through the city as previous Westirons had boasted.

Time passed. Tamin acquired gray in his hair, stiffness in his joints of a morning. Dael was less touched by the years thanks to his heritage, and the two carefully did not speak of the great likelihood that Dael would outlive Tamin by decades at the least.

It came as something of a shock to Tamin, therefore, when Dael was the one to disappear.

Almost three decades after their first meeting in the corridors of Vigil, Dael failed to return from a mission-- a mission to investigate rumors of Razmirans spreading out from beyond their own country’s benighted borders.

As the days become weeks, Tamin petitioned his superiors that he be allowed to go investigate Dael’s last known whereabouts. The request was not approved; there were other tasks he was needed for, for months upon months, and the Auxiliary leadership pointed out that death was always a risk of their particular line of work, and that duty remained duty. Tamin gritted his teeth and did his duty, until finally he announced after nearly a year that if he were not given leave to investigate Dael’s last mission, he would be tendering his resignation instead.

After some consideration in presumed shadowy back rooms, a compromise was offered: he would be sent to Nirmathas, in the guise of merely another quasi-retired Lastwall officer, both to keep an eye on various matters of interest to Lastwall, but also because there were whispers that the Razmirans might be making inroads into the country as well. It was unspoken that he would have a certain amount of discretion to follow up on any news of Dael… as long as it didn’t contradict with his other duties.

Tamin accepted, and has been in Nirmathas ever since. He arrived in Tamran with a scar on his face that his old colleagues in Vigil might be surprised to see, but if any of them were to do so, he would probably only offer that it had been ... a rough journey~~