The Gray Fox's page

Dual Identity (Ex)
A vigilante hides his true identity, allowing him to move about social circles and nobility without carrying the stigma of his ruthless actions. In effect, the vigilante has two identities: one is a polite member of society while the other is a skilled and cunning warrior. To keep up this charade, the vigilante usually has two names: his true name, used in polite company, and his vigilante name, used to strike fear in the hearts of those who oppose him. Knowledge checks about one do not reveal information about the other, unless the vigilante's true identity revealed to the world at large.
The vigilante can start each day in either of his identities, referred to simply as social or vigilante. Changing from one identity to another takes 1 minute and must be done out of sight from other creatures to preserve the vigilante's secret.
Changing identities is more than just changing outfits and clothing (although that is certainly a part of it); the process often also involves applying make-up, altering his hair, and adjusting other personal effects. Furthermore, the change is as much a state of mind as of body, so items such as a hat of disguise and similar spells and effects that change the user's appearance do not reduce the time required to change identities. Most social talents require the vigilante to be in his social identity, but a vigilante who uses vigilante talents in his social identity risks exposing his secret.
Despite being a single person, a vigilante's dual nature allows him to have two alignments, one for each of his identities. When in an identity, he is treated as having that identity's alignment for all spells, magic items, and abilities that rely on alignment. For the purpose of meeting a qualification for a feat, class, or any ability, he is only eligible if both of his alignments meet the requirements.
A vigilante's two alignments cannot be more than one step from each other on a single alignment axis. For example, a vigilante with a lawful neutral social identity could have a vigilante identity that is lawful good, lawful neutral, lawful evil, neutral, neutral good, or neutral evil. If a vigilante is the target of an effect that would change his alignment, it changes both of his alignments to the new alignment.
Any attempts to scry or otherwise locate the vigilante work only if the vigilante is currently in the identity the creature is attempting to locate (or if the creature knows that the two identities are the same individual). Otherwise, the spell or effect has no effect, revealing nothing but darkness, as if the target were invalid or did not exist.

Seamless Guise (Ex)
A vigilante knows how to behave in a way that appears perfectly proper and normal for his current identity. Should anyone suspect him of being anything other than what he appears to be while either in his social or vigilante identity, he can attempt a Disguise check with a +20 circumstance bonus to appear as his current identity, and not as his other identity.
Social Talent
Starting at 1st level, and every 2 levels thereafter, a vigilante gains a social talent. Unless otherwise noted, a talent can be selected only once. Some talents require the vigilante to meet other prerequisites before they can be chosen, such as having another social talent or attaining a minimum vigilante level. Once a talent has been chosen, it cannot be changed.

Vigilante Specialization (Ex)
At 1st level, a vigilante must choose to be either an avenger or a stalker.

Stalker: Gains an ability called hidden strike, which allows him to deal an extra 1d8 points of precision damage on melee attacks (or ranged attacks from within 30 feet) against foes who are unaware of his presence, who consider him an ally, or who are made flat-footed by startling appearance. This extra damage increases by 1d8 at 3rd level and every 2 vigilante levels thereafter. A stalker vigilante can also deal hidden strike damage to a target that he is flanking or that is denied its Dexterity bonus to AC, but in these cases, the damage dice are reduced to d4s. A stalker can deal hidden strike damage against targets with concealment (but not total concealment).

Once this choice is made, it can't be changed. While many vigilante talents are usable by both specializations, some are unique to each specialization. A stalker vigilante can apply only one talent marked with an asterisk (*) to a given hidden strike, and only when that hidden strike is dealt against a foe that is unaware of the stalker vigilante's presence (or who considers him an ally), unless otherwise noted.

Vigilante Talent
Starting at 2nd level and every 2 levels thereafter, a vigilante gains a vigilante talent. Unless otherwise noted, a talent can be selected only once. Some talents require the vigilante to meet prerequisites before they can be chosen, such as possessing another vigilante talent, possessing a particular specialization, or attaining a minimum level. Once a talent has been selected, it can't be changed.

Unshakable (Ex)
Starting at 3rd level, a vigilante adds his class level to the DC of any attempts to Intimidate him.

Startling Appearance (Ex)
At 5th level, a vigilante learns to use the element of surprise to his advantage, startling foes that are unaware of his presence. Whenever a vigilante with this ability attempts an attack against a foe that is completely unaware of the vigilante's presence (usually due to Stealth or invisibility), the foe is treated as flat-footed for the rest of the vigilante's turn (uncanny dodge or a similar ability prevents this effect unless the vigilante is at least 4 levels higher than the foe with uncanny dodge).
The foe also takes a –4 penalty on attacks made against the vigilante until the start of the vigilante's next turn.

Standard Racial Traits

Ability Score Racial Traits: Halflings are nimble and strong-willed, but their small stature makes them weaker than other races. They gain +2 Dexterity, +2 Charisma, and –2 Strength.
Size: Halflings are Small creatures and gain a +1 size bonus to their AC, a +1 size bonus on attack rolls, a –1 penalty to their CMB and CMD, and a +4 size bonus on Stealth checks.
Base Speed (Slow Speed): Halflings have a base speed of 20 feet.
Languages: Halflings begin play speaking Common and Halfling. Halflings with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following: Dwarven, Elven, Gnome, and Goblin. See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.

Defense Racial Traits

Fearless: Halflings receive a +2 racial bonus on all saving throws against fear. This bonus stacks with the bonus granted by halfling luck.
Halfling Luck: Halflings receive a +1 racial bonus on all saving throws.

Feat and Skill Racial Traits

Sure-Footed: Halflings receive a +2 racial bonus on Acrobatics and Climb checks.

Offense Racial Traits

Weapon Familiarity: Halflings are proficient with slings and treat any weapon with the word “halfling” in its name as a martial weapon.

Senses Racial Traits

Keen Senses: Halflings receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.

Alternate Racial Traits
Fleet of Foot: Some halflings are quicker than their kin but less cautious. Halflings with this racial trait move at normal speed and have a base speed of 30 feet. This racial trait replaces slow speed and sure-footed.

I’ve been in worse places, Jaks thinks, as lays in his oversized bunk, his hands clasped behind his head as he tries to forget about the pain of his throbbing face. He lays there with his eyes almost swollen shut, and goes over the layout of the room in his mind, Six foot by eight foot with six foot ceilings, cramped for a human less so for a Halfling like myself. The walls, ceiling and floor are all made of stone with a solid oak door in one wall and in the opposite wall there is a small window with four iron bars placed vertically through the opening. The only furniture in the cell is the bed Jaks is lying on, a water basin, and chamber pot in the corner. Jaks concludes, the door is the weak link in the prison and wouldn’t be a problem even without my tools. He continues his musings while he slowly opens his bruised eyes and examines the bars on the cell’s window. By the angle of the fading light coming in through the window he figures that it must be close to dinner.

Jaks throws his feet over the side of his cot, springing to his feet. Ignoring the pain, he swiftly walks over to the water basin in the corner and takes a sip of the brackish liquid. As he does so Jaks considers his reflection and smiles. Blood covers his teeth causing him to have a fearsome appearance. He takes another sip from the basin and continues looking at his reflection, taking note of his swollen face and laughs, even his own mother wouldn’t recognize him. Thanks to his captors, his face is covered in purple and yellow bruises, and blood mats his curly auburn hair. ”Stop admiring yourself like a maiden going to her first ball,” he chides himself as he turns away from the basin.

As Jaks turns he hears the lock on the cell door being engaged and sees the door being opened. To his surprise it is not the usual guard bringing dinner but three thick necked guards he does not recognize. The largest of the three motions with his arm and says, ”Come.”

”Is it time or my massage?” Jaks quips. The large men just stand there with blank faces. ”Tough crowd,” He mutters.

With a shrug he begins to follow the men. It doesn’t take long before he brought into the Warden’s office, but it wasn’t the Warden sitting behind the desk. The room was well lit and two men are sitting behind the desk. One is the Hell Knight Maralictor Brutus Callus, the commander of patrols in the Bottoms, who waits with a scowl on his face, the second man, is unknown to Jaks and is reviewing some paper work, ignoring the newcomers. One of the thick necked guards shows Jaks a seat on the opposite side of the desk from the two men. The other two large guards take positions at the door behind Jaks, while the guard that shoed Jaks his seat takes a position behind the two men sitting across the desk from Jaks.

Eventually, the unknown man behind the desk looks up from his paperwork and says in a raspy voice, ”You little Slip, you really screwed up this time. Your subversive activities are coming to an end,” as he slaps his hand down on the desk with a laugh. He nods his head towards Maralictor Callus, ”We will finally be rid of the remnants of the Freemen. Your little band of Gray Foxes were among the last bunch to be rounded up. What do you have to say for yourself.”

Jaks leans back in the chair throwing his leg over the armrest and responds, ”Better luck next time, I guess.”

”You can laugh all you want,” the Hell Knight interrupts, raising his voice as he stands, “but five of your rebel friends are dead and you’re next.”

Not answering, Jaks grins at the man and thinks to himself, We were more protesters then rebels.

When no response is forth coming the Maralictor sits back down, flipping through some pages of a file in front of him and crisply chimes in, “Eventually you will tell us everything about your little operation.” He scrolls down the page, ”Interesting, the others talked before they died and our intelligence says that you were the least likely to take part in the rebellion. They said that you are arrogant, an incorrigible gambler, as well as a philanderer, and drunkard. Well Halfling,” He looks at the paper in front of him, ”What did they call you, ah yes Slate. Well Slate it looks like your arrogance finally did you in.”

”You forgot slothful and I have a tendency to talk with my mouthful. Also, technically, I’ am more of a womanizer than a philanderer,” Jaks replies with a grin.

”And smartass,” the Hell Knight retorts.

”True, true,” Jaks chuckles and continues, ”Now, I’ll be the first to admit that there is a fine line between arrogance and self-confidence and that sometimes I cross that line. But in the end I trust my luck and my instincts.” Getting tired of the banter he asks, ”Is there a reason you called this meeting?”

”And full of crap,” adds the Hell Knight.

The other man interrupts, takes a deep breath and pulls a sheet of paper off the table. Looking down at the paper in his hand he states, ”While we don’t know who you are yet, we are starting to piece things together, and when we do we will execute your family and all you hold dear, just like we did with the others.” With a self-satisfied smile he continues, ”You’ve left quite a trail for us to piece together and there only so many halflings with in the city. Why don’t you save us all some trouble and tell us who you really are?”

As his question is met with silence he goes on, ”We’ve recently come into possession of some information suggesting that you’ve trained with Yurig the Black. “

Interesting, Jaks thinks as he tries to hide his surprise, This man obviously is not a part of the Hell Knights, or some faceless bureaucrat. Local by his accent, I wonder why he is bringing up Yurig and his black book.

The man continues, reaching for another document on the table and hands the document to Jaks, ”Read this, it’s the order for your execution.”

As Jaks reads the order his mild irritation turns to surprise and he asks, “Are you sure this is correct?”

The unknown man answers, ”Absolutely.”

”Not so smug now,” the Hell Knight interjects with a self-satisfied smirk.

”No, I can’t say that I disagree with the order,” Jaks laughs and continues, ”It is probably for the best and let’s be honest Maralictor Callus, I wouldn’t handle the rigors of prison very well. I’m afraid I'd be a bit too popular with the inmates, so to speak. Plus, your Hell Knights would probably lose their meager paychecks gambling with me and start beating their wives and that would not be good for moral. So as you can see the way it is going to work out is better for everyone.”

Angrily the Marlictor retorts, ”You can put on a show now but come tomorrow I bet you crap your britches.”

The unknown man continues saying, ”We’re not barbarians here, do you have any last requests?”

”I suppose an all-expenses paid trip to Nex is out of the question.” Not waiting for a reply Jaks continues, ”No, I can’t think of anything,” as he gingerly strokes his chin, ”well maybe some butter with my dinner bread tonight.”

”That can be done,” the man replies and adds, ”Maralictor have the warden triple the guard outside his door tonight we’ll resume his questioning at dawn with the execution is set for midday.” Motioning to the thick necked guards, ”Take him back to his cell.”

Back in his cell Jaks lies in his bunk, with his hands behind his head, again. It is dark outside and he is humming as he thinks about the conversation he just had and the order he read. Well this is definitely the end he thinks, and he reminisces about the life he is going to give up.

Jaks ponders about the time when he had another name and a family. He was raised a slave along with his parents in Imperial Cheliax. His master was a brutal and strict taskmaster. At an early age his family secured his freedom with the help of the Bellflower Network. Jaks was smuggled out of Cheliax buy an elderly human librarian named Ben who relocated the emancipated Halfling to Kaer Maga. Ben raised Jaks as his own and Jaks fell in love with books. Books! What alive, colorful, and vibrant things. Books were a place to forget about your troubles, a place to share your dreams, and they never failed to lift your spirits. Jaks took to the learning like a fish to the water, the library became a home away from home for him. When he wasn’t running around the streets he could usually be found squirreled away in the stacks with his nose in a book.

So his book learning began in earnest and he learned the power and magic of words. He flourished in this environment and grew in knowledge and wit. Not only were there books about history and engineering but there were books on body language, diplomacy, etiquette, religion, and numerous other subjects. He learned the stories of the Hell Knights, Dwarven Sky Citadels, Pathfinders, and too many heroes and distant lands to name. There were Taldorian Epics, and Elven Ballads as well as treatise on human behavior. He learned to recite entire poems, discourses, and plays from memory. There were maps of forgotten places and secret things. It was from books he learned fencing and fitness, strategy and tactics. Looking back, he would say that his time spent studying in the dusty corners of the library was the most enjoyable part of his life.

It was hard to believe that a former slave and bookish librarian would become a renowned linguist and member of a small group of rebels called the Gray Foxes. He really had no choice on getting involved, not after Ben was assassinated. The old man was killed on the eve of the actual invasion by an Order of the Scar Hell Knight, for his involvement with the Bellflower Network, a sort of preemptive strike by the armies of Thrune.

He recounts to himself, The Gray Foxes were a small network of rebels comprised entirely of Halflings. Originally they specialized in organizing protests and demonstrations against the occupation. After the brutality of the occupiers became apparent the branched out into clandestine operations, subterfuge, and high risk rescues. Their abilities, the rise in lawlessness, and the current political climate made their capture a primary objective for the Hell Knights. He can’t help but think about the other members of the Gray Foxes that were rounded up and killed. Rabbit, Sabre, Sandy, Carp, and Garrison. All lost because of a traitor in their midst. It was the only explanation as to why their secret meeting was discovered. But the Gray Foxes are no more, I’m the only one left.

His musings are interrupted, as two guards bring in his dinner. They place it on the floor and leave, locking the door behind them. Jaks gets up from the bunk and inspects his dinner, a stale loaf of bread and a small wedge of butter. Perfect, he thinks as he picks up the loaf, takes a bite, and swallows.

Jaks takes the remainder of the loaf and throws it into the chamber pot. Next he picks up the butter and with little wasted movement springs up to the bars in the window. Holding onto a bar with one hand he smears the butter onto two of the bars. When he is done he hops back down to the cell floor and undresses, folding his clothes into a small package. He takes the remaining water from the basin and pours it over his body.

”‘That should do it,” he mummers to himself as he picks up his clothes then jumps up and grabs a hold of the bars in the cell’s window again. He throws his clothes out the window and begins to wiggle through the bars, the butter and the water providing enough lubrication for him to slip through. He is thankful that the cell was designed to keep humans in and not Halflings otherwise he would have had to fight his way out.

Once outside the cell Jaks picks up his clothes and stealthy moves across the courtyard, examining the surrounding buildings. He heads toward the outer wall and sees what he is looking for, a door in the base of the tower, he reads the sign on the door marking it as a storeroom E. Speedily, Jaks makes for the door, and opens it dashing inside. Once inside he turns around quietly, shutting and locking the door. Fortunately the room is empty, not that he expected otherwise this time of night. Jaks quickly gets dressed and begins to search the room for any usable items. After a quick search he is able to salvage a length of rope and a heavy crossbow. However he could only find one bolt for the crossbow whose tip was smeared with a stick paste. He cranks the handle, loading the crossbow and concludes, I wish it was a bow but this will work.

Furtively Jaks begins to make his way to the top of the tower. As he moves upward he encounters no one and is unmolested as he makes it to the top. Once on the top the tower he looks up and down the wall, thankful for what his mother called dragon sight which accounts for his superior vision at night, where he can see a guard patrolling in the distance. I’ve got two minutes at the most he calculates. Next he ties the rope off and throws the remainder of the rope over the outside of the wall.

Looks like this might work after all he reassures himself. Then he hesitates for a second, and considers, Once I do this there is no turning back. He turns and makes his way back to the inner wall and looks out across the courtyard toward the well-lit stables. A minute and a half before the guard is in position to see me, he reminds himself. From his perch atop the tower Jaks doesn’t have to wait long before he sees the Hell Knight Maralictor Brutus Callus standing in the enclosure outside the stables waiting for someone to bring his mount. Thirty seconds, his internal clock tells him. With little hesitation he brings up the crossbow and rests the sights on the Hell Knights head. Jaks smoothly pulls the trigger and the Maralictor collapses. No time to congratulate yourself, he thinks as he drops the Crossbow and rushes for the rope.

Crud Nuggets, as expected, the loud thunk of the crossbow gave his position away to the approaching guard. He can hear the commotion and confusion as the guard begins to cry out. Not wasting any time Jaks throws himself over the outer side of the wall and quickly slides down the rope. He runs across the open square that surrounds the compound as crossbows fire and bolts ricochet off the cobble stone streets, Too close for comfort. Jaks makes it to the concealment of the nearby buildings and begins to make is way down the deserted lanes as bells begin to ring in alarm. Ah, here’s the road I want, Up ahead he sees a carriage with six horses, pulled to the side of the lane. This is my last chance to disappear he thinks as he approaches the coach, in for a copper in for a platinum as my father used to say. He musters his resolve and clambers up into the coach. Upon entering the coach he is immediately thrust back as the carriage shoots forward.

Jaks is not surprised to see the man from the warden’s office seated beside him. ”Nice work” the man says and continues, ”I wasn’t sure you would recognize the message hidden in the orders to execute you.”

Jaks replies, ”Your Yurig the Black reference was obscure but got me thinking. How did you know I had read Yurig’s black book on cyphers?”

”I didn’t,” the man admits.

Jaks nods his head, ” The content of the message surprised me, Escape immediately after dinner, proceed to storage room E, terminate Maralictor Callus at stable, rendezvous with Carriage on Downey Street. I had to read it twice to make sure.” He continues and asks, ”why all the subterfuge, I’m sure the Ardoc Family could have arranged for the Maralictor’s demise?”

”You’re quick, when did you know I was with the Ardoc Family,” the man replies.

”Just now,” Jaks responds while the carriage speeds along.

”To answer your question Maralictor Calluss had to die,” the man clears his throat, ”He was becoming a thorn in our side, disrupting family business, and he started costing us money. Unfortunately, there was no politically expedient way to remove him without serious ramifications. Plus, we couldn’t have anything point back to the family in this.”

The man goes on, ”Nevertheless, your capture gave us the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. We were able to get rid of the Maralictor, place the blame on someone else, and gain a new operative all in one fell swoop.” He reaches into his satchel and hands a package to Jaks.

He goes on, ”Needless to say the file the Hell Knights had on you will be destroyed and shortly they will find the body of a Halfling in an alley way wearing prisoner garb. He will have died from a crossbow wound and his face will be smashed to pieces making him unrecognizable.” He takes a breath, ”You can continue your freedom fighting activities if you like. However, as you’ve probably guessed, we can use your services and have an offer for you. Of course you will have no official connection with the Ardoc Family. As a show of good faith we’ll let you off here.” The coach begins slow and the man continues as he hands Jaks a packet, ”Here are the protocols for contacting us and how we’ll contact you.”

Jaks chimes in, ”And if I refuse.”

The man smiles for the first time, ”Our leash is easier to bear than that of House Thrune. Plus, you’ll like it, and you’re the perfect person for the job.”

”By perfect, you mean expendable,” Jaks adds as he reviews the documents in front of him and exits the coach.

Thus was born the Gray Fox, scourge to the diabolist