Conditions/effects: Protection from Evil, Life Link (Lucius, Nebbin, Saoirse, Turook)
Mythic: 2/5 remaining
Channel (DC 15): 4/4 remaining
Omen (demoralize as swift): 1/1 remaining
Touched by Divinity: True Strike 1/1 remaining
Silver dragon scale: 3/3 per day (Resist Energy: Cold or Electricity)
Lvl 1 - 7/7 per day
Lvl 2 - 5/6 per day
Lvl 3 - 2/4 per day
+1 Crossbow bolts 6
Cold Iron Crossbow bolts 10
Bandoliers (16 slots)
— empty —
Potion of Magic Weapon (CL1) x1
holy water (in-hand)
Wand of Spiritual Weapon (CL3) 6/50 charges
Wand of Cure Moderate Wounds (CL3) 7/50 charges
Scroll of Remove Disease (CL1)
Scroll of Bear’s Endurance (CL3)
Scroll of Restoration
Wand of Cure Light Wounds 21/50 charges
Healer’s kit 10/10 uses
LG male Half-orc Wasting Oracle of Life 6; Heirophant Tier 1
str 18 dex 10 con 14 int 10 wis 8 cha 16
Languages common, orc, abyssal, celestial
Fort +6 Reflex +4 Will +6
Wasting Oracle of Life:
Curse of Wasting (Ex): Your body is slowly rotting away. You take a –4 penalty on Charisma-based skill checks, except for Intimidate. You gain a +4 competence bonus on saves made against disease. At 5th level, you are immune to the sickened condition (but not nauseated). At 10th level, you gain immunity to disease. At 15th level, you are immune to the nauseated condition.
Life Mystery Revelations
Life Link (Su): As a standard action, you may create a bond between yourself and another creature. Each round at the start of your turn, if the bonded creature is wounded for 5 or more hit points below its maximum hit points, it heals 5 hit points and you take 5 hit points of damage. You may have one bond active per oracle level. This bond continues until the bonded creature dies, you die, the distance between you and the other creature exceeds medium range, or you end it as an immediate action (if you have multiple bonds active, you may end as many as you want as part of the same immediate action).
Mystery Spells: Detect Undead (2nd), Lesser Restoration (4th), Neutralize Poison (6th)
Heirophant, Tier 1
Inspired Spell (Su): You can expend one use of mythic power to cast any one divine spell, treating your caster level as 2 levels higher. This spell must be on your divine spell list (or your domain or mystery spell list) and must be of a spell level that you can cast using that divine spellcasting class. If you are a spontaneous spellcaster, you don't need to have the spell prepared, nor does it need to be on your list of spells known. Using this ability does not expend a prepared spell or available spell slot. You can apply any metamagic feats you know to this spell, but its total spell slot level must be a slot level you can normally cast.
Mythic Feats: Bonus non-mythic feat (Exotic Weapon Proficiency: bastard sword)
Hard to Kill (Ex): Whenever you're below 0 hit points, you automatically stabilize without needing to attempt a Constitution check. If you have an ability that allows you to act while below 0 hit points, you still lose hit points for taking actions, as specified by that ability. Bleed damage still causes you to lose hit points when below 0 hit points. In addition, you don't die until your total number of negative hit points is equal to or greater than double your Constitution score.
Surge 1d6 (Su): You can call upon your mythic power to overcome difficult challenges. You can expend one use of mythic power to increase any d20 roll you just made by rolling 1d6 and adding it to the result. Using this ability is an immediate action taken after the result of the original roll is revealed. This can change the outcome of the roll. The bonus die gained by using this ability increases to 1d8 at 4th tier, 1d10 at 7th tier, and 1d12 at 10th tier.
— Faith’s Reach (Su): Whenever you cast a divine spell with a range of touch, you can instead cast the spell with a range of 30 feet. If the spell normally requires a melee touch attack, it instead requires a ranged touch attack..
Caster Level 6
DC’s = 13 + spell level
Orisons (infinite): Create Water, Detect Magic, Detect Poison, Mending, Read Magic, Stabilize
Feats Heavy Armor Proficiency (1), Power Attack (3), Exotic Weapon Proficiency: bastard sword (Mythic 1)
Traits Omen, Touched by Divinity (Ragathiel; Destruction; True Strike
Skills: ACP -7 (20 total = 20 oracle + 0 Int)
Worn: Silver hound mask, silver holy symbol of Ragathiel, crusader’s uniform, +1 full plate armor, +2 cloak of resistance (Jeslyn), +1 light steel quick-draw shield, +1 Amulet of Natural Armor, +1 longsword of Iomedae, mwk cold iron morningstar, scorpion whip, 5 javelins, light crossbow, bolts, 2 bandoliers, belt pouch, scroll case, mwk backpack.
bandoliers x2: consumables and 2 daggers
Mwk backpack: waterskin, rations x5, 100 ft hemp rope, healer’s kit, spare crusader’s uniform, half-orc’s mercenary clothes, silver dragon scale
Belt pouch: Monies
silver dragon scale:
LINK: three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast resist elements—but only against electricity or cold.
Backstory & Personality:
Thomas Thorne was born the second of three children in a working-class family in a small town southwest of Kenabres. His father was a blacksmith of Taldan descent, as well as a former crusader from Kenabres. His mother was Varisian-born, an exotic beauty in Mendev, and the center of Thomas’s father’s world. Thomas—called Thom by his friends and family—grew up as many rural Mendevian boys do… working hard during the day and hearing glorious tales of crusaders, battles, and protecting the people. Dreaming of the day he could swear the oaths and take up the sword against the Worldwound.
He was a happy child. Handsome, athletic, and quick to make friends. His father was a fair hand as a smith, and–while they never had much in the way of material possessions—he and his siblings had a loving upbringing. Childhood flew by as childhoods do. At the prodding of his parents, Thom took on a few different local apprenticeships. While he was a fair hand (to varying degrees) at them all, and was generally well-liked by the masters, Thom never felt right about any one of them. With the confidence of all seventeen year old “men”, he felt the need to put his mark on the world. So after much discussion, bargaining, pleading, and promises, Thom’s parents finally relented, and Thom headed for Kenabres to join the Crusaders.
While the Crusaders might not be known for letting just anyone into their ranks (is this true?), Thom’s confidence, athleticism, and charm earned him a place in training. His father’s name didn’t hurt, either. Thom threw himself fully into becoming a warrior for good, and once again, he flourished. Not at everything, but at enough. He was used to hard work, capable with a blade, curious in his studies, and—possibly most important to his Crusade instructors—had a strong moral foundation and a heart for others.
He couldn’t wait for the day he was elevated to a full Crusader, but until that day, he at least had the upcoming Armasse to look forward to. The cadets were usually kept busy during Armasse, but there was always some excitement to find… some fun to be had in all the festivities. Thom and his friends couldn’t wait.
Thom was killed during the Armasse attack—run through by the foul steel of a demonic warrior. He remembers every horrific, painful detail… including the stark terror in the eyes of the older man he was trying to save.
Having grown up in a religious family, Thom had always wondered what would happen when he died. He could never have guessed at what he experienced, but what he experienced after the demon’s blade ripped his life from his body was not what most people experience, either. As the ever-present but never-noticed sensation of life slipped away from him, Thom didn’t see a white light in a tunnel or the boneyard of Pharasma. All Thom sensed was a great wrenching pull and a rushing sound… then the sound of a choir of millions of voices… talking, laughing, singing, shouting, screaming, sobbing. And behind it all, above it all, and encompassing it all was another voice. A great voice. A voice as wide and full as the ocean, as incomprehensible as the stars. For an infinite moment… a second that lasted a lifetime… the great voice spoke wordlessly into Thom’s mind.
Then he woke.
At first, all he sensed was pain. From head to toe, inside and out. It felt like some great giant had smashed him flat, kneaded him thoroughly, then roasted his skin. But it was sensation, and he embraced it like a frozen man embraces fire. Consciousness and awareness returned slowly. He fought groggily but clumsily to think straight. He blinked away the fog to see a world of blacks, whites, and grays… and he wasn’t at Armasse or even in Kenabres. He was in a world of darkness and stone. Caves?
He groaned as he clumsily tried to sit up, his body screaming in pain at every movement. And that’s when he noticed it.
He raised his hand to his face in the darkness, terror-filled panic quickening his pulse. The skin of his hand was ruined. Flayed. Scarred and peeling. Moreover, it wasn’t his hand, but a heavy, meaty hand with thick, callused pads and fingers. The cold shock of adrenaline raced through his veins and into his mind, clearing the fog. His whole body was… not his own. It was that of a half-orc. Thick, tough, strong… and clumsy. The clothes on the body were dirty, grimy, and torn… and covered far less than was decent. He waited each second for the nightmare to end. It didn’t.
Those three memories—his death, the transition, and waking up—along with the memories of the days since waking are all Thom remembers clearly. Every memory before that day—his childhood, his training, his family—are hazy and dreamlike. Like a memory of a dream. Confusing his mind further is an ocean of dreams that are not his own. The hazy, terrible, foreign memories of a child born an outcast. Hated. Rejected. The memories are of pain and fear. Of acts of barbarism and survival. And, the more memorable ones are those of violence, selfishness, and vileness. A life lived as a half-orc taking what he wants from a world that gave him nothing. A half-orc who made his living as a murderer, thug, and slave-taker. The two sets of memories are savagely sewn together to create a jarring tapestry in his mind.
Thom cultivates a strict mental discipline to hold his own memories close during waking hours… and fears the predations of brutal nightmares while asleep… which is often difficult.
Savage, alien, nightmare memories are not all that Thom shares his mind with since waking from his death, however. Whatever agent diverted Thom from Pharasma’s embrace—whatever entity drove his mind into the body of this wicked half-orc—also burned into his soul something unignorable. An urge, like an infinitely-large finger pressing on his conscience. A single beautiful, terrible purpose with two prongs…
Justice. Revenge. The two words scarred into the ruined skin of his new body’s forehead.
And while Thom can’t grasp the source and ultimate goal of the urge, he knows the target. And it’s never far from his mind. The filth of the Worldwound. To bring justice for those taken if possible, and revenge if necessary.
But with the urge came a strange power. Thom was never a good student of religion, but these don’t seem the powers of a cleric or paladin. His new powers are deeply seated in the overwhelming press of his Urge, and from what he can tell, they are what keep his new body functioning. Whatever agent chose Thom for the task gave him some tools to see it done.
In his new body, Thom knows no one will recognize him. He knows people will be repulsed by his appearance as he is himself. But he knows he has a task to accomplish.
So he picked himself up, outfitted himself with the tools necessary for the job (scavenging where necessary), and took the first step on the road towards his quarry.
Every painful step since is a step closer to learning what he is, and how he can accomplish his agent’s task.
Unfortunately, he’s a bit scarred by recent events. Being killed, being forcibly reborn into a foreign body, sharing memories with a murderous, vile creature, and having an unknown being of unknown power and goals ingrain an objective and alien abilities into your mind and soul will change things.
He’s still trying to sort out his emotions. Being in the new body has made him feel an outcast.
But Thom is still a young man of ideals and conviction. He struggles with his new demons, but he still desires to be the man his parents raised him to be… he just has to figure out if this is his permanent state or not.
Plus, Thom had aspirations to fight the filth of the Worldwound before Armasse happened… now it’s just a bit more personal.
But what is rarer still—and draws your eye immediately—is the silver mask. Finely wrought and pristinely polished, it is shaped in the face of a hound, and it covers the wearer’s features completely save two holes through which two black eyes stare back piercingly. On the forehead are two gracefully carved runes. One in Celestial meaning [i]Justice. The other in Abyssal meaning Revenge.
His movements are powerful but efficient, but there is a calculated hesitation to them, as well. And when he speaks—though the words are muffled both by the confines of the mask and the thick orc lips and tongue—the words are considered and measured… and have the sound of one city-raised.[/i]
Behind the Mask:
Thom’s half-orc body is ravaged, torn, and broken from top to bottom. For whatever reason, the pain never goes away, and the physical damage never heals. It causes him to move with a slow caution. His thick, powerful body is completely hairless, the skin a sickly, pale brown-gray.
His face is likewise cracked, scarred, and scabbed, like the recent victim of some terrible fire. On his forehead are two runes. One in Celestial and one in Abyssal, but both carved into the skin itself. Justice and Revenge.
It is terrible to have to look at, and he keeps himself hidden as much as possible.
Attributes (20 pt buy and possible progression):
str 18 :: 10 (+2 racial)
dex 10 :: 0
con 14 :: 5
int 10 :: 0
wis 8 :: -2
cha 15 :: 7
Mythic Spells (20 spells … too many?)