About Vincent RacheCharacter Sheet:
Male Tiefling Slayer 1 Archetypes Cleaner/Deliverer
LG Medium humanoid (human), outsider (native) Init +2, Senses Perception +6; Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 120ft =================================================
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Melee Ranged =================================================
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Ancestry Devil Typical Alignment LE
Pass for Human: Discrimination against tieflings with horrifically fiendish features is so intense that even tieflings look up to those precious few of their kind who can pass as human. These tieflings have otherworldly features that are so subtle, they aren’t often noticed unless the tiefling points them out (for example, eyes that flash red in the throes of passion, or fingernails that are naturally hard and pointed). Such a tiefling doesn’t need to succeed at a Disguise check to appear to be human and count as humanoid (human) as well as outsider (native) for all purposes (such as humanoid-affecting spells like charm person or enlarge person). The tiefling does not automatically gain his associated outsider language (but may select it as a bonus language if his Intelligence score is high enough), and he may not select other racial traits that would grant him obviously fiendish features (such as the fiendish sprinter, maw or claw, prehensile tail, scaled skin, or vestigial wings alternate racial traits listed in the Advanced Race Guide). This ability alters the tiefling’s type, subtype, and languages. Light from the Darkness: Tieflings who deny the evil of their heritage to go on to become heroes refuse to use the dark magic of their blood, but their struggle grants them uncanny resilience against evil’s touch. As long as they retain a good alignment, they gain the aasimar’s incorruptible alternate racial trait (Advanced Race Guide 85). This racial trait replaces the spell-like ability racial trait.
Slayer FCB: +1 skill rank/level =================================================
Studied Target (Ex): A slayer can study an opponent he can see as a move action. The slayer then gains a +1 bonus on Bluff, Knowledge, Perception, Sense Motive, and Survival checks attempted against that opponent, and a +1 bonus on weapon attack and damage rolls against it. The DCs of slayer class abilities against that opponent increase by 1. A slayer can only maintain these bonuses against one opponent at a time; these bonuses remain in effect until either the opponent is dead or the slayer studies a new target. If a slayer deals sneak attack damage to a target, he can study that target as an immediate action, allowing him to apply his studied target bonuses against that target (including to the normal weapon damage roll). At 5th, 10th, 15th, and 20th levels, the bonuses on weapon attack, damage rolls, and skill checks and to slayer DCs against a studied target increase by 1. In addition, at each such interval, the slayer is able to maintain these bonuses against an additional studied target at the same time. The slayer may discard this connection to a studied target as a free action, allowing him to study another target in its place. At 7th level, a slayer can study an opponent as a move or swift action. Deceitful: At 1st level, a cleaner becomes skilled at deceiving others, and gains Deceitful as a bonus feat. This ability replaces track. =================================================
+=Class Skill, *=Trained Only Ranks will go into Bluff, Disguise, Knowledge (Planes), Knowledge (Religion), Perception, Sense Motive, Stealth, Survival
Background:
“This is my fault!” my mother whimpered, tears running between her fingers.
“Darling, it’s not your fault. It’s going to be fine,” dad said soothingly. “HE IS OBVIOUSLY NOT FINE!” she shrieked. Dad sighed. “He’s just going through a phase. Everybody does. I did. You… still are,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. She just glared at him. “Being a tiefling is not a phase!” “Yes, but it’s not like it’s obvious. We’re his parents and we didn’t even know. They only found out by accident. It’ll be ok.” “If people find out, they will hurt him! He won’t have any friends, he won’t be able to get a job, or a wife!” I almost laughed. I didn’t want any friends. Or a job. Or a wife. “Honey, please calm down. It’s going to be ok. He can work for me. I know it won’t be his favorite, but he’s a hard worker, and he’s not dumb. He’ll do well.” And there was the only flaw I had ever found in my father. His obsession with work. Not that I could truly complain. We had all reaped the vast rewards of his fervor; in just the span of 20 years he went from a baker’s apprentice to a highly respected pastry chef throughout the country, going from living in what could best be described as a hovel, to owning a manor house in the Greens. And he was a good man. Calm, intelligent, kind, and patient, just about the best father one could possibly have. But as far as he was concerned, if you would just work, everything else would be fine. Admittedly, many years down the road I would come to see that he was far more right than he was wrong. But I was just a dumb kid then. What could you expect? “But he’s not happy!” my mother wailed. And then there was my mother. I was… very conflicted about her. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if she thought that it would be in my best interest, she would chew her own hand off. She had made it clear my entire life that I and my brothers were her number one priority. The problem was… she was emotionally unstable, controlling, and… weak. I don’t know how else to describe it. She just could not keep her emotions in check long enough to actually think through anything. So we mostly just spent all our time arguing about what I was doing with my life. My brothers had it easier. They were both younger than me, and far more socially adept, easily connecting to the upper crust society that we lived in now. They couldn’t remember how life had been before we lived in the Greens. They couldn’t remember having to constantly look over your shoulder whenever you went outside, or what being hungry was like. None of the people we were around now knew anything about that. How was I supposed to properly represent our family to the nobility when I had absolutely nothing in common with any of them? Another problem is that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. While I loved and respected my father, the idea of being a baker the rest of my life was unappealing at best. My best thought was to join the military, which my pacifist father was surprisingly supportive of. Apparently that more than qualified as work in his eyes, and was thus a worthy endeavor. His words, not mine.
I sighed as my mother continued arguing and my father continued to try and calm her down. Then there was the fact that I was a tiefling. That complicated matters. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Surprisingly it didn’t seem to increase my self-loathing. I felt more or less indifferent about it. While mother was right, in that if people found out it would be bad for both me and my family, it was very difficult to tell. It was just another way I was weak. Just another way I was a failure. I hated weakness. I hated the fact that I wasn’t the best at everything. Stupid, I know. I can see how foolish that was now. But then? Then it swamped me. Every second of every day. If one of the squires that I usually hung out with beat me in a race, I’d be self-destructive for days, running until I passed out, then getting up and running some more. If somebody beat me in an arm wrestling contest, I would do push-ups until I couldn’t move my arms at all. It was like that with everything. I managed to hide it from what few friends I had. I kept them all at a distance anyway. But my family, and my mother in particular, noticed. And it just got worse and worse as I got older. Eventually my mother decided to take action. She couldn’t bear to see me hate myself any longer. I fear I’ve been perhaps not as generous towards my mother as I should be. For all her faults, she was not mean or cruel. As I said, she genuinely wanted the best for me. And she was a surprisingly intelligent woman. Once she got her emotions under control, anyway. So she did her research. Asked around. Consulted sages and priests and experts in hundreds of different fields. All without any of us knowing. One day, with little to no warning, she dragged me off. We wound our way through streets that were entirely unfamiliar to me, before arriving at a larger, older building. She knocked strangely, and after a moment, we were inside. “Hello,” one man said. His voice was authoritative. So much so that I started standing straighter and tried my best to look not-weak. “Here he is,” she said quietly, her hand gripping mine almost painfully. The man walked towards us and looked into my eyes. What little emotion I had had on my face I tried to make disappear. I didn’t know what was going on exactly, but I knew I was being judged. I had done it to myself often enough. “Oh yes. We can use him,” the man said. My mother started crying and thanking him. And that was that. From then on, I was in training to be a Crimson Templar, an anointed knight of the empyreal lord Ragathiel. I must admit, she could probably not have found a better match for me in all of existence. While my father was not quite as thrilled, as I’m sure he suspected that the cult of Ragathiel was not entirely legal, he still gave his blessing. And so for the next year I stayed with Ragathiel’s cult there in Kintargo. They trained and taught me, and just as my mother had hoped, my self-loathing was slowly replaced with purpose and clarity. It was odd. I had never been pleased with myself or my life before. And now I was. It was a very strange revelation. All that is backstory though. My life didn’t really start until the day I was assigned to follow Ser Garrik to the protest at Aria Park… |
