I would love to play a funny little gnome wizard who focusses on illusions and shadowmagic if you are interested.
I don't believe the adventurepath has chronicles for society does it?
No, the AP takes you from level 1 right up to 20, it's not even remotely Society compatible.
May I present Xanaphia a Sorcerer.
Roll will be Arcane spell-casting with an emphasis on Debuffing and battlefield control, although Wild Arcana as an Archmage should allow a lot of flexibility.
Planning to take Mystery Cultist as a prestige class allowing one use of Heal and summoning some celestial's.
Initial equipment is rubbish as she was not prepared for an adventure but as spells are her main strength that should not be a problem
Alright, cool. I'll leave it until tomorrow afternoon for anyone else to submit something, because I'd rather get moving than go into an extended waiting period again so quickly.
please consider Isabelle Anatine, Sorcerer who enjoys cooking and good coffee. She plans on finding her orcish and draconic roots and getting a bit better at being a fighter at fifth level, and then she really wants to grow up to be an archmage dragon disciple! Gosh who wouldn't.
Sorry you guys, I'm looking for a little bit more meat to a backstory than a line and a half. I'll give you guys through tonight to expand if you wish, since I have someone in PM asking for time to be extended a few hours to get their app in.
Just for some idea of what the characters who got in did, here's some backstories:
To very close friends only, he sometimes tells a story of his childhood. Like a lot of kids, he didn't know when he was getting in over his head, see, and one night, sneaking around the outskirts of the city, he was set upon by a horrid Dretch that had somehow made it through the wards. He laughs at it now, but to a small kid the relatively weak demon was almost deadly. A passing patrol saved him before he was slain, but he was in a coma for weeks before reviving.
Soon enough he joined the army, and was made a Sergeant almost immediately. Since then, he's seen hundreds of bright-eyed paladins rushing off to fight the demonic hordes... and had to write so many "We regret to inform you" letters that the names just blur together over time. He's gruff and prickly, but takes great care in making sure his soldiers have the best chance they can have to survive.
"Life's short, enjoy it while you got it," is a philosophy he lives by. Cayden Cailean is the closest deity to his heart, though he says the prayers to Iomedae when the other soldiers say them. Sometimes he'll mutter "Nur, nur, nur" while they're singing the hymns, depending on how cynical he feels that day, but he knows that the fresh-faced recruits, the newly-minted lieutenants, have to see "Sarge" in prayer with them.
A weakness for women, wine, and song is a flaw he'll admit to. A haunting doubt that the Worldwound will stay contained is one he won't.
His father Ansil was a planetouched halfling paladin of Erastil, and one of the group that fought against the Storm King alongside the Silver Dragon Terendelev. His mother, Rilka, was a fomer Chelish slave and cleric of Sarenrae was forced to stay behind in order to raise their infant son... despite her desire to take up her scimitar and cut down the Balor's hoarde.
Instead, she worked as a healer, using her divine gifts to save the lives of the Crusaders injured in battle... especially when the Kenteberes Wardstone was damaged and they were forced to flee their home to keep out of danger. Perhaps as a result of not being able to fight herself, Rilka dedicated herself to grooming Vardan to take up arms and fight the righteous fight as a blade of Sarenrae or Iomedae, trying to instil a strong sense of morals and, more importantly, a sense of duty... lessons she only redoubled when she learned of the death of her husband in combat against the Storm King's hoarde.
Vardan was quick to learn the morality, however, he chafed under the pressure to take up arms and march into the Worldwound. He attended the training and drills.. and yet, something in his soul longed for something more than a drab, martial life of duty. The life his mother promoted simply struck him as.... ugly.... somehow, and not only because of the Worldwound and its demons... but there was simply a lack of joy and beauty that he could not reconcile.
These feelings came to a head as his training finished... and so, rather than travel to Nerosyan and take his vows to Iomedae, he headed east. Using the money he was to offer to the Inheritor instead to travel across the Lake of Mists and Veils, out of Mendev and into Brevoy, heading toward the River Kingdoms to be the master of his own destiny...
There, he met "Lord" Nastir, a man who claimed to be fighting to create a small, stable pocket in the River Kingdoms. Nastir told the young warrior about his plans to build schools, roads, and even a bardic college -- and these ideas resonated within him. He offered his lance to the man's service, looking to fight the good fight for freedom, rather than face the meat-grinder of the Worldwound.
Unfortunately, the naivety that allowed Vardan to think that he was fighting the good fight for freedom was stripped from him in a rather dramatic fashion, when the "good man" he thought he was working for ordered the destruction of a village that could not pay its "tribute" in fish and textiles.
He objected, but to his own horror, did nothing as the innocent people were put to the sword, and the torch. He watched, horrified, as people he trusted, people he thought were noble of spirit, turned to looting and slaughter... until, finally, it became too much for him to bear. He turned to ride into the forest and away from the horror when he saw two of Nastir's men emerge from a hut with the comely young daughter of one of the weavers... calling her a "spoil of war". Something within him snapped, he could not allow the girl's beauty to be obliterated, and instead, he turned and ran through one of the men. He managed to fell the second, but not before he called out an alarm... Vardan barely had time to get the woman onto his pony and start fleeing before the bolts started to fly.
Thankfully, he managed to make it into the woods and escape, though he rode his poor, overburdened pony past the point of exhaustion to do it. He gave the poor animal a quick death, and brought the girl to the safety of Restov.
There, he beagn to drink, wracked by guilt from allowing the death.. and worse.. of the villagers, and mentally re-examining past missions to "collect taxes" or "deal with bandits" with a more critical eye... and he was not pleased with what he found when he did.
He began to spend more and more time in the darker parts of the city, using his coin to buy small escapes from the pain within him... heading out into the wilds, looking for things to sell to buy him a night's peace or release. As his coin began to run out, he began spending more and more time in the woods, eventually moving into the abandoned den of a she-wolf where he found a young cub. He began to raise the thing, hoping to sell it in exchange for a few more bottles or a night or two at the brothels.
It was on his way to the city for such a night that he first heard the song of Shelyn - literally, in the form of a young acolyte singing her praises while admiring a sunset. Something within Vardan made him stop and listen to her song, finding solace in the sad notes... and drawing hope from the messages of a deep, inner beauty that exists within.... By the end of her litany, Vardan found himself weeping. He approached the young priestess, seeking forgiveness and atonement for his past actions, and was shocked to learn that it was the girl he'd rescued a year before.
He offered her his lance and shield in service, for, despite himself, the duty his mother had driven into him would never allow him to sell the gear. She accepted, not for herself, but for the small flock of artisans that worship the Eternal Rose. Vardan returned to civilization, taking the young wolf as a new mount. Unlike the liturgies of his youth, he found himself excited to take in the teachings of Shelyn, to internalize the teachings of love, art, and especially, the inner beauty of the soul, and how it is not so easily tarnished, even from dark acts. Slowly returning to a place where he could love himself once again, he even began to send letters north to his mother. Vardan began to thrive, and started making ready to take his vows to the Eternal Rose, serving as a warrior of the faith, rather than a defender, when he received a letter from Kenteberes -- his mother had taken ill.
Unwilling to risk losing her before he could apologize in person, and worse, allowing her to die before she could see what he had become, Vardan said his goodbyes and headed north, a Cavalier returning home. He managed to meet his mother on her deathbed, and she forgave him for leaving, wishing him redemption... and told him the truth about his father, and how he carried the blood of an Angel... which is why she pressed him so hard.
The realizations rocked Vardan, and yet, hardened something within him to. He knew his duty now, and it was to protect the beauty of this world from the ugliness of what lay beyond the Worldwound... and to find and nurture the inner beauty in those who have lost hope, or allowed themselves to fall into only a grim existence. Now, finally, he was ready and willing to join in the Crusade.
Shortly after they turned 14 years old, the caravan travelled too close to Cheliax. A minor Chelaxian noble saw the girls and decided that he must have them, he approached the troupe and offered a large sum of money to buy them, and while their family said they would consider the offer, they really intended to run that night. The noble expected this from them however and sent troops to seize the children in the night, when the troupe found them they killed one of the soldiers and in the ensuing slaughter the troupe was wiped out and the twins taken to their new owner. The girls were taken in and treated well, their master had gone to too much effort to obtain them to allow any harm to come to them, and he tolerated their willful, fiery, nature as it added to their skills. As beautiful as the twins had become, he never took them to his bed, nor allowed anyone else to, for his own preferences were in a very different direction and he would not take the chance of another damaging them.
Two years later, the girls both sixteen, their owner was sent to Kenabres to help co-ordinate the Chelaxian involvement in the fifth crusade. He decided to take the two with him as his "personal servants" so that he would not be without his preferred entertainment. When nearing Kenabres, their company came under attack by cultists lead by an incubus who managed to capture the noble and the twins. They taken into the worldwound to be interrogated, thinking the twins his daughters, they felt they would make good leverage, and fun for later. When they found the truth, the incubus had the twins brought to his chambers.
Iolana was forced to watch her sister be taken and tortured to death by the monster, all the while it promised that she would be next. After it had finally disposed of Ilinica, it was called away, promising to come back for Iolana. While it was gone, she managed to get free from her restraints and flee, grabbing what clothing she could and taking a lock of her sisters hair. She was found by a strange woman with a holy symbol of Desna that she was always holding, and who was very good with a bow. She helped Iolana get away and pointed her towards Kenabres. Shortly thereafter, a group of crusaders found her and got her back to the city alive.
Iolana has spent the last year honing her skills as a performer for a living, and learning the basics of fighting demons so that she can hopefully accompany the crusaders and gain vengeance for her sister.
"While I cannot remember the years involving my infancy nor my early childhood, I can always recall two distinct feelings. The first was a distinct feeling that I didn't belong, that I was not to be accepted by many of the citizens of Kenabres. The second feeling was that I was being watched. I knew nothing of what was watching me, why, or if it even was watching me, but as I progressed through childhood, I would find that answer on my own. While at first, I found it easy to find friends in the large city, as time went on, it became impossible, due in no small part to the mysterious circumstances leading up to my arrival. Simply put, I was found sleeping inside of a temple of Iomedae as an infant. The doors had been locked, and there was no sign of intrusion, and yet, there I was. There was no note, no injuries upon my body...While at first, people might have seen it as a miracle, opinions changed rather quickly.
As I grew up, I was cursed by various type of misfortune. Anything I tried to grab out of backpacks and the like was sent flying across the floor. Anything else, I simply found difficult to grab, as though some invisible force was keeping it from me. The other children quickly became frightened of me, claiming I was cursed, or I was some malevolent being in the guise of a human. It got even worse when they began to bully me because of this...I found myself speaking in the language of the dead despite not knowing the language, which only reinforced the rumors. So it was that I found myself abandoned, though I can't say I'd blame them, were I in their positions at the time. With nobody to play with, I resigned myself to trying to discover what these strange happenings around myself were, but the library nearby proved fruitless, for the most part, to say nothing of their attitudes upon seeing me there.
With nowhere else to turn to, I remembered that the temples might have a grand library, and I found myself pulled to the church, as if by a guiding hand. The priest, unlike many of the villagers, accepted me with open arms, and I began researching. It felt different there...Peaceful, carefree, comforting. It was the first time I found myself content. Over time, I completed my research, and discovered I was indeed haunted by spirits. While they weren't inherently evil, they had a knack for causing mischief, and I'd be stuck with them for the rest of my life. Many others would see this as a curse and resign themselves to this fate, but I saw an opportunity. If I couldn't rid myself of these spirits, I would try to live with them, as partners and friends. I spoke with them, which did little for them, since they never responded, but I could at least calm myself by speaking of my troubles to them.
The priest of the temple allowed me to live in the temple, and soon after, I began to have strange dreams, visions of sorts. I would find myself in a brightly-lit area. In front of me, I would see a strange creature- a celestial gold dragon. Intimidating though it might've been, I had an instinctive feeling that it meant no harm, and I never found myself harmed in these dreams. Behind the dragon, I saw a silhouette of a figure in armor, carrying a shield and a longsword, with a massive army following behind. Confused at these sudden visions, I voiced my concerns to the priest, who had become like a father to me. He asked me to stay calm, and instead counted me to be blessed, as he explained to me that the dragon was a servant of Iomedae, the Inheritor.
It was then that I made the decision to read her holy texts, and I soon devoted my prayers to the Inheritor, finding my religion.
It's difficult to remember the exact time and place, but I grew used to the treatment around town, and I occasionally ventured out through Kenabres, running errands here and there for the priests at the temple. On one of my trips, I happened upon a young girl named Amanda. To date, she was the second person not to judge me, and I made it a point to go outside more, simply to play with her. One day, however, I visited my friend, but I spied from around the corner some strange hooded men grabbing her and several other children. I know not why I didn't chase after them that day, but I found myself too scared to follow, damning those children to their poor fates...It is something that still haunts me to this day, truth be told. I spent years reading the tales of Iomedae's acts, and I practiced the way of the longsword and shield. I'd given up just being a bystander. No, I was a victim no longer!
I prayed to Iomedae to bring protection to Amanda, and though I wandered for many days, I found the hideout of those insidious cultists. When I arrived, I was greeted by gore and bloodied corpses, and amongst the death, I found Amanda. Though she was alive, something about her was off. Something about her kneeling there, covered in blood, the very pinnacle of rage, and scarred black by some terrible magic...it frightened me to my very core. The sight itself was eerie, yes, but no, it was some other aspect of her...She was different, both in appearance and in terms of her soul. Something within me cried out, in that very moment... 'Kill her now! She must be slain for the greater good!' it screamed. And yet, I disobeyed. I tried to remove her scars with the restorative magic I'd learned, but it was no use. We traveled back to Kenabres together, and as we walked, I discovered myself. I swore I would prevent this from happening again, that I would fight in Iomedae's name against these foul demons that would threaten Golarion. I pledged to fight in the crusades as Amanda herself pledged. Though our reasons were different, our goals were the same.
I readied myself for battle, and as the years passed, a pair of strange wings burst forth from my back, as though they reflected the rays of the sun somehow. Public opinion of me lightened slightly as I brought my friend home, though I cannot speak for the other poor souls I could not save...Now, in this time of peace, I cannot help but feel uneasy, and I ready myself for combat once more, ready to prove myself not only to the citizens of Kenabres, but to myself, to Amanda, and to my deity. I shall become a protector of the innocent, a warrior in my deity's name."
Can't find Asmodea's, but I'm sure it was good.
Asmodea's backstory was in a .pdf along with her sheet.
I certainly don't just pick whichever backstory has the most paragraphs, but I do like to see some substance.
Sorry about the wait, decided to duck out early, but to leave some time for people to make some last-minute additions. That said, Xanaphia, you're in. This is the thread. Please check in and just pretend you've always been there. If you're not familiar with the early going of the path, I can post a summary in the discussion thread.