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Friday, 28th May, 2004, 04:30 AM #1
Novice (Lvl 1)
PCs Still Kicking Puppies PBP Characters
Here's the thread for the resumed, vile Puppy-Kicking PCs PBP game. All accepted players should put their full characters here. After you post, you can always change anything (in fact, I encourage adding more to your background stories), just drop me a note in the OOC thread when you do.
Very minor changes (fixing misspellings or grammar, changes to your equipment list from events in-character, etc) don't need to be reported.
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Friday, 28th May, 2004, 04:30 AM #2
Acolyte (Lvl 2)
Female Human Cleric 4 of Wee Jas
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Height: 5' 2''
Eyes: Dark Blue
Str: 10 (+0) [2 points]
Dex: 14 (+2) [6 points]
Con: 10 (+0) [2 points]
Int: 12 (+1) [4 points]
Wis: 16 (+3) [10 points, +1 level]
Cha: 14 (+2) [6 points]
Class and Racial Abilities:
No favored class, free feat at first level, 4 skill points at first level, 1 extra skill points at all other levels, rebuke dead 5/day, free conversion to inflict spells, Death and Law domains.
Hit Dice: 4d8
AC: 16 (+2 Dex, +4 armor)
Init: +2 (+2 Dex)
Fortitude +4 [+4 base, +0 Con]
Reflex +3 [+1 base, +2 Dex]
Will +7 [+4 base, +3 Wis]
+1 circumstance bonus on saving throws against mind-affecting effects, poison, sleep, paralysis, stunning, and disease due to Lichloved feat.
Melee Atk: +4 (1d4/19-20/x2 MW medium silver dagger) or +3 (1d6/x2 MW light mace)
Ranged Atk: +5 (1d8/19-20/x2/80 ft., light crossbow)
Concentration +4 [4 ranks, +0 Con]
Diplomacy +6 [4 ranks, +2 Cha] (+5 versus evil creatures)
Intimidate +2 [1cc rank, +2 Cha] (+4 versus evil creatures)
Knowledge (arcana) +4 [3 ranks, +1 Int]
Knowledge (religion) +6 [5 ranks, +1 Int]
Knowledge (the planes) +2 [1 ranks, +1 Int]
Profession (mortician) +6 [3 ranks, +3 Wis]
Ride +4 [4 cc ranks, +2 Dex]
Spellcraft +7 [3 ranks, +2 Int, +2 synergy from Knowledge (arcana)]
Evil Brand (human bonus)
Lichloved (1st level)
Malign Spell Focus (3rd level)
Languages: Common, Infernal, Draconic
Save DC +3
0th - Read Magic, Guidance, Light, Cure Minor Wounds
1st - Cure Light Wounds x2, Divine Favor, Magic Stone (D) - Cause Fear
2nd - Align Weapon, Hold Person, Undetecable Alignment (D) - Death Knell
Light Warhorse - 150gp
Bit and bridle - 2gp
Riding saddle - 10gp
Saddlebags - 4gp
Wearing or carrying
Belt pouch 1gp
MW Silver dagger 310gp
MW Light mace 305gp
MW Chain shirt 250gp
Iron holy symbol of Wee Jas 25gp
-Everburning torch 110gp
-Sunrods (5) 10gp
-Flint and steel 1gp
-50 ft. silk rope 10gp
-Paper (10 sheets) 4gp
-Ink (two vials) 16gp
-Trail rations (20 days worth) 10gp
-Cleric's vestments 5gp
-Cold weather outfit 8gp
-4 Flasks unholy water 100gp
-Scroll of lesser restoration 150gp
-Scroll of animate dead 625gp
-2 Potions of cure light wounds 100gp
-Wand of detect magic 375gp
Lydia is a short, petite woman with an aura of absolute competence around her. She keeps her raven-black hair elaborately braided, so it is hard to tell how long it is. Her dark blue eyes and fair skin all collaborate to make her fairly attractive, but her cool demeanor tends to keep people away.
She wears dark gray traveling leathers when she's traveling, with touches of red at her shirt, laces on her jerkin, stitches, and her boots. Over it all she wears a black cloak. On a chain around her neck is a red-enameled iron holy symbol of Wee Jas, though she rarely displays it if she thinks it would be unwise. Also, she bears an evil brand of Wee Jas' darkest desires on her chest. Normally she covers it, but when she wants to impress someone she will unlace her shirt slightly to let it show.
Lydia carries an elaborate black mace with a red head that she also uses in her ceremonies to Wee Jas. It's carved with symbols of death. She also carries a silver dagger with a ruby in the pommel as well as a more mundane crossbow.
When performing a ceremony for Wee Jas, she wears the ruby red robes and elaborate headdress of her church.
Lydia travels on a black horse of good breeding, its tack dyed to match her clothes. When possible she will remain on horseback to keep her head higher than those she is addressing... or threatening.
Personality and Background:
Lydia is a cool, quietly aloof woman with a deep passion for raising the dead. A daughter of a prominent minor noble of an ancient lineage, she grew up a disappointment to her family. The youngest of eight siblings (five older brothers and three older sisters), she was teased unmercifully for her differences from her family. She was far shorter than all of them, raven-haired to their brown curls, blue-eyed to their hazel. She enjoyed books, reading, and esoteric subjects of magic and religion, while her siblings had to practically be forced into even learning to write their own names.
Her parents were actually rather proud of her accomplishments, though not Lydia herself. She was smart enough to keep the family chronicles and family tree up to date, which meant they didn't have to pay a scholar to do it for them. When she was able to meet their expectations they would give her cool word of praise. However, she was never given a hug, never told she was loved, and never really thought she was nothing more than a convenient replacement for an otherwise expensive service. But her siblings wouldn't accept the fact that she received any kind of special attention at all.
In the cruel manner of children her siblings set out to break her spirit. They would steal her books, destroy her notes, push or trip her around the manner, and call her all sorts of names. Whenever she obtained a pet, one of her sisters would let it out or her brothers would kill it. Eventually, after many tears, she started ignoring the dead pets and continued to talk to them as if they were still alive. Realizing that she still got some comfort in talking to their corpses, she coped.
Seeing that she was becoming inured to their cruelty, her siblings opted for a more permanent method of getting rid of their troublesome sister. One night they stole into her room, bludgeoned her into unconsciousness and locked her in the family crypt with their recently deceased uncle. She regained consciousness in total darkness and in pain. Feeling her way around, she found the corpse of her uncle lying in state. Relieved she climbed next to him and snuggled into his arms, as he wouldn't leave her or rebuke her like her parents of siblings.
When she lapsed into unconsciousness again, she dreamed of some of the things she had read before, particularly about Wee Jas, the Ruby Sorceress. She remembered that she had read that sometimes Wee Jas' worshippers could create undead, though she didn't remember much because her horrified teacher had taken that book away from her when he realized what she was reading.
Upon waking she kneeled on her uncle's chest and began to pray into the darkness. To be able to raise the dead, to take an unresisting companion that would never criticize her or hurt her wherever she went was a dream she longed to fulfill. Hearing her plea, Wee Jas sent her a vision, demanding her obedience in exchange for power. As Wee Jas' words promised real rewards for her service, Lydia agreed wholeheartedly.
It was two days before anyone in the family estate missed Lydia, and another day before anyone heard her chanting in the crypt. Opening it with trepidation, they found Lydia with her uncle's corpse. Raising her hands above her head she blasted them with fear, causing them to flee before her. Giddy with the power of seeing others fear her, she quickly went to her father's vault and took the money that was hers by right and inheritance. Also have taken her uncle's dagger and her father's best horse, she set off. She took the name Shardweaver to represent the way she had woven together the shards of her shattered life into a new whole.
Lydia has been working hard for two years in order to obtain the power to raise the dead. She knows she is close to being able to do it herself, but for now has just a precious single scroll with which to do it. She's searching for the perfect corpse to be her companion before she casts the spell.
Lydia is a somewhat frail-seeming woman with several unhealthy obsessions and burning passions. She follows Wee Jas fervently, believing that She rescued Lydia from her hellish home life. She gladly smites enemies of her goddess, hoping to prove herself enough so that one day she might have a whole family of undead to care for her.
She cares far more for undead than for the living, as the living tend to bring her nothing but misery. If she could she would kill the world and raise them all as compliant undead. More than once she has longed for the purity of lichdom and sees that as a great goal for the glory of Wee Jas.
Last edited by Isida Kep'Tukari; Monday, 27th September, 2004 at 02:04 AM.
Friday, 28th May, 2004, 05:47 AM #3
Scout (Lvl 6)
- Join Date
- Mar 2004
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ø Block Fangor the Fierce
More updates to come...
Name: Aligor Thunderaxe
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Str: 17 +3 (10p.) Level: 4 XP: 6000
Dex: 14 +2 (6p.) BAB: +4 HP: 49 (1d10/1d12+3)
Con: 16 +3 (+2 Dwarf, 6p.) Grapple:+7 Dmg Red:0/0
Int: 10 +0 (2p.) Speed:*30' Spell Res:0
Wis: 10 +0 (2p.) Init:+2 Spell Save:+2
Cha: 8 -1 (-2 Dwarf, 2p.) ArmClassPen:-4 Spell Fail: 40%
Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total
Armor: 10 +6 +2 +2 +0 +0 +0 +20
Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 20
Base Mod Misc Total
Fort: 6 +3 +9
Ref: 0 +2 +2
Will: 0 +0 +0
Weapon Attack Damage Critical
Masterwork Dwarven Waraxe +8, 1d10+3 dmg, x3
Composite Shortbow (+3 Strength) +6, 1d6+3 dmg, x3
Languages: Dwarven, Common, Abyssal
Abilities: Speed, Darkvision 60', Stonecunning (+2 Search), Wpn Familiarity
(Dwarven Urgosh&Dwarven Waraxe), Stability (+4 vs Bull Rush or Tripped), +2 Poison Save,
+2 Spell Save, +1 Attack Bonus vs Orc/Goblin, +4 Dodge vs Giants, +2 Appraise Stone/Metal,
+2 Craft Stone/Metal, Fast Movement, Rage (+4 Str&Con, +2 Will Save, -2 AC)
Feats: Power Attack, Quickdraw, Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Uncanny Dodge
Skill Points: 16+2+2=4Fighter, 16Barbarian Max Ranks: 6/3
Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total
*Climb 1 +3 +4
*Craft 0 +0 +2 +2
*Handle Animal 4 -1 +3
*Intimidate 7 -1 +6
*Jump 0 +3 +3
**Listen 4 +0 +4
*Ride 2 +2 +4
**Survival 4 +0 +2
*Swim 0 +3 +3
Speak Language(CC) 1 0 1 (Abyssal)
Equipment: Cost Weight
+1 Masterwork Breastplate 1350gp 30lb
Composite Shortbow +3 Strength 300gp 2lb
Masterwork Hvy Steel Shield 170gp 15lb
Arrows (20) 1gp 3lb
Guard Dog (Bane) 25gp -
Backpack 2gp 2lb
Belt Pouch 1gp 0.5lb
Map to Ruins 25pp -
Area Map -
Black Pearl (500gp) -
Total Weight:52.5lb Money: 60pp 346gp 0sp 0cp
Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push
Max Weight: 86 173 260 260 1300
Hair: Brownish Red
Appearance: Aligor appears to be a normal dwarf if you saw him from afar, but upon nearing him, you would be able to tell that he is different. His skin is tattooed with various symbols and writings. His breastplate armour appears to be rusted, but upon closer inspection, you will see that the darker color is from blood. He has fashioned it this way and also adorns himself with trinkets, as he likes to call them. They range from a necklace of ears that he keeps tucked in for the most part, some claws hanging from his belt, and other vile items from his past jobs. He is a stout dwarf, and is proud and boastful, often seen drinking at the bar. His hair is a redish brown and is usually kept braided and out of his face for the most part. When out on the road, he might let it loose, as he has other things to worry about. He keeps his dwarven waraxe in great condition and the blade is razor sharp and strapped to his shoulder.
His shortbow is of fine quality and slung about his back. He keeps a belt pouch full and ready with any items that he may deem necessary for that day. Usually this includes vials of potions and oftentimes vile poisons and concoctions that he might purchase from time to time.
Background: Aligor grew up in a fairly good sized city with a large dwarven population. As a kid, he was usually seen and regarded as a bully at times, muscling his way through the crowds, pushing the smaller kids to the side, etc. As he grew, he began to view life as one big adventure. He ususally lived life as if there was no tomorrow. His actions showed of a mind that does not take into account for repurcussions. He lived life one day at a time. He then grew too bold and too dangerous for the elders to put up with after he beat a person half to death. Their recourse was to gather the best alchemists and magic users, and conjure a drug for him. This drug was meant to wipe out his mind so that they could mold him into what they wanted, an obedient servant. To their surprise, the drug almost killed him, and while he lay
there dying, they decided that the best thing to do was to send him to a distant place, and hope he never returned. They knew if he lived past the drug and its affects, that he would not have a memory anymore. He wouldn't know where he came from, or how he got to where he is. Thus, they teleported him to a distant place unknown to him.
When he awoke, he found himself in an arid place, devoid of much of the plantlife that he was accustomed to. Seeing that his memory was fading from him and that it was hard to grasp what exactly was taking place, he saw distant light of a town. Finding that he had a pack and a weapon, he headed out to the direction of this town. On the way there, a group of three raiders
attacked him. Without hesitation, and with moves that just seemed as though they were reflexes, he somehow managed to kill 2 of them before the last ran away. A little faint from the fight, he could not pursue. He rested and went through the business of searching the bodies for anything of use. With the pouch of gold he found and the items on their bodies, he set out for
the town. As he arrived in town, he made his way to the inn, and drank the night away, trying to remember anything. All he could remember was his name, Aligor Thunderaxe. Not knowing what exactly to do, he began performing odd jobs in town, which included 'repossesing' items for
others, sometimes a little muscle for those wanting others to abide by certain rules, and even as just a hired sword for unsavory tasks.
He grew to be a promising fighter, and during a drinking bout, he found that his anger could fuel his rage and power. He began learning to harness this rage and use it when needed. His new tendencies seem to be to hack away at his opponents, and if they proved a worthy adversary, he would take a keepsake, such as the ears, claws, fangs, etc. He is now looking more like a
barbarian with all of his trophies and sometimes displaying them on him. He is also leaningtowards canibalistic tendencies.
Last edited by Fangor the Fierce; Tuesday, 5th October, 2004 at 03:43 PM. Reason: Updated Level
Friday, 28th May, 2004, 06:02 AM #4
Gwyn ap Fomor, Human Half-fiend1/Ranger 3 (non-casting variant)
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Weight: 180 lbs.
Str 14 (6 points)
Dex 14 (4 points, +2 template)
Con 14 (6 points)
Int 12 (4 points)
Wis 10 (2 points)
Cha 14 (6 points)
Heal +6 [6 ranks]
Hide +8 [6 ranks, +2 Dex]
Intimidate +10 [6 ranks, +2 Cha, +2 feat]
Listen +6 [6 ranks]
Move Silently +8 [6 ranks, +2 Dex]
Search +7 [6 ranks, +1 Int]
Spot +6 [6 ranks]
Survival +6 [6 ranks]
Feats: Improved Buckler Defense, Cosmopolitan: Intimidate, TWF (bonus), Track (bonus), Endurance (bonus), Blind-fight
Class Abilities: Favored enemy +2 (humans), Wild Empathy (+5)
Racial Abilities: Darkness 3/day, claws (1d4 damage), outsider, natural armor +1, darkvision 60 feet
AC: 19 (Dex +2, armor +5, shield +1, natural +1)
Attacks: +6 scimitar, +4 scimitar/+4 pick, +6 composite longbow, +5 truncheon
Damage: 1d6+2, 18-20/x2 scimitar, 1d4+1 20/x4 pick, 1d8+2 longbow, 1d8+2 truncheon
EQ: +1 chain shirt, MW buckler, MW scimitar, MW light pick, MW composite longbow mighty +2, truncheon, 3 potions of CLW, 60 arrows, 22 gp.
Appearance: Gwyn dresses in drab browns and greens when in the woods; in civilization, he prefers dark grays. He is the stereotypical hooded stranger in a bar, tall, dark-haired, and strangely handsome, at least initially. He appears sympathetic, almost friendly, to most strangers, but a perceptive individual will note that the smile never reaches his ruby eyes.
Background: Gwyn was born of the violent union of a balor and a hapless milkmaid. At eight months, he tore his way free of his mother's womb, impatient to enter the world he already viewed as his playpen. Unsurprisingly, the villagers exposed him on a mountaintop, in the firm knowledge that the gods would dispose of this demonspawned monstrosity. Instead, he crawled his way to the nearest road, where he was found by pilgrims and brought to an orphanage. It took the monks, followers of the god of mercy, nine years before they admitted to themselves that Gwyn was irredeemably evil, during which time he had tortured and tormented the other three dozen orphans. When the paladin arrived to dispatch him (the monks being sworn to pacifism), Gwyn fled into the wilderness. In the decade that followed, he has gone back and forth between solitary mayhem and group brigandage, though most bandits can only tolerate him so long before even the hardest hearts are sickened.
Personality: To call Gwyn "sadistic" is as great an understatement as calling the tarrasque "capable in combat." He delights only in the unmitigated terror of others; physical suffering is amusing, but ultimately inadequate. As a result of his fiendish blood, he considers himself inherently superior to almost every humanoid, and this superiority gives him not only a right, but an obligation, to use lesser beings as his playthings. Oddly, he has a strong sense of beauty; while he delights in shattering minds, especially of young women, he refuses to mar their faces, and were he to burn down a cathedral, he would likely take the time to remove the stained glass windows, while leaving the screaming parishioners inside.
Last edited by Paxus Asclepius; Tuesday, 5th October, 2004 at 05:02 AM.
"What do you want?"
"I want to get the hell out of here!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, we're fresh out of that. I'm afraid all we have left is untimely death!"
Friday, 28th May, 2004, 06:28 AM #5
Acolyte (Lvl 2)
Female half-fiend 1/Rogue 3
Weight: 135 lbs
Age: probably about 20
Patron Diety: Masque
Init: 6 [+4 Dex +2 Blooded]
STR 10 (+0) [2 Pts]
DEX 19 (+4) [13 Pts, +2 Race]
CON 12 (+1) [4 Pts]
INT 12 (+1) [4 Pts]
WIS 8 (-1) [0 Pts]
CHA 13 (+1) [5 Pts]
Light Load: 33 lb or less
Med. Load: 34-66 lbs
Heavy Load: 67-100 lbs
19 [10 base + 4Dex +1 Natural +4 armor]
Fort +2 [1 base +1 stat+ 0 misc]
Ref +7 [3 base +4 stat +0 misc]
Will +0 [1 base -1 stat +0 misc]
Base Attack +2
MW Rapier +7 melee [+2 base +4 Dex +1 MW] (Weapon Finess)
Daggers +6 melee [+2 base +4 Dex] (Weapon Finess)
Daggers +6 ranged [+2 base +4 Dex]
Claws x2 +6 melee [+2 base +4 Dex] (Weapon Finess)
MW Rapier 1d6+0, Crit range: 18-20/x2
Daggers 1d4+0, Crit range: 19-20/x2 (-1 damage for silver dagger only)
Claws x2 1d4+0, Crit range: 20/x2
Sneak Attack, +2d6
Bluff (Cha) 7 [6+1+0]
Diplomacy (Cha) 7 [4+1+2 bluff]
Disable Device (Int) 11 [5+4+2 MW thieves' tools]
Disguise (Cha) 7/9* or 9#/11*# [6+1+2bluff*+2kit#]
Hide (Dex) 10 [6+4+0]
Intimidate (Cha) 4 [1+1+2 bluff]
Listen (Wis) 3 [4-1+0]
Move Silently (Dex) 10 [6+4+0]
Open Lock (Dex) 11 [5+4+2 MW thieves' tools]
Ride (Dex) 5/7** [1+4+2 saddle**]
Search (Int) 6 [5+1+0]
Sleight of Hand (Dex)11 [5+4+2 bluff]
Spot (Wis) 6 [5-1+2 blooded]
Tumble (Dex) 5 [1+4+0]
* bonus to acting "in character" only
** bonus to checks related to staying in the saddle only
# bonus only when the disguise kit is being used
Blooded (Player's Guide to Faerun) [Racial]
Weapon Finess (PHB) [Level 1]
Quicker then the Eye (Song & Silence) [Level 3]
Wish List: Quick Draw (PHB)
Racial Abilities (1st level half-fiend):
Natural Armor +1
2 claws: 1d4 each
Darkvision 60 ft
Spell-like abilities: Darkness 3/day
Racial Abilities (human):
Free feat @ 1st level
4 extra skill points @ first level
1 extra skill point per level
Speed 30 ft
Favored class: Any
Class Abilities (3rd level Rogue):
Sneak Attack +2d6
Trap Sense +1
Character Level Abilities/Limits:
Skill Max ranks: Class 5 Cross-class 2.5
Current XP: 3,000
Needed for next level: 6,000
Shadow, Light Warhorse, solid black (150 gp)
Bit and Bridle, dyed silver-grey (2 gp)
Military Saddle, dyed silver-grey (60 gp)
Saddlebags, dyed silver-grey (4 gp)
Clothing, various outfits (150 gp)
*Cloak, velvet and silk, sewn with interior pockets (20 gp) (worn; 2 lb)
MW Thieves' Tools (100 gp) (carried about person; 2 lb)
*Weighted dice, black (3 sp) (belt pouch; > lb)
*Normal dice, black (3 cp) (belt pouch; > lb)
*Deck of marked cards (3 sp) (cloak pocket; > lb)
*Deck of unmarked cards (3 cp) (cloak pocket; > lb)
Bedroll (1 sp)
Caltrops x2 bags (2 gp)
*Silver Hip Flask, inscribed with ornate "T" (5 sp) (pocket; 1.5 lb; full)
Flint & Steel (1 gp) (belt pouch; > lb)
@Grappling Hook, collapsible (3 gp)
Lantern, Hooded (7 gp)
Oil, 5 pints (5 sp)
*Silver Tankard, inscribed with ornate "T" (1 gp)
Belt Pouch, black leather, x2 (2 gp) (worn; 1 lb )
Silk Rope, 50 ft (10 gp)
@Tent, one person (5 gp)
Waterskin x2 (2 gp)
Whetstone (2 cp) (belt pouch; 1 lb)
Acid flask x2 (20 gp)
Thunderstone x3 (90 gp) (belt pouch; 3 lb)
Smokestick x3 (60 gp) (belt pouch; 1.5 lb)
Disguise kit, 10 uses (50 gp)
@Wrist sheath, black leather x2 (40 gp) (worn; > lb)
*Back sheath, black leather, designed to be worn under shirt (30 gp) (worn; > lb)
*Thigh sheath x2, black leather (40 gp) (worn; > lb)
Mithral Shirt (1,100 gp) (worn under clothes; 10 lb)
MW Rapier (320 gp) (worn; 2 lb)
Daggers, Steel x3 (6 gp) (worn; 3 lb)
Dagger, Cold Iron x2 (8 gp) (worn; 2 lb)
Dagger, Silver, Alchemical (22 gp) (worn; 1 lb)
MW Crossbow, light (335 gp)
Bolts x30 (3 gp)
Bottles of alcoholic beverages:
*Krackish, Orcish beer (5 gp)
@Dragonbite Bitter ale (15 gp)
@Frenzywater spirits (15 gp)
@Mushroom Wine (20 gp)
8 potions of Cure Light in padded box.
1 potion of Cure Light (cloak pocket)
(2 GP, all silver and copper carried in 2nd belt pouch; > lb)
~ 2 diamond wedding bands, 400 gp each
~ 2 "Special Visitor" passes to a festival of Fharlanghn, to be held early in the week after the battle with Hex outside Boone's
~ Half of a heart-shaped platinum medallion that looks very expertly made, with intricate design work. Probably be hard to sell without the other half, though.
*Modified price to reflect changes to item
@Source: Arms & Equipment Guide
If carry/wear location not listed, it is carried in saddlebags.
Aprox. weight carried: 32 lbs
T'aria grew up on the streets of one of the least savory areas of the city. Having no memory of her parents, and having the phrase “cursed spawn of the lower planes” flung at her many times, she was forced to do what she could to survive as it was clear that no help was forthcoming. Most of her childhood was spent in a struggle of survival, of attempting not to be noticed by those stronger than she, by living off of the scraps of others, and stealing from those who would not care, or would not notice. Somehow, she escaped the notice of the Thieves’ Guild in until she was 16, when T'aria made the mistake of lifting a fat purse from one of the higher-ranking members of the Guild. The guild member, surprised at the young cambion’s audacity and self-taught skill, sponsored her into the Guild. Always a dexterous individual (of both body and mind), T’aria took the training the Guild offered and learned all that her mentor had to teach her quickly. As she grew more confident in her skills, she also became more confident of her wishes – to be Guildmaster of the entire Thieves’ Guild. And she wanted it now. However, skill can only take one so far so fast in the Guild’s hierarchy. Her mentor in the Guild stood in her way of promotion, and seeing as how she had nothing further to learn from him that she couldn't learn herself, she arranged to have him disposed of. However, before she could do the deed herself, he traveled to his country cabin in the woods some ways outside of town for vacation. Deciding that this would be the perfect time for his 'accidental' death, T'aria contacted the local brigands that haunt the woods. They were linked to the Guild as well, and the leader was hesitant to order any of his men to kill a ranking member in the Guild. However, after T'aria broke off negotations with the brigands, an individual from the band approached her and said he would do the job. This man, Gwyn by name, shared her superior heritage as a half-fiend, and was woods-wise - the perfect hitman for the job. Since that time the two have worked together on several occasions that were benefical to both parties.
Her mentor's murder set a modus operandi for her, and T'aria's promotions in the Guild became assisted by the mysterious resignations or deaths of those ahead of her. Although many suspected her helping her superiors to meet their gods or for blackmailing them into resigning, no evidence was ever found to indicate her in any such doings. Nonetheless, any direct superior of hers felt it wise to watch their backs, and their secrets, carefully. T'aria's seemingly meteoric rise in power and rank made many of the Guild nervous, for it was known she was eyeing higher ranks... and one could easily recall the convenient resignations, deaths, and disappearances of those who stood in her way before. Although she was still of relatively low rank in the Guild, she was far higher in the hierarchy then one of her age and experience should be. Thus it was thought by the Guildmaster that it would be safer for T'aria to 'leave' the Guild... permanently. Fortunately, she overheard the plans being made, and was able to affect her departure from the city before they could be implemented. Seeing she needed transportation faster (and less tiring) than walking, she obtained a horse by conning a Guard Commander out of one. Tucking her marked deck of cards and weighted dice back into her beltpouch, she collected her winnings and set off out of town. She has been wandering since then, using her silver tongue and swift fingers to flitch others of their possessions.
Some time before T'aria left the guild, the guild hired a individual for some freelance strong-arm work, and named her as his contact to the guild. Shortly before she left the guild, he (a human by the name of Accalon) had told her to relay to the guild that he was moving on from the city. She caught up with him not far outside the port city and asked to travel with him. The reason she gave was that a job she had been contracted for had gone badly, and she had to leave for a while. He didn't question this, nor her request to travel inland instead of along the coast (after a couple of close calls where guild members or members of an allied guild recognized her). She has traveled with him for about two months; during that time, he has discovered her fiendish nature, and she his unusual fascination with whores. Upon reaching a town during their travels (and Accalon insists upon visiting every one), she usually heads for the nearest tavern to spend time in, and he heads for the nearest brothel.
She has never taken a last name, uncaring that she does not have what she sees as a mere human affection. She is still angry at the lost position she had in the city of her birth, and is determined to build up her power and influence to return for revenge. She is looking for power, and although well aware that wealth is one of the easiest forms of power to aquire, she is also looking for power of a more permanent type. When dealing with others, she generally attempts to figure out the best way to approach said person, be it speaking from the shadows or riding in on the giant black gelding she owns. She is assured of her own superiority because of her demonic heritage, a trait that she shares with Gwyn. T'aria's basic outlook on life is that everyone exists simply for her to use. Once they are no longer useful, she usually discards them - the exceptions being those who might have a future use, and those who are too dangerous to 'discard'
She is unfortunately prone to drinking heavily, and rarely turns down a new alcohol when it is proffered. Perhaps because of her unique heritage, will drink brews that most normal individuals couldn't, and prefers dwarven and orcish alcohols (although she will drink any vintage). T'aria also has a perchant for causing chaos simply for her own amusement - she has been known to start a barfight in a tavern then slip out of it simply to watch from the sidelines with a knowing grin. She owns a set of weighted dice and normal dice identical in appearance, as well as a deck of marked and unmarked cards identical in appearance that she uses to fleece the unwary (that being how she obtained her mount and a good deal of equipment).
T’aria is one of the rare half-fiends that survived to adulthood. When first met, she would be constantly mistaken for a satyr… except for the fact that there are no female satyrs, and satyrs are not six-foot-one in height. Her fiendish heritage is difficult to hide in her physical appearance, although she can do so from all except the most observant when she wishes. She has 3-inch forehead horns, goat legs complete with cloven hooves, slight fangs noticeable when she smiles, and claws that even when retracted are often noted as unfashionably long and sharp fingernails. Ignoring those physical attributes, she has the appearance of a rather attractive human female of about 20 years of age (though her true age is unknown, as she remembers nothing past a certain point in her past). T’aria has long, thick curly black hair with striking deep red highlights shot through it. Her hair falls past her waist, and is naturally falls into that attractive, semi-wild, tumbled curls state many women struggle to achieve. She will often plait small silver and crystal beads into it using small, hardly-noticeable braids for an accent.
While where her demonic heritage is not a cause for immediate panic, T’aria generally wears more daring attire consisting of a black leather shorts that reveal her legs and cloven hooves, as well as a leather-and-silk top. The top is a simple band of black leather wide enough to cover her ample chest with a network of thin straps to hold it over her shoulders. A foot-wide length of silver-grey sheer silk is sewed to the bottom of the leather, in effect covering her torso from just below her chest to her waist. The overall effect is of the top half of a babydoll teddy, or some similar form of lingerie. Someone once wondered aloud which succubus she had robbed for her wardrobe.
When T’aria travels where people are generally less accepting of her heritage, she generally uses her skills at disguise along with many years of practice to assume the appearance of a ‘normal’, though highly exotic, human. While in disguise, she rarely utilizes her full six-foot-one height, instead opting to stand about five foot nine, allowing to the unique configiration her legs (and to extensive practice) to alter her apparent height. She generally wears a unique headband studded with three-inch spikes that are set two inches apart and are slightly curved to match her forehead horns perfectly. Two of the ‘spikes’ are missing, and there are holes in the headband to correspond to where they would be set; when the headband is on and her horns are through the holes, it is nearly impossible to tell that it is anything other than an unusual piece of jewelry. A full, floor-length gypsy-like skirt conceals her legs and hooves. From the waist up, however, she generally wears much more daring attire – a form-fitting black leather vest/shirt with flouced sleeves and cuffs, low-cut (and laced only far enough to barely be acceptable in public) is one of her favorites. She usually wears a large black velvet cloak with silvery-grey silk lining and a clasp in the shape of a "T".
T'aria owns a impressive black gelding warhorse with military tack dyed a silvery grey. Although she hasn't really had any formal training to ride, she manages well enough to fool most people. Her colors tend to be black and silver. She generally uses her sleight of hand to stash her daggers about her person, ready to pull at attack with at a moment's notice. Usually, one Cold Iron dagger is in each wrist sheath hidden by the large sleeves and cuffs, the Silver dagger is hidden underneath her hair & shirt on her back, one Steel dagger on either thigh, reachable through special slits in her skirts, and the last Steel dagger on her belt in plain view to throw off observers.
Portraits: http://www.angelfire.com/retro/goddess_fa/roleplaying/TariaPic2.html and http://www.angelfire.com/retro/goddess_fa/roleplaying/TariaPic1.html
Deity of thievery, secrets, and shadows
Masque's true gender is not known, and Masque is referred to in both genders interchangeably. "His" clerics promote the gathering of secrets for use in blackmail, and the corruption of those who follow laws and the tenets of good. Masque is the master of shadow, and "his" worshippers pride themselves on their ability to escape notice and manipulate shadows. Greed and deceit run rampant throughout the church, which in all cases more closely resembles a thieves' guild rather than a church. Masque has no established churches; rather, worship is conducted often singularly, due to the distrust Masque's worshippers have for others. Worship and prayers are offered at dusk and in the dark of the moon, or at dawn in some area of shadow. Masque's relations with other dieties are strained at best; none trust "him", for "he" searches endlessly to steal or otherwise obtain power from the other gods.
Last edited by Goddess FallenAngel; Saturday, 30th October, 2004 at 02:35 AM. Reason: Spent Money
If you can't be a good example, then you'll just have to be a horrible warning.
Sunday, 30th May, 2004, 01:06 AM #6
Accalon Darcanda: Human/Male (Unholy Warrior)
Character Name: Accalon Darcanda
Character Race: Human
Character Classes: Unholy Warrior
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Eyes: Forest Green
Experience Points (Current): 3,001
Experience Points (Needed): 6,000
Character Level: 3
Level Adjustment: 0
Effective Character Level: 3
Known Languages: Common, Abysmal
Strength: 14 +2 (6 Points)
Dexterity: 12 +1 (4 Points)
Constitution: 14 +2 (6 Points)
Intelligence: 12 +1 (4 Points)
Wisdom: 10 - (2 Points)
Charisma: 14 +2 (6 Points)
Point Buy: 28
Bold: After magical enchantment
Hit Dice: 3d10 +2
Hit Points: 32
Armor Class: 16 [ BASE (10) + ARMOR (5) + DEX (1) + SHIELD (0) + DEFLECTION (0)]
Flatfooted Armor Class: 15
Touch Attack Armor Class: 11
Damage Resistance: 0
Spell Resistance: 0
Armor Worn: Masterwork Breastplate
AC Penalty: -3
Maximum DEX bonus: +3
Armor Type: Light
Weight: 30 lbs.
Shield Worn: Masterwork Buckler
AC Penalty: 0
Maximum DEX bonus: MA
Weight: 5 lbs.
Save vs. Fortitude: 7 [BASE (3) + CON MOD (2) + DARK BLESSING (2)]
Save vs. Reflex: 4 [BASE (1) + DEX MOD (1) + DARK BLESSING (2)]
Save vs. Will: 3 [BASE (1) + WIS MOD (0) + DARK BLESSING (2)]
Special Save Notes:
Initiative Modifier: +1
Base Attack Bonus: +3
Melee Attack Bonus: +5
Ranged Attack Bonus: +4
Spatha, Masterwork Attacks: +6 / 1d8 +2 / 20/x3 / Piercing and Slashing / 4 lbs. (320 GP)
Dagger, Silver Attacks: +5 / 1d4 +1 / 18-20x2 / Piercing / 1 lbs. (22 GP)
Longbow, Composite masterwork (Mighty Pull +2) Attacks: +5 / 1d8 +2 / x3 / Piercing / 3 lbs. (600 GP)
Weapon weight: 8 lbs.
Smooth Talker (1st)
Bluff /7 (CHA +2) 5
Diplomacy /13 (CHA +2) 5 ranks + Smooth Talker (+2) + synergy from bluff (+2) + Negotiator (+2)
Intimidate /9 (CHA +2) 5 + synergy from bluff (+2)
Knowledge: Religion /3 (INT +1) 2
Ride /2 (Dex +1) 1
Sense Motive /8 (WIS + 0) 6 + Negotiator (+2)
[CC] Cross Class Skill
Pestilential Strike (Unholy Warrior, Disease, 1st level)
Detect Disease (Unholy Warrior, Disease, 2nd level)
Instant Affliction (Unholy Warrior, Disease, 3rd level)
Detect Good (Unholy Warrior, Corruption, 1st level)
Dark Blessing (Unholy Warrior, Corruption, 2nd level)
Dark Host (Unholy Warrior, Corruption, 3rd level)
Equipment & Gear:
Backpack, 2 lbs.
Arrows (60), 9lbs.
Rope, Silk (50 ft ) 5 lbs.
Explorer's Outfit 10 lbs.
Grappling Hook, Collapsible 2 lbs.
Flask, metal: empty (2) 3 lbs.
Oil (flask) (2) 2 lbs.
Ink, 1 oz -
Inkpen (3), -
Flint and Steel, -
Mess Kit, 1 lbs.
Pouch, Belt, ½ lbs.
Parchment (5 sheets)
Sack (4) 2 lbs.
Whetstone 1 lbs.
Piton (10) 5 lbs.
Waterskin (x2), 4 lbs.
Hatchet, 2 lbs.
Case, Map, ½ lbs.
Chalk (6 pieces) -
Sewing Needle, -
Crowbar, 5 lbs.
Potions and Oils:
Magic Weapon (
43) nil lbs. 200150 gp
Shield of Faith +2 (
21) nil lbs. 10050 gp
Cure Light wounds (4) nil lbs. 200 gp
Disguise Disease (5 + 8) nil lbs. 200 gp
Horse, Light War, 150 gp
Bit and Bridle, 2 gp
Studded Leather Barding, 100 gp
Saddle Bags, 4 gp
Magical Item Slots
Ring Left Hand:
Ring Right Hand:
EQUIPMENT WEIGHT: 54 lbs.
ARMOR WEIGHT: 15 lbs.
WEAPON WEIGHT: 8 lbs.
TOTAL WEIGHT: 77 lbs.
Carrying Capacity 14 STR Light: up to 58 lb. Medium: 59-116 lb. Heavy: 117-175 lb.
Base Speed: 30 feet
Accalon is above average in height and his ability to bend shadows and the simply fact that he stays wrapped from head to toes in a in a dark green travel cloak. The cloak is old, well weathered but the colors are as dark as the day it was made.
Accalon rarely drops the hood of on his cloak and its not uncommon for those that work closely with him never to have seen his face. Those that take the time to look closely can see the faint impression of features in the dark shadows of the cloak’s hood.
Only his victims truly every get to see his face but what they see is rather surprising… Where one would expect someone that spends so much time hiding his face would be hideously scared but one greats them is a attractive hawkish face feature a strong chin, with a slight cleft, and a head of average length but slightly unkempt black hair that gives him a certain roguish charmed look.
Accalon is mostly indifferent of the world, and others, concerned with his own long term goal of spreading his precious disease to the four corners of the world. When he has companions he speaks little of his true goal, and the goals he speaks of are simply those of a typical mercenary. Nor does he try to explain his fascination with poor whores or the unique nature in how he selects them.
Viewing whores, and to a lesser part women, as little more than tools Accalon is often nervous around women that he finds deeply attractive and also prove to be more than just tools and carriers of his sexual plague. He secretly dreams of finding a clean woman that can survive the disease and become a lover and a sister in arms.
The whore was downtrodden and pox riddled but for a boy of fourteen with little prerogative she was as pretty as a freshly minted coin was shiny. This was how Accalon, the forgotten son of a cobbler, decided he should be introduced into women. It was a poor choice indeed for a kid with little to no good luck as the whore was carrier of Asteral's Doom, a sexual plague that kills nearly all that it infects.
Accalon’s life had chanced little in the six months it took for the disease to fester in his body, his dad was still a drunk that barely noted his existence outside of the chance to beat him, his mother was still gone, some say she ran from the monster that was her husbands while others said that she ran but didn’t get far as she was killed by the man who was suppose to love her forever. He did his chores, avoiding his dad, frequented the whores that fascinated him so, and contemplated life on the road without his dad.
Accalon had always been a strong lad but when the fateful day came and the festering rout ruptured through his body he never even made it out of his bed. His dad, not waiting to have the debate again with his son about sleeping in, dragged his fevered body from the bed.
His father reaction was tragic, but typical for him, and as he looked down upon his son curled up on his side shaking with fever he simply grabbed him by his leg and dragged him through the shop and tossed him to the back ally.
Accalon laid in the back ally for days were he begged for help and prayed for death but except for occasional kick all ignored him. Death did not come for young Accalon and eventually he was able to drag himself off where he started to contemplate life without his dad.
After his body recovered fully the next few years went by uneventful, he still played with the whores but they’re lives and subsequent deaths went unaccounted for by Accalon. It wasn’t until he met Morgan that he realized that his lift truly had changed.
Morgan was more than Accalon had ever hoped, and he admitted this to anyone who would listen, for in a woman. There plans were simple he would work in the docks as he had been and she would continue to work in the local bars until they could find something more fitting.
Something more fitting never came as six months down the road Morgan was struck ill. In Accalon darkest nightmares he never dreamed that he was a plague carrier but there was no denying the truth of Morgan’s destroyed body. Morgan died on the second day never knowing how she got sick or without showing any sign of improvement.
The same day that Morgan’s body went into a funeral pyre, burned to avoid the risk of farther deaths and because Accalon never told anyone the truth, Accalon moved on leaving the city behind him.
His desire to leave was based upon wanting to forget what he had done and what had become but there was no escaping the truth and eventual he learned to accept it and finally to relish it.
Last edited by Brother Shatterstone; Thursday, 26th August, 2004 at 04:10 AM.
Sunday, 30th May, 2004, 10:34 PM #7
Half Ogre (/human)
Half ogre: Large size, +6 strength, -2 Dex, +2 Con, -2 int, -2 chr, +1 LA
Reach: 10 ft.
Darkvision 60 ft.
Height: 9 ft.
Weight: 290 lbs.
Str: 22/+6...(16 (10 pts) +6 (H-O))
Dex: 12/+1..(14 (6 pts) -2 (H-O))
Con: 18/+4..(16 (10 pts) +2 (H-O))
Int: 6/-2.....(8 (0 pts) -2 (H-O))
Wis: 10/0....(10 (2 pts))
Cha: 6/-2....(8 (0 pts) -2 (H-O))
HP: 38 (10+2d10+12)
Saves: Fort +8, Ref +2, Will +1.
Power Attack (subtract accuracy from attack, add the double in damage)
Reckless Attack (subtract defence, add the to accuracy of attack)
Cleave (drop one foe in melee, hit another within range)
Large and in Charge (hit an enemy in an aoo and push him backwards)
Two Handed Power Strike (Add twice your strength bonus to damage when using a two-handed melee weapon)
Skills: 5 points (5x(3-2))
Swim: 12 (6+6)
+9 (3d6+12/19-20, Large Masterwork Greatsword)
+6 (3d6+18/19-20, Large Masterwork Greatsword at full Power Attack)
+9 (3d6+18/19-20, Large Masterwork Greatsword at full Power Attack and full Reckless Attack (-3 to AC)
AC: 19 (10 (base) +1 (dex) +5 (breastplate) +4 (natural) -1 (size)
Large Masterwork Greatsword: 400 gp, 16 lb.
Large Breastplate: 400 gp, 60 lb.
1 Lesser Restorative
3 potions of Darkvision
2 potions of Cure Light Wounds
1 potion of Bull’s Strength
2 potions of Water Breathing
1 potion of Blur
2 potions of Heroism
1 potion of Magic Fang
A bag of gold (?)
A large hideous woman with a broken nose and tiny pig-like eyes, wearing a battle-scarred breastplate and a large greatsword over a stained and worn gown of blue silk.
Not too bright. Her mood rapidly and unpredicatbly changes between apathetic, enraged, exctied and depressed.
Born by a human noblewoman with a perverted penchant for exotic sex Alicia only escaped an inevitable pre-natal death by the psychosis her mother suffered as a result of a Black-Lotus overdose. The mother went mad, and refused to abort the child although the rest of the family insisted on it. Alicia was born, a hideous child, and raised in a hateful environment where the only person who loved her was her insane mother who considered her beautiful. The mother used her considerable social influence to enter Alicia into a number of local beauty-pageants, an experience that was both humiliating and bewildering when she actually won on occasion due to massive bribery.
Alicia grew up into a teenager, and soon began to be attracted to boys (who all reviled her off-course). She grew increasingly frustrated and became prone to terrible rages and periods of near-apathetic calm.
One unfortunate peasant boy rejected her at the wrong time and place, Alicia snapped, wrestled him to the ground in a ditch, and raped him savagely. She then carried his unconscious body back to her mother's vast and nearly abandoned home and continued her abuseive love for days until he finally died horribly.
It wasn't until she tried to dump his body that her crime was discovered and she was chased out of town by an angry mob....
Odd fortune once again saved her life and after she had killed several of the villagers with her own two hands she got away from her pursuers and literally ran into the propriestess of a house of ill-repute in <insert city name>, her savageness impressed the madame and Alicia soon found herself working as a guard/whore in the lady's establishment.
Two Handed Power Strike
Req: Str 15, Power Attack, Cleave
Benefit: You may add twice your strength bonus to damage when using a two-handed close combat weapon with both hands. This feat may not be used in conjunction with Improved Initiative, Lightning Initiative, Dodge or Mobility.
Last edited by Serpenteye; Monday, 27th September, 2004 at 11:37 AM.
Monday, 31st May, 2004, 08:43 AM #8
Novice (Lvl 1)
Rhesa(currently goes by Aeweth)
Aasimar Cleric of Olidammara 2
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Height: 5' 10”
Str: 8 (-1) [0 points]
Dex: 14 (+2) [6 points]
Con: 12 (+1) [4 points]
Int: 14 (+2) [6 points]
Wis: 16 (+3) [6 points]
Cha: 16 (+3) [6 points]
Class and Racial Abilities:
+2 to Wisdom and Charisma, Resistance to Acid, Cold, and Electricity 5, Paladin favored class, Daylight 1/day (Caster level 2), Darkvision 60 feet, +2 racial bonus to spot and listen checks, turn undead 6/day, free conversion to cure spells, Trickery and Luck domains.
Hit Dice: 2d8+2
AC: 18 (+2 Dex, +4 armor, +2 shield)
Init: +2 (+2 Dex)
Fortitude +4 [+3 base, +1 Con]
Reflex +3 [+1 base, +2 Dex]
Will +6 [+3 base, +3 Wis]
Melee Atk: +0 (1d4-1/19-20/x2 steel or cold iron dagger)
Ranged Atk: +3 (1d4-1/x2/30 ft., sling) or +3 (1d4-1/19-20/x2/10 ft., steel or cold iron dagger)
Bluff +8 (5 ranks, +3 charisma)
Diplomacy +12 (5 ranks, +3 charisma, +4 synergy from Bluff and Sense Motive)
Disguise +8 (5 ranks, +3 charisma), +10 when acting in character (+2 synergy from Bluff)
Intimidate +5 (0 ranks, +3 charisma, +2 synergy bonus from bluff)
Listen +5 (0 ranks, +3 Wisdom, +2 racial bonus)
Sense Motive +10 (5 ranks, +3 wisdom, +2 feat)
Spot +5 (0 ranks, +3 Wisdom, +2 racial bonus)
Cosmopolitan: Sense Motive (1st level)
Languages: Common, Celestial, Abyssal
Save DC +3
0th – Detect Magic, Light x2, Resistance
1st – Comprehend Languages, Magic Stone, Shield of Faith (D) – Disguise Self
Light horse - 150gp
Bit and bridle - 2gp
Riding saddle - 10gp
Saddlebags - 4gp
Wearing or carrying:
Belt pouch 1gp
Cold iron dagger 4gp
Mithral Chain shirt 1,100gp
Wooden holy symbol of Olidammara 1gp
Wooden holy symbol of Boccob 1gp
10 sling bullets 1sp
Wand of Cure Light Wounds 750gp
Heavy Darkwood Shield 257gp
Vial of ink 8gp
10 sheets of parchment 10gp
Cut glass spectacles (false) 100gp
Scroll of Magic Stone 25gp
Scroll of Magic Weapon 25gp
Scroll of Disguise Self (4) 100gp
Traveler’s outfit (free)
Masterwork Disguise Kit (100 gp)
Wooden Holy Symbols of Corellon Larethian, Ehlonna, Erythnul, Fharlaghn, Pelor, Hextor, Kord, Nerull, Obad-hai, St. Cuthbert, Vecna, and Wee Jas 12gp
Silver holy symbol of Heironius 25gp
50 feet hemp rope 1gp
Grappling Hook 1gp
4 day’s trail rations 2gp
3 bottles of fine wine 30gp
Aeweth and Rhesa look much the same. Both are of middling height, with a graceful and curvaceous body, shoulder length blond hair, striking green eyes, and generally quite beautiful. The two of them have an easy smile and a quick laugh in common, and both tend to reach their eyes (although for different reasons- Aeweth is genuinely amused with the topic at hand, but Rhesa is most likely laughing at you).
In dress, Aeweth carries around an (affected) studious air, often carrying an appropriately intimidating looking tome and wearing as scholarly robes as are practical for the task at hand- obviously less so when out on the road. She wears her hair in a bun at the top of her head, and an expensive pair of cut glass spectacles perched on her nose. Being somewhat vain, she tends to wear clothing that accentuates her figure. Her holy symbol of Boccob is proudly displayed.
Rhesa tends to be more practical. Much like Aeweth, she dresses to impress, although the goal is to use what she’s got to her best advantage rather than appeal to her own vanity. Her armor is so light as to be almost nonexistent, so although it is still somewhat bulky, she tends to wear her clothing over it rather than under it. That clothing typically consists of loose leather breeches and long sleeved tunics in attractively bright colors. She makes sure to always wear long sleeves- they hide the patches of iridescent scales that exist in patches on her arms, legs and torso, marks of a lillend or perhaps a couatl somewhere far, far back in her bloodline. Her holy symbol to Olidammara is hidden under a fold of her robe- she can grasp it when she needs it, but it’s out of sight.
Personality and background:
Aeweth is a scholar. Sort of. Truth be told, she managed to gain the title more by parental pressure (on both her to work hard and her tutors to praise her) and the intellectual equivalent of brute force than any actual smarts. She’s a spoiled child of a merchant who wanted his daughter to be well educated, but she’s never really had the mind for it. She’d rather she was one of the merchant’s daughters who got to dress up, go to parties, and eventually get married to some young nobleman. Sigh.
Well, that didn’t work. Boccob seems to like her, though. She seems to have more success worshipping the idea of knowledge than actually learning stuff. But now she’s short on cash. What ever will she do?
Aeweth is more than a little ditzy. She tries so hard to be intellectual, but really, there’s not much up there. It’s mostly stubbornness, parental pressure and fear of failing that’s gotten her this far. She’s a nice enough person, although she’s more likely to latch onto a charismatic individual or go along with the majority than to actually take a moral stand of her own. She is more than a little vain, enjoying dressing up when she gets the chance.
Rhesa is a combination of a number of contradictions, and she takes no small delight in succeeding at the internal balancing act that is required to keep them all in sync. She’s bright but takes no particular delight in books (she loves philosophical and moral debate, however). She is outgoing but has no particular desire to lead. She is knee-jerk rebellious- it’s her revolt against her angelic ancestry that’s led her to where she is today- but at the same time she’s willing to go with the flow, up to a point, if it’s easier for her to do so. She’s a tomboy- none of the spoiled princess schtick for her (unless she’s running a con that requires it)- but at the same time she takes no small delight in the looks she can draw if she just wears the right clothes. She’s thoroughly immoral- look out for number one!- but at the same time she’s exceedingly reluctant to take a life, and the more depraved sorts of evil are definitely not her cup of tea. Depending on their sort, she’ll put up with them (especially if the perpetrator is someone she wishes to avoid drawing the attention of) but she’d rather not have to.
The moral ambiguity runs deeper than that, though. She knows perfectly well that good and evil are very real, very solid concepts- and that with demons, devils, and angels running around as embodiments of such, it can be hard not to take sides sometimes. But she won’t, dammit. Just because her great-great-grandfather got drunk and slept with a lillend doesn’t mean she has to act any other way than she chooses- and just because she chooses not to act like her celestial forebears doesn’t mean she’s bound for hell, either.
Rhesa was raised by monks, donated at a young age to the church of Pelor (who her actual parents are, she doesn’t know). The well meaning but ultimately ineffective monks tried to school her in the ways of good (as Rhesa would put it, “Godliness and light and yadda yadda yadda”), but all she could think of how easy it was to blame her own wrongdoings on other children with a convincing smile or some fake tears, and how the same tactics could be used to, for example, swipe some of the sweets that the ascetic monks doled out so sparingly. Suffice to say that the moment she convinced the monks that she was ready for life outside the monastery walls, she quickly fell in with a crowd of thieves. With her easy way with people she took part in no small number of cons, and she was daring enough often enough that she offered enough prayers to the Laughing God of Thieves that she and him reached an arrangement.
Rhesa led a double life- during one part of the day she was a good little religious girl, serving food at a restaurant that catered to rich noble patrons, and the rest she was conning marks for as much as she could take them. In the “straight” part of her life, there was even a potential marriage prospect, something that amused her to no end- especially considering the boy in question was a fresh-faced young priest of Heironious. Oh well, she thought to herself. He’s a nice guy and no one’s getting hurt. A good time will be had by all.
Rhesa had made a bet with the universe, heaven and hell alike- she’ll dance joyously in the grey areas of life, and she won’t fall, and she won’t rise. She’ll stay right where she is and she’ll be happy doing it, thank you very much. Being the daring soul she is, she’s even dared the universe to try and throw her something that she can’t handle without taking a moral stand or sliding into evil. She sought out her young priest as much because she knew he would moralize to her as anything else, and she took sketchier and sketcher jobs on the underworld side of things.
This all worked out nicely until she took part in an assassination attempt on a noble coming to eat at her place of employment. Next thing she knew, her young priest was coming in to give her a last confession before the hanging tomorrow, the wonder evidenced in his face- how could the nice young girl he had prayed with be the same as the one who had handed off poison to be slipped into the duke’s supper? To her lasting regret, Rhesa never resolved the mystery for him- she clocked him upside the head while he was puckering up for one last kiss and made her getaway, taking his holy symbol to remember him by. She still feels pretty scummy about that bit.
So here she is now… short of cash, much like her current cover persona, Aeweth. She needs a job, and she feels confident enough now to take another chance with the universe and prove that, really, she’s not evil any more than she is good. And what better way to test one’s moral fiber than hang out with this lot?
“Taxation is very much like dairy farming. The task is to extract the maximum amount of milk with the minimum amount of moo. And I'm afraid to say, that these days, all I'm getting is moo.”
Tuesday, 1st June, 2004, 01:14 PM #9
Acolyte (Lvl 2)
Name: Alev Pure
Alignment: Lawful Evil
HP: 23 (2d8 + 3d6 -4 for Con)
Str: 14 (+2) (6 pts)
Dex: 17 (+3) (6 pts) (+1 Level)
Con: 8 (-1) (2 pts)
Int: 14 (+2) (6 pts)
Wis: 10 (+0) (2 pts)
Cha: 14 (+2) (6 pts)
AB for weapons:
- Dagger: +6 1d4+2 19-20/x2
- Rapier: +7 1d6+2 18-20/x2
- Kukri: +7 1d4+2 18-20/x2
- Falchion: +6 1d4+3 18-20/x2
- Rapier & Kukri: +5 1d6+2 18-20/x2 & +5 1d4+1 18-20/x2
AC: 18 (+3 Dex, +4 Armor, +1 Enhancement)
- Fort: +0 (-1 con)
- Ref: +6 (+3 Dex)
- Will: +4
Languages: Common, Elven, Draconic, Sylvan, Abyssal, Celestial, Infernal, Undercommon
Silvered Dagger ... 22gp 1lb
MW Kukri ... 308gp 2lb
MW Rapier ... 320gp 2lb
MW Falchion ... 375gp 8lb
Longbow ... 75gp 3lb
Arrows(20) ... 1gp 3lb
+1 Chain Shirt ... 1250gp 25lb
Backpack ... 2 gp 2lb
- Potion, CLW ... 50gp -
- Soap ... 1gp 2lb
- Rations, 10 days ... 5gp 10lb
- Thieves' tools ... 30gp 1lb
Coinage 50gp 1lb
Light Horse ... 75 gp --
- Riding Saddle 10 gp 25 lb
- Bit & bridle 2 gp 1lb
- Saddlebags 4 gp 8lb
-- Courtier's Outfit ... 30 gp 7lb
-- Noble's Outfit ... 75 gp 10lb
-- Explorer's Outfit ... 10 gp 8lb
60 pounds carried.
- +4 Appraise (2) +2 Int
- +7 Bluff (5) +2 Cha
- +4 Diplomacy (2) +2 Cha
- +5 Disable Device (2) +3 Dex
- +6 Hide (3) +3 Dex
- +7 Gather Information (5) +2 Cha
- +7 Knowledge (arcana) (5) +2 Int
- +7 Knowledge (history) (5) +2 Int
- +7 Knowledge (nobility) (5) +2 Int
- +7 Knowledge (fine arts) (5) +2 Int
- +7 Move Silently (4) +3 Dex
- +8 Search (4) +2 Dex +2 Racial
- +2 Sense Motive (2)
- +8 Tumble (5) +3 Dex
- +5 Use Rope (2) +3 Dex
- Speak Language (4): Abyssal, Celestial, Infernal, Undercommon
Sneak Attack +2d6
Trap sense +1
Weight: 92 lbs.
Appearance: For outfits, wine velvet is prefered, although black leather is acceptable if absolutely necessary. Both must be tailored to highlight the pinch of his waist -- effeminite, maybe, but so much more aesthetically pleasing -- and always, always high collars and gloves. Round black spectacles are a necessity during daylight hours, as there's nothing good to be said about running around squinting like a fool.
Keeps his hair at a consistent trim -- cropped short in back, kept longer as it goes forward until the very last point curves directly into the corner of the eye. The use of a few subtle inserts is enough to maintain an arc lift at the center of his head, giving the whole cut a general egg shape.
The face is powdered to suit the event, and it is always worth the time it takes to apply. With the right outfit, a pinch of pepper applied liberally beneath the eyelids gives the eyes a graceful sheen, and brings a bit more collar to the face. Best suited to candlelight, which will allow the pupils to dilate, to keep the blue of the iris from becoming too dominating.
Background: As far as a beginning is concerned, it is certain that a Miss Chanci Something-or-Other was given as a gift a certain elf child, elves being rare in those parts, on the occasion of her becoming the Mrs. Chanci Something-Else. The details of that child's acquisition and the intent of its original giver have been buried along with all those involved; what is of record is that dear Lady Chanci saw it fit to pass this young elf along to her eldest daughter on the occasion of her marriage, thus birthing a family tradition which would outlive the memory of what family this had been.
And so as decades passed, our young elf's conditions were always quite transitory, changing house every fifteen years or so. These moves often spanned kingdoms and cultures, and while it was not rare to hear of the death of a former owner, some apparently outlived their own memory in this bloodline, too many generations and families removed for word to pass along.
As often as last names changed, so too did duties: Some ladies regarded their elf as a servant; others as a toy, a curiosity; some almost as a child of their own. The last owner, Lady Linitha or Miss Linny, depending on the year, seemed to regard her elf as a dear childhood friend and trusted counsel. It came naturally, then, that she would confide in her heirloom the details of her secret affairs; and indeed, this heirloom would in turn take part in plans to overthrow the Master of the house.
The situation was classic: The Lady had taken quite fondly to a certain young man outside her marriage, and where her prior dalliances had been easily hidden, this more passionate involvement inevitably aroused the suspicions of her husband. Before he could act against her, she met with her elf to bring up a private resolution which she had before devised. The details occurred so naturally that it took almost no explanation: The elf could murder his Master in the morning, in view of the other servants, and proclaim jealousy or undying love or something of that sort for Miss Linny, and then disappear to wherever was convenient; she, in turn, could explain how her elf had been meeting with her in private, professing these affections, and that she had tried her best to refuse these affections gently; this would help satisfy any rumors of the Lady's secret life, and believably, for that she kept her elf closely was well-known; and finally, after a suitable time of grieving, she could start a new marriage with her secret lover, free from scrutiny.
The first part of the plan went well enough: The Master sat quietly over his breakfast and seemed to surprised to resist as the blade came into play. The elf escaped without problem, taking with him a useful sum of gold, with which a new life could be started in some other place, too far away for news of such trivial passions to travel. Lady Linitha was not so fortunate: The folk of the town believed the first bit of the story, but they were generally less willing to believe she had been a non-participant in this secret affection. Such suspicions came to a head when a young man -- that secret lover of hers, nervous that all this might come back to him -- told the local authorities that the woman had, in private conversations, confessed to sharing passions with the heirloom. It was easy to confirm that the two had some relation, and so it was not long before she was in the public square, her head on the chopping block.
Her elf showed up to watch, confident in his ability to disappear among the commonfolk. The blood flowed like wine down a ship's hull: He had seen that somewhere.
Since then he has wandered, lived a bit on the criminal edge, taken a name -- "Alev Pure," for its phonetic pleasure -- taken up the occasional stabbing, the occasional slashing, to occupy his time. There's a rare crowd that can appreciate a good slashing, certain taverns where the floor is not so clean... You always have to skip town before the accolades pour in. It's a little tragic.
His technique is still young, and his short list of murders and mutilations are better considered sketches than works of art. Most of his time has been learning the ways of the blade, the mark it leaves upon the flesh... He finds he quite enjoys blades. They can be very, you know, sharp.
Personality: Having spent the first hundred and sixty years of his life, or so, as a possession which outlasted many owners, Alev finds it difficult to esteem people more than objects, finding them too transitory, too poorly composed. Even the best of them must live on within their great works, hide their ugliness and mundanity behind beautiful and glorious creations.
He is not a misanthrope; not wholly, anyway. Cruelty takes too much effort, and if one cannot maintain a luxurious lifestyle, it is best to keep at least a luxurious mind. He is disaffected and cold; witty, but humorless. At worst he is annoyed, and at best bemused: He seems willing to go to great lengths of action to move from the former to the latter. And he is definitely pretty obsessive. Casual about it, sure, but definitely obsessive. Once you start a thing it's just a shame to stop.
Tuesday, 1st June, 2004, 09:23 PM #10
Novice (Lvl 1)
Name: Sunedilar al Hazir
Class: Fighter 4
Alignment: Lawful Evil
HP: 38 (3d10 +1 Con)
Str: 16 (+3)
Con: 12 (+1)
Dex: 13 (+1)
Int: 14 (+2)
AB for weapons:
- +9 with spiked chain (+3 Str, +1 MW, +1 WF)
- +7 with spiked gauntlet (+3 Str)
- +6 with heavy crossbow (+1 Dex, +1 MW)
AC: 17 (+6 magic breastplate, +2 Dex)
- Fort: +5 (+1 Con)
- Ref: +2 (+1 Dex)
- Will: +1
- Masterwork Spiked Chain (2d4+3/x2)
- Masterwork Heavy Crossbow (1d10/19-20x2)
- Spiked Gauntlets (1d4+3/x2)
Equipment: Masterwork spiked chain, spiked gauntlet (x2), masterwork heavy crossbow, +1 breastplate, 1 potion of cat's grace, 2 potions of CLW, 2 oils of magic weapon, 60 crossbow bolt, masterwork artisan's tools, explorer's outfit, light horse, (other equipment to be bought as appropriate)
Money: 169 gp
- Craft (Weaponsmithing) (6 ranks +2 Int) = +8
- Ride (3 ranks +1 Dex) = +4
- Appraise (weapons) (3 ranks +2 Int +2 Appraise Synergy) = +7
- Climb (3 ranks +3 Str) = +6
- Search (3 ranks +2 Int) = +5
- Knowledge (weapons) 2 (2 ranks +2 Int) = +4
- Intimidate (2 ranks) = +2
- Combat Reflexes
- Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Spiked Chain)
- Weapon Focus (Spiked Chain)
- Combat Expertise
- Improved Disarm
Weight: 186 lbs.
Appearance: Sunedilar typically favors the light clothing of his homeland and his cult, wearing light, loose pants and shirts along with a vest marked with a two tailed scorpion on the back, it's stingers curling around to the front. He keeps both his face and his head shaved at all times. He most often appears to be completely impassive, but if quite capable of showing extreme rage and haughtiness when provoked.
Background: Sunedilar was born to a family of devout followers of Vorlash, the warrior god of Krinjat clan (and probably a manifestation of Hextor), a semi-nomadic people living in the Norenal Steppe, a arid scrubland area near the Golden Way, a major trade route which the Krinjat frequently raided. The al Hazir family had served the dark god from time immemorial, and Sunedilar followed the footsteps of legions of his ancestors and devoted himself to the cult.
As a warrior of Vorlash, Sunedilar studied weapons of all kinds, particularly the sacred vorlan-tal, the "twin sting" or spiked chain. When his parents were killed during a caravan raid, Sunedilar simply threw himself further into his studies, becoming a cruel and deadly fighter, internalizing not just the techniques of the cult but also its doctrines regarding taking from the weak. By the time his training ended, Sunedilar was more than ready to begin his career as a raider, looting caravans and selling captives into slavery.
After a few years, Sunedilar was called before the elders of the cult and charged with a sacred duty. Vorlash had decreed that the time was coming for the Krinjat to become more than raiders. It was time for conquest. And Sunedilar would help prepare the way. He was tasked to travel to the neighboring lands and look for weaknesses, find allies, and do whatever he could to soften the enemy up before the inevitable war. Sunedilar, seeing an opportunity to both serve his god and gain greater personal wealth and power, agreed at once.
Personality: Sunedilar keeps his emotions to himself most of the time, maintaining stoic discipline in order to avoid stupid mistakes. He finds excessive violence and cruelty distasteful unless it serves a definate purpose. He enjoys wealth and the luxuries it can provide, but he has no problem denying those things if they become distracting or get in the way of gaining power.
Last edited by Cepter; Tuesday, 28th September, 2004 at 09:51 PM. Reason: Level 4 increase