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Who Wants to Be a Wayfinder: Under New Management
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<blockquote data-quote="Verbatim" data-source="post: 2518535" data-attributes="member: 15549"><p><strong>Patruk Sivid</strong></p><p></p><p>[sblock]</p><p>Patruk Sivid</p><p>Male Human, 1st Level Necromancer</p><p>Deity: None</p><p>Alignment: Lawful Neutral</p><p>Medium Humanoid (Human)</p><p></p><p>Hit Dice: 1d4 (6 hp)</p><p>Initiative: +2</p><p>Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)</p><p>Armor Class: 12 (+2 Dex), touch 12, flat-footed 10</p><p>Base Attack/Grapple: +0/+2</p><p>Attack: +1 dagger (1d4+1) or +2 Light Crossbow (1d6)</p><p>Full Attack: +1 dagger</p><p>Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.</p><p>Special Attacks: N/A</p><p>Special Qualities: Can cast arcane spells; 1 per day can cast Touch of Fatigue, Cause Fear, and Ghost Sound</p><p></p><p>Saves: Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +3</p><p>Abilities: Str 12, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 12</p><p>Skills: +6 Concentration (4), +3 Heal (2cc), +7 Knowledge (Arcana) (4), +5 Knowledge (Nobility and Royalty) (2), +5 Knowledge (Religion) (2), +3 Ride (1cc), +4 Search (1cc), +7 Spellcraft (4)</p><p>Feats: Scribe Scroll (class bonus), Summon Familiar (class bonus), Great Fortitude (1st lvl), Necropolis Born (Racial Bonus)</p><p></p><p>Languages spoken: Common, Draconic, Gnomish, Dwarvish</p><p></p><p>Equipment: Backpack, **3 sunrods, **spellbook (class bonus), **Explorer outfit (free), **waterskin, **trail rations (4 days), **scrollcase, **Blank travel journal, **3 vials of ink, **1 inkpen, Spell component pouch, Quarterstaff, Light crossbow w/20 bolts, Daggers (2). Belt pouch containing 22gp, 9 sp. Total weight carried is 22lb</p><p></p><p>**= in backpack</p><p></p><p>Spells Known </p><p></p><p>0- all except (illusion and enchantment) </p><p>1st- Cause Fear, Chill Touch, Ray of Enfeeblement, Magic Missle, Mage Armor, Shield </p><p></p><p>Spells Prepared</p><p>0 – Detect Magic, Read Magic, Light</p><p>1 – Chill Touch, Mage Armor, Magic Missile</p><p>[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>Description: Patruk is a 22 year old man who stands just over 6’0 and while he does not have the most athletic build, he carries his 190 lbs well. He normally wears simple but sturdy breeches tucked into his riding boots, with a white shirt and brown vest completing his outfit. While his skin has a permanent olive tone to it, Patruk is never able to keep a tan for long even though he spends a great deal of his time outside while he studies his classes. His dark black hair has not seen a barber in almost a year and Patruk has taken to wearing a simple leather band to keep it pulled back. Patruk’s blue eyes have a slight gray haze over them that formed shortly after his return from the grave, but while it can be disconcerting to look at, it does not impair his vision in the least. </p><p></p><p>History: Professor Camis,</p><p></p><p>It has been told to me on numerous occasions that the path I walk will eventually lead me to my damnation, both by friends and teachers alike, but what they do not understand is that while others have a choice, mine has been made for me. I know that you and I have argued the concept of free will and destiny many times, but on the eve of my departing tomorrow, I had hoped to shed a little light through this letter on why it is that I have come to feel as I have. I do hope you will forgive me if I drift from time to time, but it is merely because I have not thought about my family for several years now. </p><p></p><p>My parents made a good living for our family breeding and selling horses, both natural as well as magebred stallions. While the coin they earned should have been enough to satisfy the pride that all men are born with, sadly it was not enough to appease them. They sought to further increase their station by molding their children, my older brother, my twin sisters, as well as myself, into the very picture of nobility, however minor it might be. To accomplish this goal, they sent away for the finest teachers in Aundair and let it be known that our upbringing was in their hands, as well as informing us that failure to excel was not an option.</p><p></p><p>Can you imagine being a child of eight years being shunned by your parents in the name of increasing your potential? I was not allowed to speak to them, save when Master Thrium wished to display the latest achievement I had reached, nor was I allowed to have extended contact with my siblings. It was as if I had no family, and it seemed I was the only one who noticed these facts.</p><p></p><p>My brother took to the art of the sword like a eagle takes to the air, and it was shortly after his fifteenth summer that my father released his tutor of his duties and sent Brius to be formally trained as an officer, as no son of Timoth Sivid would be a common foot soldier. </p><p></p><p>Dear sisters Rhea and Lauren were schooled in the arts of song and business respectively. Rhea’s voice was that of an angel’s, and while Lauren did not receive any of mother’s graceful looks, she was a master at all things involving the exchange of currency and the assignment of worth.</p><p></p><p>And what was the hope for me, young Patruk? I was to be a priest and bring the favor of the gods upon our land. Ironic isn’t it that one who has long since ceased in believing in a divine power was asked to pay homage to one?</p><p></p><p>When it became clear to my parents, through Master Thrium’s pleas not to release him from his duties, that I simply was incapable of achieving a state of enlightenment enough to embrace the glory of the gods, my parents were now faced with a dire predicament. What were they to do with me?</p><p></p><p>I was nearing my seventeenth summer, almost a man in their eyes, and suddenly I was at the brink of being useless resource. While the years spent with Master Thrium had given me knowledge in a broad variety of subjects, the man had truly never taught me anything of substance. So, while my parents were once again trying to determine my fate, I decided to do something rash to show them that I was truly more than a pawn in their grandiose chess game and attempted to ride my father’s prize stallion. It was a ride that literally killed me.</p><p></p><p>In the few seconds before Demonfyre’s hooves shattered my skull and brought my life to a premature end, I had never felt so alive. The contest between my will and the unbridled chaos of the stallion was unlike anything I had ever experienced. However, while I might have been having the time of my life, I was a stranger in Demonfyre’s eyes and had not earned the right to be upon his back. Although he nearly flipped himself in half to dislodge me, he tossed me aside like a child’s doll and even as I hit the ground, my fate was sealed. Lashing out in his frustration, the stallion’s hooves caught me as I was trying to get out of his way and in a blur of colors, my world turned to black.</p><p></p><p>I once had a nursemaid who spoke of the angels who guided the souls of the dead to their homes in the heavens. While I do not know where she had received her information, I know that I personally only remember two things from my experience with death. The chill that still lingers in my bones, and the first sluggish beat of my heart.</p><p></p><p>Timoth would never speak of the cost that he had to pay to have me returned, but the price must have been steep, as for the first time in as long as I could remember mother and father did not host their yearly ball. Mother tried to say it was because she was feeling under the weather, but I saw the lie for what it was and felt the accusing stares from the servants in the house.</p><p></p><p>Then the dreams began and with them, the sealing of my fate. I would see myself atop the cold marble dais in the family tomb, my head bandaged to hide the severity of my wounds, and although my family and their associates were grieving, I could feel my body calling to me, telling me that there was a power waiting to be unlocked, if only I could do it.</p><p></p><p>I withdrew into my chambers and began truly studying the books that Master Thrium had left behind after his release from duty. Mainly they were religious texts speaking on the theological aspects of life and death, but what I needed, what I craved, was the truth behind life’s greatest secret.</p><p></p><p>I am saddened to say that my zealous approach into this placed my parents in an even less desirable position than where they were before my death, and subsequent rebirth. The offers of marriage quickly disappeared when my “condition” was passed as gossip among the servants, and when my father asked if I would consider taking some time away from the family home to “find” myself again, I leapt at the chance to escape their velvet walled prison.</p><p></p><p>I am not sure what favors my father used to have my admittance to the University of Wynarn, nor do I truly care to be honest, but in my studies here I have come to realize that for every one question I can now answer, four more arise to take its place. I have also come to realize that while my studies do seem macabre, I do not wish to spend my life with corpses as my only companions.</p><p>I have agreed to “study abroad”, as my friends call it, with some of my fellow graduates. While they also do not truly understand what it is I seek, they at least are willing to see beyond the stigma attached to my studies and take me for who I am, not whom people fear I will become. Traveling will also give me a chance to explore how death is treated by the different cultures, and to see if my experience with returning from death’s embrace has been shared by others.</p><p></p><p>You must forgive me Professor, but the hour grows late and my candle has nearly burned its course. Before I end this, I wanted to say thank you for your patience over the years and for defending my eccentric ways to those who sought to send me away shortly after I arrived. I know it must have been difficult to defend someone who swore they could feel their blood itself flowing through their veins, but whether you ever believed me or not, it took strength to defend me. I will not forget that.</p><p></p><p>I wish you luck with your new students, and should the day come where I can ever assist you, send the summons and I will return.</p><p></p><p>Sincerely,</p><p>Patruk Sivid</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Verbatim, post: 2518535, member: 15549"] [b]Patruk Sivid[/b] [sblock] Patruk Sivid Male Human, 1st Level Necromancer Deity: None Alignment: Lawful Neutral Medium Humanoid (Human) Hit Dice: 1d4 (6 hp) Initiative: +2 Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares) Armor Class: 12 (+2 Dex), touch 12, flat-footed 10 Base Attack/Grapple: +0/+2 Attack: +1 dagger (1d4+1) or +2 Light Crossbow (1d6) Full Attack: +1 dagger Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft. Special Attacks: N/A Special Qualities: Can cast arcane spells; 1 per day can cast Touch of Fatigue, Cause Fear, and Ghost Sound Saves: Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +3 Abilities: Str 12, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 12 Skills: +6 Concentration (4), +3 Heal (2cc), +7 Knowledge (Arcana) (4), +5 Knowledge (Nobility and Royalty) (2), +5 Knowledge (Religion) (2), +3 Ride (1cc), +4 Search (1cc), +7 Spellcraft (4) Feats: Scribe Scroll (class bonus), Summon Familiar (class bonus), Great Fortitude (1st lvl), Necropolis Born (Racial Bonus) Languages spoken: Common, Draconic, Gnomish, Dwarvish Equipment: Backpack, **3 sunrods, **spellbook (class bonus), **Explorer outfit (free), **waterskin, **trail rations (4 days), **scrollcase, **Blank travel journal, **3 vials of ink, **1 inkpen, Spell component pouch, Quarterstaff, Light crossbow w/20 bolts, Daggers (2). Belt pouch containing 22gp, 9 sp. Total weight carried is 22lb **= in backpack Spells Known 0- all except (illusion and enchantment) 1st- Cause Fear, Chill Touch, Ray of Enfeeblement, Magic Missle, Mage Armor, Shield Spells Prepared 0 – Detect Magic, Read Magic, Light 1 – Chill Touch, Mage Armor, Magic Missile [/sblock] Description: Patruk is a 22 year old man who stands just over 6’0 and while he does not have the most athletic build, he carries his 190 lbs well. He normally wears simple but sturdy breeches tucked into his riding boots, with a white shirt and brown vest completing his outfit. While his skin has a permanent olive tone to it, Patruk is never able to keep a tan for long even though he spends a great deal of his time outside while he studies his classes. His dark black hair has not seen a barber in almost a year and Patruk has taken to wearing a simple leather band to keep it pulled back. Patruk’s blue eyes have a slight gray haze over them that formed shortly after his return from the grave, but while it can be disconcerting to look at, it does not impair his vision in the least. History: Professor Camis, It has been told to me on numerous occasions that the path I walk will eventually lead me to my damnation, both by friends and teachers alike, but what they do not understand is that while others have a choice, mine has been made for me. I know that you and I have argued the concept of free will and destiny many times, but on the eve of my departing tomorrow, I had hoped to shed a little light through this letter on why it is that I have come to feel as I have. I do hope you will forgive me if I drift from time to time, but it is merely because I have not thought about my family for several years now. My parents made a good living for our family breeding and selling horses, both natural as well as magebred stallions. While the coin they earned should have been enough to satisfy the pride that all men are born with, sadly it was not enough to appease them. They sought to further increase their station by molding their children, my older brother, my twin sisters, as well as myself, into the very picture of nobility, however minor it might be. To accomplish this goal, they sent away for the finest teachers in Aundair and let it be known that our upbringing was in their hands, as well as informing us that failure to excel was not an option. Can you imagine being a child of eight years being shunned by your parents in the name of increasing your potential? I was not allowed to speak to them, save when Master Thrium wished to display the latest achievement I had reached, nor was I allowed to have extended contact with my siblings. It was as if I had no family, and it seemed I was the only one who noticed these facts. My brother took to the art of the sword like a eagle takes to the air, and it was shortly after his fifteenth summer that my father released his tutor of his duties and sent Brius to be formally trained as an officer, as no son of Timoth Sivid would be a common foot soldier. Dear sisters Rhea and Lauren were schooled in the arts of song and business respectively. Rhea’s voice was that of an angel’s, and while Lauren did not receive any of mother’s graceful looks, she was a master at all things involving the exchange of currency and the assignment of worth. And what was the hope for me, young Patruk? I was to be a priest and bring the favor of the gods upon our land. Ironic isn’t it that one who has long since ceased in believing in a divine power was asked to pay homage to one? When it became clear to my parents, through Master Thrium’s pleas not to release him from his duties, that I simply was incapable of achieving a state of enlightenment enough to embrace the glory of the gods, my parents were now faced with a dire predicament. What were they to do with me? I was nearing my seventeenth summer, almost a man in their eyes, and suddenly I was at the brink of being useless resource. While the years spent with Master Thrium had given me knowledge in a broad variety of subjects, the man had truly never taught me anything of substance. So, while my parents were once again trying to determine my fate, I decided to do something rash to show them that I was truly more than a pawn in their grandiose chess game and attempted to ride my father’s prize stallion. It was a ride that literally killed me. In the few seconds before Demonfyre’s hooves shattered my skull and brought my life to a premature end, I had never felt so alive. The contest between my will and the unbridled chaos of the stallion was unlike anything I had ever experienced. However, while I might have been having the time of my life, I was a stranger in Demonfyre’s eyes and had not earned the right to be upon his back. Although he nearly flipped himself in half to dislodge me, he tossed me aside like a child’s doll and even as I hit the ground, my fate was sealed. Lashing out in his frustration, the stallion’s hooves caught me as I was trying to get out of his way and in a blur of colors, my world turned to black. I once had a nursemaid who spoke of the angels who guided the souls of the dead to their homes in the heavens. While I do not know where she had received her information, I know that I personally only remember two things from my experience with death. The chill that still lingers in my bones, and the first sluggish beat of my heart. Timoth would never speak of the cost that he had to pay to have me returned, but the price must have been steep, as for the first time in as long as I could remember mother and father did not host their yearly ball. Mother tried to say it was because she was feeling under the weather, but I saw the lie for what it was and felt the accusing stares from the servants in the house. Then the dreams began and with them, the sealing of my fate. I would see myself atop the cold marble dais in the family tomb, my head bandaged to hide the severity of my wounds, and although my family and their associates were grieving, I could feel my body calling to me, telling me that there was a power waiting to be unlocked, if only I could do it. I withdrew into my chambers and began truly studying the books that Master Thrium had left behind after his release from duty. Mainly they were religious texts speaking on the theological aspects of life and death, but what I needed, what I craved, was the truth behind life’s greatest secret. I am saddened to say that my zealous approach into this placed my parents in an even less desirable position than where they were before my death, and subsequent rebirth. The offers of marriage quickly disappeared when my “condition” was passed as gossip among the servants, and when my father asked if I would consider taking some time away from the family home to “find” myself again, I leapt at the chance to escape their velvet walled prison. I am not sure what favors my father used to have my admittance to the University of Wynarn, nor do I truly care to be honest, but in my studies here I have come to realize that for every one question I can now answer, four more arise to take its place. I have also come to realize that while my studies do seem macabre, I do not wish to spend my life with corpses as my only companions. I have agreed to “study abroad”, as my friends call it, with some of my fellow graduates. While they also do not truly understand what it is I seek, they at least are willing to see beyond the stigma attached to my studies and take me for who I am, not whom people fear I will become. Traveling will also give me a chance to explore how death is treated by the different cultures, and to see if my experience with returning from death’s embrace has been shared by others. You must forgive me Professor, but the hour grows late and my candle has nearly burned its course. Before I end this, I wanted to say thank you for your patience over the years and for defending my eccentric ways to those who sought to send me away shortly after I arrived. I know it must have been difficult to defend someone who swore they could feel their blood itself flowing through their veins, but whether you ever believed me or not, it took strength to defend me. I will not forget that. I wish you luck with your new students, and should the day come where I can ever assist you, send the summons and I will return. Sincerely, Patruk Sivid [/QUOTE]
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