Jurden-Quorr
Code:
[B]Name:[/B] Jurgen-Quorr
[B]Class:[/B] Ghaele 2
[b]Divine Rank:[/b] 0
[B]Size:[/B] medium (+0)
[B]Gender:[/B] male
[B]Alignment:[/B] chaotic good (Ysgard)
[B]Deity:[/B] <none>
[B]Str:[/B] 16 +3 (08p.) [B]Level:[/B] 2 [B]XP:[/B] 1,001
[B]Dex:[/B] 15 +2 (05p. +2) [B]BAB:[/B] +2 [B]HP:[/B] 16 (2d8+0)
[B]Con:[/B] 10 +0 (02p.) [B]Grapple:[/B] +5 [B]Dmg Red:[/B] 10/epic | 0/evil & cold iron
[B]Int:[/B] 8 -1 (00p.) [B]Speed:[/B] 60' [B]Spell Res:[/B] 32
[B]Wis:[/B] 14 +2 (06p.) [B]Init:[/B] +2 [B]Spell Save:[/B] +0
[B]Cha:[/B] 12 +1 (04p.) [B]ACP:[/B] -2 [B]Spell Fail:[/B] 00%
[B]Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total[/B]
[B]Armor:[/B] 10 +4 +0 +2 +0 +0 +0 16
[B]Touch:[/B] 12 [B]Flatfooted:[/B] 14
[B]Base Mod Misc Total[/B]
[B]Fort:[/B] 3 +0 +3 (+7 vs. Poison)
[B]Ref:[/B] 3 +2 +5
[B]Will:[/B] 3 +2 +5
[B]Weapon Attack Damage Critical[/B]
Dagger +4 1d4+3 19-20x2 P/S
Greataxe +4 1d12+4 20-20x3 S
Gauntlet +4 1d3+3 20-20x2 B
[B]Languages:[/B] Celestial, Infernal, Draconic, Planar Common
[B]Abilities:[/B] Outsider subtype (chaotic, good), Darkvision 60', Lowlight
vision, +4 racial bonus on saving throws vs. Poison, Cast spells as a Cleric 1
w/ access to Air, Animal, Chaos, Good, and Plant domains;
Divine Rank 0 (godling; Immortal, cannot grant spells)
[b]Godling Abilities[/b]
Fire Resistance: 5,
[I]Transmutation[/I]: A deity is immune to polymorphing, petrification,
or any other attack that alters its form. Any shape-altering powers the deity might have
work normally on itself.
[I]Energy Drain, Ability Drain, Ability Damage[/I]: A deity is not subject to energy
drain, ability drain, or ability damage.
[I]Mind-Affecting Effects[/I]: A deity is immune to mind-affecting effects (charms,
compulsions, phantasms, patterns, and morale effects).
[b]Spell-like Abilities:[b] 1/day
[COLOR=Gray][I]aid, alter self, color spray, comprehend languages,
continual flame, cure light wounds, dancing lights, detect evil,
detect thoughts,[/I][/COLOR] and [COLOR=Gray][I]see invisibility[/I][/COLOR]
[B]Spells Prepared:[/B] Caster Level: 2
0th Level (4;DC 12): Detect Magic, Guidance, Light, Mending
1st Level (3;DC 13): Entangle, Cure Light Wounds, Command
[B]Feats:[/B] Proficiency in all Simple & Martial Weapons, Light Armor Proficiency,
[B]Skill Points:[/B] 35 [B]Max Ranks:[/B] 5/2
[B]Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total[/B]
Concentration 5 +1 +6
Escape Artist 3 +2 -2 +3
Hide 2 +2 -2 +2
Know (local) 5 -1 +4
Know (planes) 5 -1 +4
Listen 1 +2 +3
Move Silently 4 +2 -2 +4
Sense Motive 5 +2 +7
Spot 5 +2 +7
[B]Equipment: Cost Weight[/B]
Chain Shirt 100gp 25lb
Greataxe 20gp 12lb
Dagger 02gp 01lb
Explorer's outfit 05gp 08lb
(3) Torches 03sp 3lb
Flint/steel 01gp --lb
Iron Gauntlet 02gp 01lb
Waterskin 01gp 04lb
Rations (3 days) 15sp 03lb
50' of Rope 01gp 10lb
Thunderstone 30gp 01lb
Tindertwig 01gp --lb
Smokestick 20gp .5lb
[B]Total Weight:[/B]68.5lb [B]Money:[/B] 02gp 19sp 10cp
[B]Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push[/B]
[B]Max Weight:[/B] 76 153 230 460 1150
[B]Age:[/B] <unknown>
[B]Height:[/B] 6'8"
[B]Weight:[/B] 194lb
[B]Eyes:[/B] ...like cornflower-blue sapphires
[B]Hair:[/B] none; clean, polished, taught skin (hair has been shaven)
[B]Other:[/B] numerous small violet rimmed magenta runes on shoulders, neck, & back.
Celestial runes, spelling out Infernal words, names, verses, & hymns (slight glow, 1/4 - 1/2 of a candle)
[B]Skin:[/B] ebony
[B]Appearance:[/B] Muscular, with the stocky build of an wrestler. Tends to dress in ratty
clothes... clean, but patched and cheap. Aside from his unusual appearance and his
wasted/exhausted expression, he appears to be a typical Ghaele... except for his left
hand/forearm. It appears to be formed of a transparent corn-flower blue crystal, but
behaves in all ways as a normal hand.
Background: The soft roar of small raindrops striking tin roves reached the softly swept back ears of the creature lying in the gutter. The filth and trash of a month’s worth of neglect and carelessness surrounded him.
The creature experienced pain as a rat nibbled on his exposed leg, seeking nourishment. With a groggy thought and an unpracticed reflex, it crushed the rodent with a backhand blow. Though it knew that the movement was technically correct, the blow felt wrong somehow… somewhere within the foggy depths of it’s mind, it knew that it should have done something else. There was another reflex ingrained into it… yet it seemed unable to execute that reflex, like a newly blinded man searching for a sunrise that will never come.
He opened his eyes (yes, he was a he, it decided) and sat up. He seemed to be in an enormous gutter, 5 feet on each side. Assorted usessless relics surrounded him, surrounded by the scum of the poorer side of civilization. The smell was terrible… yet somehow familiar. A memory surfaced in his mind with the force of volcanic eruption. His vision when white with pain and he remembered…
…Lifeless gray mud stretched as far as the eye could see in any direction. Sickly, stunted swamp trees & bushes reached feebly for the gray-red sky above. He traveled with two companions. A beautiful woman, no… she wasn’t a woman… she was wrong, not evil, but definitely wrong… and he was mightily attracted to her) and a mortal. He couldn’t remember the mortal’s name, but it was a paladin favored by his patron power. He’d held a lot of respect for the mortal… and a brotherly affection. They’d traveled together for a long time. The paladin pointed and the trio advanced upon a single blue leaved, bone white tree that reached up out of the mud… and the memory faded.
He didn’t know what that meant, but he supposed that he should get out of the gutter. He had a name, he knew… but it seemed improper to him. As if it no longer fit. Lhowar D’him, 17th Guardian of the Auldspear (whatever that was) was his name… or rather, was his name. He sensed a powerful misgiving and foreboding at even thinking of himself as Lhowar D’him. He would need a new name.
Upon standing, he noted that the area was softly lit with a harsh magenta colored light. He looked around and noted that he was the source! Rather, some glowing tattoos were the source. They seemed to cover his upper arms and he sensed that they were on his back as well. He gasped and staggered as another memory surfaced with the force of a sledgehammer upon his mind…
…the Cornugon genuflected and said “They are ready… the Gereleths will not know what hit them.” It glanced at the woman beside him, the same radiantly beautiful woman, (no… she wasn’t a woman) from the previous memory. She hung on his arm with the casual familiarity of an old lover. “As soon as the mistress lowers her shielding magics, my troops will begin the attack.”
The memory faded and he once again found himself lying in the muck. Again, he picked himself up and took stock of his situation. He had no items and his hand felt like it was missing something familiar… a sword perhaps? He glanced at it and was dismayed. This was not right… the flesh ended just below his elbow and from there onward it was nothing but some sort of transparent corn-flower blue crystal. It felt odd, but seemed to behave just as a normal hand would. It was soft to the touch, malleable even, just as normal flesh would be. He sensed a great loss in this but knew not why.
Climbing out of the gutter, he noted the burned out husk of an inn and a few other buildings nearby. In the distance, under the weak light of 4 small moons, he noted a stone arch.
Portal, whispered his mind. He walked toward it and stopped as he arrived at his destination. The smell was awful, the ammonia and feces of a thousand creatures was heaped around the archway. And therein lie the key, he knew. He urinated on the support stones, and a lazy silvery light coalesced slowly in the archway. Without hesitation, he stepped through.
That the other end of the portal was not located at ground level was a complete surprise. Some passersby laughed at him as he picked himself up after falling the 15 feet from the rapidly diminishing portal. He looked up and was surprised at what he saw. Far, far off in the distance, beyond the hazy clouds of the sky he saw buildings and streets.
Sigil, whispered his mind. And with another hammer-blow to his psyche, he remembered…
…He carried the young mortal paladin as he sprinted down the street. He knew that’d they’d need to leave quickly, before she found them. Killing that Dabus had not been part of the plan. Innocents had been killed, but it was unavoidable. They had the key now! He avoided the shadows, having seen her use them before. With any luck they’d be mazed… he’d been mazed before. And after all, all mazes had exits…
He awoke to find a short creature with chicken legs and goat’s horns preparing to chop off his arm with a rusty axe. A blow to the solar plexus laid it out unconscious. He collected its axe and belt pouch. Shaking it experimentally, he figured it held a few coppers.
Jink, his mind whispered.
He wandered into a local bar in search of work and nourishment. He was weakened he knew… too many things were missing. Almost as though they’d be ripped from him. When he’d regained a measure of his former power, and when he had the money… jink he corrected himself, he’d find out who he used to be… and what it was that he’d done.
As he walked down the cobbled street, the ghaele soon to be known as Jurden-Quorr vowed to take revenge upon those who’d wronged him. The tattoos, his eyes and his hand, the blue-leafed tree, the mortal paladin, the boot-licking cornugon, the mysterious key that he'd risked so much to get, & last but by far from the least the beautiful wom… creature who’d moved him so powerfully… those were the keys to his past. He’d been doing something important. Good or Evil he did not know, nor did he care strangely enough (and this bothered him more than he cared to admit). But he knew that he’d have to find out about it eventually. For the moment, he was as weak a the proverbial kitten... but hat would change with time.
Note: Jurden knows who he is (or rather, who he was... at least, he thinks he does). He's missing details from the last few years and recent events, but still has spotty memories that stretch back hundreds of years... or so he thinks.
If the appearence modifications aren't okay, just let me know. I'm trying to play off the angle that although Jurden thinks he knows who and what he is, he may not be. DM's license to play with or not at your discretion.
Development: I'd like Jurgen to have contacts among the Athar. The mere mention of the Powers send him into a slow simmer... though he doesn't know why.
So this means that Air Genasi is an ECL +0 race? Not just that I'm delaying my ECL until next level, but that I'll actually never have one? 
Thanks, The803. I'll get to work on the character as soon as I can. I might not have time to do the number crunching until the day after tomorrow, but it certainly shouldn't be longer than that.
