Collection of Creatures, Creeps, and Characters

Creamsteak

Explorer
So far I've got 10 of these put together. They range from average (Cid Libelus, Avelmiera, Glugrith, and Harlan), to unique (Vostok, Hera, and Zasorthane), to glaringly nasty for their given CR (The Mauler).

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Afriggia Avelmiera Astrosilva - Female Asgardian High-Elf Cleric of Frigga 2 set in any campaign using norse mythology. Treated as a native outsider due to the nature of elves in a norse setting. Equipped with 900 gp in equipment. CR 2

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Cid Libellus - Male Human Cleric of Boccob ready to be adjusted for any campaign setting. Domains and deity can be changed with ease. Equipped with 200 gp in equipment. CR 1

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Dragoon Vostok - Male Human Barbarian 1 that takes advantage of the 3.5 alteration to the jump skill, allowing for impressively different combat style. Houserule for combat adjustment included, but can be removed. Equipped with 110 gp worth of equipment. CR 1

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Glugrith - Male Drow Wizard 4 using a normal spell selection and equipment package. Equipped as a 5th level NPC would be. CR 5

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Shocking Bats - Half-Dragon bats inspired by The Legend of Zelda. You could try red, blue, green, black, or even gold half-dragon templates, but this one is done for you. A creature that can be used creatively in combat to harass or surprise any group of characters. CR 3

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Harlan Scarrald - A tough fighter character that can fill many different roles in a campaign. Designed around making advantage of whirlwind at the lowest possible challenge rating. 900 gp in equipment. CR 4

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Hera Lysandra - Psychic Warrior designed for the Scarred Lands. Uses body fuel to make more powerful psionic attacks. Language and Deity need to be changed in order to support other campaigns, but otherwise fits normally into any game that allows psionics. CR 1

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Zasorthane, exiled of house Izridas Zigân - Male Drow Hexblade 4 exiled from his house for unintentional actions against his matriarch's youngest daughter. Uses a large adamantine greatsword sheathed over his back, attempting to flee from his persuers. Equipment worth 13,000 gp. CR 5

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The Ogre Mauler - Male Ogre Fighter 2/Barbarian 1 cannibal mercenary that is a extremely powerful, but susceptible to magic. 4,300 gp worth of equipment. CR 6
 
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Afriggia Avelmiera Astrosilva
Female Asgardian High-Elf Cleric of Frigga 2 (1000/3000xp)
Medium-Size Outsider (Asgard)
Hit Dice: 2d8-2 (14 hp)
Initiative: +0
Speed: 20 ft.
AC: 18 (+6 masterwork splint mail, +2 masterwork large wooden shield) Touch: 10, Flat-Footed 18
Attacks: Masterwork halfspear +0 melee or +1 ranged
Damage: Masterwork halfspear 1d6-1
Face/Reach: 5 ft. by 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Turn undead, cleric spells, domains (air, community), aura of good
Special Qualities: Outsider traits (darkvision 60 ft., cannot be raised), elven racial traits (without low-light vision)
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +0, Will +6
Abilities: Str 8 (0), Dex 11 (1), Con 8 (2), Int 12 (4), Wis 17 (13), Cha 15 (8)
Skills: Diplomacy +5 [3], Heal +5 [2], Knowledge (religion) +5 [4], Profession (midwife) +5 [2], Spellcraft +5 [4]
Feats: Spell focus (enchantment)
Languages: Elven (Aelftongue), Norse (Humantongue/Common), Aesirtongue (Celestial)

Spell Preparation
0 - Guidance x4
1st - Bless x2, Deathwatch x2

Equipment
Bronze field brazier (4 gp) (6 lb.)
Bronze holy symbol (10 gp) (1 lb.)
Cleric's vestments (5 gp) (6 lb.)
Common incense (5 gp) (1 lb.)
Flint and steel (1 gp) (1/10 lb.)
Masterwork halfspear (301 gp) (3 lb.)
Masterwork large wooden shield (157 gp) (10 lb.)
Masterwork splint mail (350 gp) (45 lb.)
Soap (5 sp) (1 lb.)
Trail ration (5 sp) (1 lb.)
Traveler's outfit (1 gp) (5 lb.)
Vigil candle (10 gp) (1/2 lb.)

5 Platinum pieces (1/10 lb.)
5 Silver pieces (1/10 lb.)

Total Weight: 79.8 lb. (Heavy Load)
Check Penalty: -6
Speed: 20 ft.
Run: x3

Background (Out of Character)
Avelmiera was at one time a lesser Norn, sharing with her sister Syvermeria the title and responsibility of being the Norn of Argadnias ("maternal faith"). As such, she gauged each daughter's wyrd as a mother, specifically the trust a mother would have for her children. As a Norn, Avelmeira and Syvermeria tended Yggdrasil at the well of Urd, while measuring the fates of mortals on Midgard. Avelmiera was forbidden to teach anything to mortals, to be dispassionate and simply comb the mortal's Wyrd. As a Norn, Avelmiera was bound to serve a particular cycle of judgement with her sister, but Avelmiera felt tied to the mortals. Avelmiera became attached to the mortal life of birth. She loved how a mother would bring into the world another mother in succession, daughters of a grand cycle. Each mother would birth another mother, and those with the strongest ties to Argadnias drew Avelmeira's heart closer to the mortal coil. As time passed, Avelmiera became weaker than her sister, and more distant from Yggdrasil's needs. Sif told Avelmiera to walk among the Vanir for 100 years while her sister would serve the purpose as the single guardian of Argadnias, punishing Avelmiera for her infraction.

Walking among the Vanir was at first a tragic pain for Avelmiera, as she could not speak their language, and they did not take kindly to her existence. She was not hassled, however, as the Vanir were not cruel in their treatment of Avelmiera. They simply ignored her, which upset the kindly Nord. When walking among a field of buttercups, she came upon a young woman and her child. Without hesitation, Avelmiera approached the pair and cautiously observed them. As the mother nursed her child, whispering a poem in the tongue of the giants, Avelmiera approached believing that these two would at least listen to her words. The pair, however, was not what they appeared. When Avelmiera had approached too near, the Mother transformed into a goat-headed giant, and the child into a two-headed horse. Confused, but too frightened to escape, Avelmiera was captured in a golden net, and dragged off by the pair.

Avelmiera was brought before Hel of Niflehiem, still unaware of the names of her captors. Queen Hel told Avelmiera that she would be fed to the undead for her love of mortals, and her attachment to the mortal coil. But, first, Avelmiera would sire a half-giant child to the god Surtur. Avelmiera was both spiteful and pleased with the fate that she had been dealt, and was happy to take up a child, nomatter what kind it would be. She willingly mothered the Half Giant, and Surtur allowed Avelmeira to live until the child had grown to his full strength, at which point the giant would eat it's mother. Avelmiera raised her son, trying to teach it to be respectful and good to women, but she had not ever been permitted to teach before. She felt that she had fully trained the child, and that it would never consume it's own mother for Surtur. The half-giant, however, had no desire to anger Surtur, who would surely devour him if he did not do what he was told. On the fateful day that Avelmiera had feared, the Half Giant swallowed his mother whole, appeasing Surtur.

Having been swallowed whole, Avelmiera was safe in her child's stomach, but bound to it for what seemed an eternity. She would be bound there, in her own childs stomach, where she tried to comfort him when he slept and tell stories of good will when he was alone. Avelmiera waited there for many days before, finally, the Goddess Frigga freed her.

The giant had heard his mother's words, and over many years had contemplated a plan to free her from his body. He could only think of one solution that would free his mother, however, without harming her. He knew that he would have to die, at the hands of an Aasir, on Aasir grounds, willingly. The giant, named Norgar'gra'sortur, walked up to the Goddess Frigga who had been waiting for this moment. He asked her to cut his stomach open, and let his mother free. Frigga accepted this plea, and mercifully ended the life of the half giant.

Avelmiera was now free, but she was saddened by her son's death. She cried before Frigga, pleading that she should die in place of her son. Stepping out from behind Frigga came Syvermeria, Avelmiera's sister. Syvermeria asked Avelmiera if she wanted to be free from her duties as a Norn. Avelmiera confessed that she had no desire to serve her given purpose, which she had never wanted. Avelmiera pleaded that she should be free, to teach and nurture as she did for her own son. Syvermeria, who wanted the same fate as Avelmiera, knew that she would be alone if she let go of her sister, but she also knew that she could never be happy if her sister was not happy. Syvermeria pleaded to Frigga to let her sister Avelmiera go to Midgard and be among the mortals, no-longer bound to the duties of being a Norn. Frigga had been expecting this for a very long time, knowing that she would need to free one of the Argadnias one day. Each sister suffered from the same desires, and one would never be happy so long as the other was unhappy. Frigga then bound the two sisters to an oath, "Each of you will live for three hundred years on Midgard, then you will return to the Aasir and serve in your sisters duties while she has her time on the mortal plane. After each of you has served your lives on Midgard, you will both return to your original purposes without question, and neither of you will be permitted to ever leave your lives as the Norns you are again. You will both be rendered impotent, having no children to call your own, and in turn you will both revere me for blessing you with this one and only opportunity to oppose your own Wyrds."

Avelmiera and Syvermeria had never considered before that they had spun their own Wyrds in time, and admitted that they must not be jealous of each other. The two then accepted Frigga's bindings Avelmiera then accepted that she will be the first to live her three hundred years as a mortal elf. Avelmiera was stripped of her much more wide-ranging powers as a Norn, and then sent to Midgard. Avelmiera began her life, walking the vast lands from village to village, at first only spying on young mothers and children, but soon she realized that as a servant of Frigga, she could help these mothers when their children were born. Her quest to go from mother to mother, and deliver the children, under a candlelight vigil, became her life. She loved this blessing, and soon found that many fathers were so thankful to Avelmiera that they left a gift for her on her way out. After a few generations of her service, she earned the name "Matron" and was called this by the children that had been born with her tender aid. As she traveled from town to town, she also began to feel responsible for those children who were without mothers. Avelmiera took great care to protect the children, and aid in the protection of the Mortal coil.

Avelmiera has become a Matron and a protector. She now travels from town to town, without much knowledge of where the next mother would be found, but now she also has become attached to the many children that she has delivered. Matron sees herself as the Valkyrie of the mortal children, delivering the children into the world where they will prove themselves for Asgard, and the Valkyries judgment. Matron has taken it upon herself to also travel with Mortals who risk their own lives to protect their families, as a healer and aid. She has bandaged many wounds in her time, and has taken it upon herself to continue this practice for the next 164 years she has left to be what she has become.
 
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Cid Libellus
Human Cleric of Boccob 1
Hit Dice: 1d8+2 (10 hp)
Initiative: -1 (dex)
Speed: 20 ft. (heavy load)
AC: 13 (-1 dex, +4 scale mail) Flat-Footed: 13 Touch: 9
Attacks: Quarterstaff -1 melee, sling -2 ranged
Damage: Quarterstaff 1d6-1 bludgeoning, sling 1d3 bludgeoning
Class Abilities: Cleric spells, domains (knowledge, magic), aura of good
Race Abilities: Human
Saves: Fort +4, Ref -1, Will +6
Abilities: Str 8, Dex 8, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 18, Cha 11
Skills: +5 concentration [3 ranks], +5 Craft (bookbinding) [2 ranks], +2 diplomacy [2 ranks], +6 heal [2 ranks], +5 knowledge (arcana) [2 ranks], +4 knowledge (geography) [1 ranks], +5 knowledge (history) [2 ranks], +5 knowledge (nobility and royalty) [1 ranks], +9 knowledge (religion) [4 ranks], +6 profession (scribe) [2 ranks], +6 Spellcraft [3 ranks]
Feats: Scribe scroll, spell focus (enchantment)

Equipment
Candles (20) (0.2 gp) (0 lb.)
Cleric's vestments (5 gp) (6 lb.)
Holy symbol, silver (25 gp) (1 lb.)
Ink (8 oz. Vial) (64 gp) (1 lb.)
Inkpen (0.1 gp) (0 lb.)
Lantern (hooded) (7 gp) (2 lb.)
Oil (2 1-pint flasks) (0.2 gp) (2 lb.)
Quarterstaff (0 gp) (4 lb.)
Scale Mail (50 gp) (30 lb.)
Scrollbook (300 pages) (45 gp) (9 lb.)
Sling (0 gp) (0 lb.)
Traveler's outfit (1 gp) (5 lb.)

Platinum: 0 (0 lb.)
Gold: 3 (0.1 lb.)
Silver: 5 (0.1 lb.)
Copper: 0 (0 lb.)

Encumbrance: 60.2 lb (heavy load)

Librum of Foresight
Pages 1-32 - 0th Level Spells
Guidance
Guidance
Detect Magic
Detect Magic
Pages 33-112 - 1st Level Spells
Cure Light Wounds
Cure Light Wounds
Cure Light Wounds
Magic Stone
Magic Stone
Shielf of Faith

General: Take your ordinary 1st level Cleric, but this one's different. He's using a spell book to cast his spells. This isn't because he is bad favor with his god, it's just the methodology of the clergy of a god of knowledge. This way he doesn't 'miss opportunities' by saving his spells up, he's always got yesterdays scribes handy with him.

It costs him a bit of money to cast his spells this way, of course, he has to pay 37.5 gold pieces to scribe his three first level spells into his book. This expense is not something that's easy to handle when your a young adventurer. If he wants to scribe his weaker spells, well, that's only 18.75 gold pieces.

This cleric, you see, thinks that should there ever be an emergency, he's prepared with a whole book full of cure light wounds spells. He figures that when he has the time to scribe spells in the morning, he can gradually build up a collection for days when there are emergencies.

Background (In Character)
A vaguely balding dark haired man with a rather thin beard outlining his face like a christmas wreath stumbles into the doorway, solidly bruising his head on his way in. "These doors, you would figure they would have some give, since they are on hinges. Ai, what would this be, a bar? No no no, I can't have a drink, the spirits get to me. It'll ruin my mind, unclog my memory. Of course, maybe that's not a bad idea. Erm... maybe that's not a good idea... Oh my did I remember to pack some clothes? Oh my... thinking on too much, I should have borrowed a book from the library on the way, woulda been a better use of my time than this..."

Appearing, not only discoordinated but rather distraught, in some form of simple robe, what appears to be a stammering and slightly unkempt hamlet fool trips his way up into the room. "Does anyone here have a spare linen, I need to bandage my poor head. I have a platinum crown to spare for it, really... I'm serious. Money's not worth all that much to me... I'm not lying..." Holding himself upright on a wooden staff produced from somewhere under his dingy robes, for a brief second you can see that the dusty man is armed with a flask full of black ichor of some kind and a needle. He makes a cursory glance at the room itself, and then tries to unhook a book hanging under his left arm on some form of rigged leather strap. "Oh I'm sorry. I was told to come here by an intelligent seeming woman. I won't be having anything to drink, and I know none of you want any of my company, so I'll just set myself down at a table if the owner won't throw me out for my appearance. I've been on the road a bit, and I'm not too attractive the way I'm dressed right now." Moving away from everyone with his back turned, under his cloak it appears he may have a hunchback. After sitting, however, it becomes apparent that he has a rather rounded off backpack from which he draws yet another book. Laying the two tomes on top of each other, the man begins to ponder the contents of the black and white bound tome. "My name is Cid, in case any of you were not too disturbed by me. I'm just a humble traveler... seeking to learn what there is to learn on the road..."

"I'm not exactly sure if you'd call me a cleric...", turning to one, "I don't drink... er... well I don't drink now... or maybe I will take a drink, but not in this instance... er I might actually still... but not yet... but don't think I'm going to... er maybe you should... no... I don't want a drink, I think...", turning to the group, "The church of Boccob is very structured, very orderly, and organized. I'm not exactly a member of thier structure, I'm different, my training was different, my practice is different, and my skills are different. I don't think the church even knows I exist, I've never actually met a priest of Boccob. I was trained by my grandfather partially, but he was a wizard. I found my gift through prayer though, he was strict about my training... and although I never quite met his original expectations as a wizard, my prayers and my diligence helped me to learn something else. I guess I'm some kind of divine wizard, and I know that I am gaining my power from the same energy as the clergy of Boccob draw thier power... it's complicated, I know, I hope not to confuse you." Cid takes a moment to rest, and lets the conversation continue a bit before he interjects some more, "I'm a scholar I guess... I learned my reading and writing skills from my grandfather. It was only by chance, or perhaps strength of will, that I gained my blessing. When my grandfather passed away, he left me only two things. This tome, which is empty now, but he said one day it would contain all his magic... and a quarterstaff that he said at one time contained a vast supply of fireballs and flaming arrows..."

Cid looks over the group a bit... and then explains, "My magic is imbued in me and layed out through my pen onto this very paper. On a few occations I have been able to write out the incantations necessary to heal others, and gain guidance from my divine favor. In order to hold more magic, however, my provider requires certain very particular contributions from me, in the form of donation and work towards those things that my divine protector would wish m to do."

Proping his tall walking stick up, Cid then goes into a length about it's history, "This was my grandfathers staff. He was a bold bold man, a conjurer and evoker of sorts, and it was he who crafted this weapon. He whittled the wood down to a perfect shaft himself, but now it seems far too beaten to be considered the work of a master any longer. He enchanted it eventually, made it out to be a staff full of the element that he favored most. He was the first and last to get any use out of it in such a manor. My mother, who was a bit of a rogue, stole it from Grandfather before I was born and made off with it. She was tricked into joining a party of singing bandits who made her act against her nature. Eventually they were attacked by a very dangerous man that they thought they had cheated out of his magic sword. He, and his group, killed my mother. My father ran off, leaving me in her arms, at least that's what I was told. It was a few weeks later when I was delivered to my grandfather by my mother's friends. He decided to make after the mercenaries that had killed my mother, and I was taken care of by my grandmother. He was attacked with his own staff by the groups wizard, but he managed to get his revenge. He lost sight in his eyes for a few days, and had trouble finding someone who would treat his weakness, but eventually he made it home, but my mother was never raised by any priest, and this staff was drained of the last of it's charges."
 
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Dragoon Vostok
Human Barbarian 1
Hit Dice: 1d12 (12 hp)
Initiative: +1 (Dex)
Speed: 40 ft.
AC: 13 (+1 Dex, +2 Armor)
Attacks: Glaive +5 melee
Damage: Glaive 1d10+6 slashing
Racial Traits: Favored Class (Barbarian)
Class Features: Fast movement, illiteracy, rage 1/day
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +1, Will +0
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 10, Int 13, Wis 10, Cha 8
Skills: +8 Climb [4 ranks], +1 Handle Animal [2 ranks], +15 Jump [4 ranks], +5 Tumble [4 ranks], cc Literacy [2 cc ranks], cc Speak Language (Calastian) [2 cc ranks], +6 Swim [2 ranks]
Feats: Run, Skill Focus (Jump)
Languages: Calastian, Orc, Veshian

Skills Table
Climb (+4 Ranks, +4 Strength) +2 when using Climber's Kit
Handle Animal (2 Ranks, -1 Charisma)
Jump (+4 Ranks, +4 Strength, +4 Ranks, +3 Skill Focus) +4 to Jumps that begin with a run of 20 feet
Tumble (+4 Ranks, +1 Dexterity)
Literacy (Can read and write)
Calastian (Speaks Calastian)
Swim (+2 Ranks, +4 Strength)

Equipment
Leather Armor (10 gp, 15 lb.)
Glaive (8 gp, 10 lb.)
Climber's Kit (80 gp, 5 lb.)
Locked Gauntlets (8 gp, 5 lb.)

Things this character can typically do: Climb uneven surface with some narrow handholds and footholds, such as a typical wall in a dungeon or ruins. Jump 20 feet with a 20 foot run in a straight line to coincide with a charge attack (+3 to hit/+2 Damage/-4 AC) or take a 20 foot run and jump to have a verticle reach of 15 feet. Lift vast amounts of weight overhead, including carrying a wounded comrad out of a dangerous situation. Weild a Glaive with lethal power and control, or disarm an opponent of their weapon by overpowering them.

[Houserule]
Leap Attack: This character makes use of a leap attack style charge. This has the effects of a charge (+2 to hit, -2 AC), plus attacking from higher ground (+1 to hit), but renders the user off balance (-2 AC). For every full 10 feet of jump used with the movement, the character deals +1 additional damage.

For example, a character that can make a 50 foot running jump (20 feet running to start) would be able to deal +3 damage if they could complete their movement and then make an attack as part of a leap attack. The disadvantage is that the character must finish his movement before the attack, so any character would be limited to his movement (40 feet for this character) before performing the attack. You must start with a running jump to gain the benefits from this attack.
 

Glugrith
Drow Wizard 4
Hit Dice: 4d4+4 (14 hp)
Initiative: +8 (+4 dex, +4 feats)
Speed: 30 ft.
AC: 18 (+4 dex, +4 armor)
Attacks: Masterwork Rapier +2 melee
Damage: Rapier 1d6-1/18-20 piercing
Racial Traits: Darkvision (120 ft.), drow racial traits, favored class (wizard), light blindness, spell-like abilities, spell resistance 15, weapon proficiencies
Class Features: Summon familiar (bat), wizard spells
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +3
Abilities: Str 8, Dex 18, Con 13, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 16
Skills: +8 Concentration [7 ranks], +8 Knowledge (religion), +8 Knowledge (arcana) [7 ranks], +8 Spellcraft [7 ranks]
Languages: Common, dwarf, elven, giant, undercommon
Feats: Improved initiative, [scribe scroll], spell penetration
CR: 5

Drow Traits (Ex): Immunity to magic sleep effects, a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells or effects and a +2 racial bonus on Will saves against spells and spell-like abilities. +2 racial bonus on Listen, Search, and Spot checks. A drow who merely passes within 5 feet of a secret or concealed door is entitled to a Search check to notice it as if she were actively looking for it.

Light Blindness: Abrupt exposure to bright light (such as sunlight or a daylight spell) blinds drow for 1 round. On subsequent rounds, they are dazzled as long as they remain in the affected area.

Spell-Like Abilities: Drow can use the following spell-like abilities once per day: dancing lights, darkness, faerie fire. Caster level equals the drow’s class levels.

Weapon Proficiency: A drow is automatically proficient with the hand crossbow, the rapier, and the short sword. This trait replaces the high elf ’s weapon proficiency.

Spell Preparation
4 Cantripts - Acid splash, detect magic, detect poison, read magic
4 1st level - Charm person, expeditious retreat, magic missile, sleep
3 2nd level - Invisibility, summon monster II, web

Equipment
Masterwork rapier (320 gp)
Mithral chain shirt (1100 gp)
Wand of Magic Missile (1st caster level) (750 gp)
Scroll of stoneskin (700 gp)
Scroll of rope trick (150 gp)
Scroll of identify (125 gp)
Potion of cure-light wounds (50 gp)
Oil of Magic weapon (50 gp)
3 doses of drow sleep poison

5 gold coins
5 silver coins
 

Battery the Bronze Bat
Diminutive Dragon
Hit Dice: 1d10+1 (11 hp)
Initiative: +5 (dex)
Speed: 5 ft., fly 40 ft. (good)
AC: 23 (+4 size, +5 Dex, +4 natural)
Attacks: 2 claws -2 melee, bite -7 melee
Damage: Claws 1d2-1 slashing, bite 1-1
Face/Reach: 1 ft. by 1 ft./0 ft.
Special Attacks: Breath Attack
Special Qualities: Blindsense, plus darkvision out to 60 feet and low-light vision, immunity to sleep and paralysis effects, and immunity to electricity.
Saves: Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +4
Abilities: Str 9, Dex 20, Con 12, Int 6, Wis 14, Cha 7
Skills: Listen +10*, Move Silently +6, cc Speak Language (Common, Draconic, Ignan), Spot +10*
________________________________________________
Climate/Terrain: A small abandoned mansion in a tiny farming community on a mountain.
Organization: Solitary, Pair (Battery and Duracel), or Colony (26 such bats)
Challenge Rating: 3
Treasure: None

Blindsense (Ex): A bat notices and locates creatures within 20 feet. Opponents still have 100% concealment against a creature with blindsense.


Breath Weapon (Su): 1/day - Battery's breath weapon deals 6d8 points of electricity damage. A successful Reflex save (DC 11) reduces damage by half.

Skills: *A bat has a +4 racial bonus on Spot and Listen checks. These bonuses are lost if its blindsense is negated.

General: Battery is one of a handful of bats born from an adult Bronze Dragon and a rather stunning incident involving a mage, a butler, and an extremely expensive wand. The litter, in total, counts to 26 of their kind. Other than Duracel, Battery's older brother, Battery is the strongest and fastest of his kin. They have occupied their humble mansion for a number of years, warding off intruders with their incredibly powerful breath attacks. Although they know nothing of their own origins, they seek a mentor of some kind, and to see the world and discover where they may have come from. The mansion that they have been housed in provides ample food, but other than the few of them that have taken to reading from the library, there is little to do.
 

Harlan Scarrald
Human War3/Ftr2
Hit Dice: 3d8+2d10+10 (38 hp)
Initiative: +1 (dex)
Speed: 30 ft.
AC: 17 (+1 dex, +4 chain shirt, +2 Large Steel) Touch: 11 Flat-Footed: 16
Attacks: Masterwork longsword +9 melee; or light flail +8 melee; or halberd +8 melee; or mighty (str 16) composite longbow +6 ranged
Damage: longsword 1d8+3/19-20x2 slashing, light flail 1d8+3/x2 bludgeoning, halberd 1d10+4/x3 slashing and piercing, composite longbow 1d8+3 piercing
Racial Traits: Favored class (warrior)
Class Abilities: Simple and martial weapon proficiency, light, medium, and heavy armor and shield proficiencies
Saves: Fort +8, Ref +2, Will +1
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 11, Cha 12
Skills: Climb +1 [2 ranks], CC Diplomacy +3 [4 ranks], Intimidate +9 [8 ranks], Jump +1 [2 ranks], CC Listen +2 [4 ranks], CC Profession (Brewer) +1 [2 ranks], CC Sense Motive +4 [8 ranks], Speak Language (Gith) [2 ranks], CC Spot +4 [8 ranks]
Feats: Dodge, Expertise, Mobility, Spring Attack, Whirlwind Attack
Challenge Rating: 4
Languages: Common, Dwarven, Elven, *Gith

*With Given Background

General: Harlan is a local NPC that fits into many roles. He can be a local thug, a hired brute, a mercenary, a cohort, a man taking care of his mother, looking for a life on the road, or a rustic woodsman living out of a cabin hidden off the beaten path. Generally he tries to avoid combat, using either diplomacy or intimidate if he can, and if he can get what he needs without combat he will do so without question. When it comes to a fight, he's surprisingly more agile than most expect. He may lug around some very heavy equipment, but if he's already handling one of his weapons, he will quickly make use of them. He doesn't actively carry all of his equipment unless he needs to, but he does keep his flail on him at all times. If he expects to need one, he's quick to acquire a reach weapon if possible to maximize his spring attack or whirlwind attack.

Variants: If Harlan needs to be made slightly more challenging, he can swap his warrior levels for ranger levels at a CR one higher. If he's filling the role of a protector, he makes a decent Paladin with the same adjustment. It's also possible to make Harlan an effective Rog4/Ftr2, at a CR of 6.

Combat: In combat, Harlan prefers melee combat to ranged. His preferred method of attack involves his light flail and shield, and trying to focus on one opponent at a time. If an opponent seems overwhelming, he may use his acquired longsword and spring attack, but in general he will resort to diplomacy or retreat. When confronted with multiple weaker opponents, Harlan will use his halberd or longsword and his whirlwind attack as often as possible, especially if he can get his hands on a reach weapon.

Background (In Character)
"Harlan is my father's name. At least, that's what my mother always told me. She worked in the tavern, where I've spent most of my life. She always told me that as soon as my uncle Thomas tracked down the man who sired me, he would come home and settle down, and we'd live a life in luxury with his money. My mother wasn't very wise, I suppose. She was a barmaid, and she got knocked up when some shiny armored up adventurer decided that he had a liking for her. She named me after him, which is if the name he gave was even his real name. I became responsible for her from that point on, her and the life she wanted for herself."

"I grew up under the tables in that tavern. In exchange for my own room and board, as soon as I was able to walk and talk, I was in charge of watching the pockets of the good folks that were regulars from town. That didn't mean much except when travelers would stop by. I'd watch their hands, as best I could, to make sure nothing was ever stolen from the regular folk. The couple times I managed to catch a thief, I'd end up inciting an argument between the pickpocket and the locals. Those never went very well for the locals, even if they did manage to get the thief to confess and hand over the money."

"Once I was old enough to turn a rusted out crank, I was put to work in the Brewery at night. In exchange, I was given some change to help make my life and my mother's easier. It was good work, even though I was getting in the way more than anything. I learned enough about being a brewer to make myself useful, but that was about the only technical training I ever had. It was an easier time, back before the tavern became a shade more dangerous."

"About the time I was old enough to mean anything, the bartender was getting to that age where he couldn't be his own enforcer anymore. At the same time, the rogues' guild that my Uncle was a charter member of started picking up some really nasty types. My uncle, being on the road as often as he is, had no idea just how nasty his old friends had been getting. Apparently some of them had done something real awful, and now the guild was growing a great deal. The bar went from an occasional place to have a drink to a meeting place for a bunch of thugs. At the same time, my spotting job was made into a bouncing job, and it wasn't exactly the easiest. I had my ass handed to me quite a few times, and it wasn't just fists coming for me."

"So I decided I needed some weapons training, and the only place I could get it around here was the constable. He wasn't the smartest man, but he knew how to use his axe, and he knew how to teach. That was good enough for me, but it meant I'd have to serve in the watch. That meant I couldn't be at the bar nearly as much, and it meant a lot of work. I took him up on the offer, and ended up pulling two hard jobs and trying not to look like a slouch at either. It was tough, and even after I felt like I had learned everything I could from the watch, I wasn't about to quit."

"There was also a girl around this time, someone that I honestly thought I'd end up married to. The inn across town employed her, and she had a similar upbringing. The difference with her being she knew her mother and father, and considering her father ran the inn, she had a pretty good future to look forwards to. Better than mine at least. We courted for two full years, and I honestly enjoyed her company. Thing was, I was beginning to feel like my life was headed nowhere, and I wanted to leave. I wanted to hit the road and see someplace else. I had lived in a dank bar most of my life, and I wanted to do something. She didn't like that very much, and tried to dissuade me. The more she tried, though, the more I was ready to leave. Let's leave it at, we parted ways and she ended up marrying a bard. That pretty much covers that end of my life."

"So I got on the road, got myself moving, and along with a flail that had at one time belonged to the town's priest, I started traveling in circles. I'd go to the next town, and then to the town after that, but by the time I hit the third or fourth town, I started heading back. I was never gone for more than two seasons; it was because I was worried about my mother. I wasn't earning a great deal of money traveling either, it seemed like I was just whittling away at the pennies I had managed to save from working two full jobs for four full years."

"I did this for two years, walking circular paths from town to town, until I came home one day and found the bar empty. Don't worry, nothing bad had happened, it was just a slow night. The only person in the place was a man with a yellowish hue of skin and a pointed set of ears. He looked like he was a packrat, with two huge bags strapped to his back, and an extremely dingy fur coat. I wouldn't have thought much of it, had the bar not been completely empty at the time. I heard someone moving things up the stairwell from the cellar, and went around to help the bartender move up a really old barrel of oil. He said hello, asked if I had visited my mother yet, and told me that the thieves' guild had been attacked while I was away. Apparently, with the consent of the watch, their underground network was infiltrated by a group of travelers who had been looking for something the thieves had stolen from an exceptionally wealthy man a couple towns over. I asked, of course, if my uncle had been there, and luckily he hadn't. Apparently none of the charter members had been involved at all, and they were all on their way back at this very moment. The man that I had spotted when I came into the bar was a messenger from one of those groups, and this ale had been purchased and moved up for that group which would arrive this night."

"So, I sat down next to the funny looking man, with his oddly stretched skin, and I asked him a few questions. Basic questions you use to gauge a persons personality, find out what kind of group would be heading in. Not really because I was interested, but mostly because I was worried that anyone who had the kind of money necessary in order to afford that kind of ale was probably dangerous. My judgment though, was that this man was strict and disciplined. He was dangerous, but not the kind of danger that I had been worried about. At one point he told me that I looked like the sort of person that he would travel with, and even though I didn't know what that meant I had to believe that I was being honored. He proposed something to me that was probably the best bargain I had ever come across in my life, in exchange for him teaching me his language and how to fight like a professional, he only wanted me to travel with him. At the time I was sure this was too good to be true, three positives in my book, but I had to at least see it out. There was something incredibly interesting about this guy, no matter what kind of freakish race he happened to be."

"My life turned into a series of dangerous happenings, not the least of which includes the day I was left behind. The Githyanki, as he called his race, was a rebel, plotting anarchy against the incredibly vast empire that he had escaped. His friends were a revered group of mercenaries working towards their individual goals. Among them were a grandly powerful divine healer, a masterful acrobat and assassin, an amazingly strong ogre, and the Githyanki soldier. He wielded some kind of incredible blade, supposedly his fathers, which had been bestowed upon him by the horrible beast that controls his people. His father, once he had reached a certain level of power, was utterly annihilated, despite it's loyalty, by the creature known to his people as the Lich Queen. As the group advanced across the region, in search of some kind of spell, to which I have little to no memory of the happenings now, they were periodically being observed by a group of assassins who planned on striking when the party was at it's weakest. When that moment came, I was instantly incapacitated and left for dead by the assassins, as the battle began. I regained consciousness on the field of battle, where the massive Ogre and the acrobat lay there dead. I could barely move, but I struggled for the potion that had been given to me for an emergency, in my pack a few feet away. After a great deal of pain, not the least of which was pulling a jagged knife out of my leg, I managed to get to my feet. I felt weakened, a poison perhaps was on the blade, but I was still strong enough to break the ground. And so I did just that, I dug a pit for the acrobat. When faced with the horrendous task of trying to bury the ogre, I was intimidated at first. I delayed and spent the rest of the day working some wood with the knife that had been placed in my thigh, and whittled out the name of that acrobat. The next day I felt a strong calling to finish my previous job, and I began the work of digging a 9 by 10 foot hole, 8 feet deep, and marking the site. I planned to return there at a later time, after I had made it to a town where I could recover."

"Ever since then, I've been in an endless cycle of mercenary work. I picked up the trade and the skills necessary from the Githyanki and his friends. If either of the other two members of the group survived, I guess they will contact me. I visited the gravesite a year ago... and I brought a hired cleric with me to sanctify the place. I paid a good portion of my earnings to have real graves built for the two... and I had the battle site thoroughly investigated by a pair of brothers who searched out the whole site. They pointed out where some arrows had hit marks, and also managed to recover a ring that I did not recognize, and a few places where blood had seeped into the ground. Lastly, I formed a team of carpenters and built a home for myself, for those few times when I wish to spend a week there. I tried to make sure it was as hidden as possible, but theres nothing that could be stolen there. I've seen signs that someone has slept there at times, and other times it looks like the place has been searched out. The rest of my time is spent looking for work, working, and visiting my mother. Every now and then uncle comes by, I don't say a word, but my mother always asks if he's seen my father."
 
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Hera Lysandra
Human Psychic Warrior 1
Hit Dice: 1d8+1 (9 hp)
Initiative: +2 (dex)
Speed: 30 ft.
AC: 14 (+2 dex, +2 leather armor) Touch: 12 Flat-footed: 12
Attacks: Silvered dagger +1 melee
Damage: Dagger 1d4+1 piercing
Racial Traits: Favored class (psychic warrior)
Class Abilities: Simple and martial weapon proficiency, light, medium, and heavy armor and shield proficiencies (not tower shield), psionics, psionic attack modes (mind blast, ego whip)
Saves: Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +2
Abilities: Str 13, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 13, Wis 15, Cha 17
Skills: Autohypnosis +3 [4 ranks], Concentration +5 [4 ranks], Stabilize Self +5 [4 ranks]
Feats: Inner Strength, Talented, Body Fuel
Psionics: (3 Talents/3 Power Points) - Daze, Distract
Languages: Ledean (common), Calastian (or deities favored language)
Challenge Rating: 1

General: Hera is a devout worshipper of Balsameth, the Slayer, in the Scarred Lands, despite being psionic in nature. In the Forgotten Realms she may be a worshipper of Lady Shar, as fitting, or any psionic deity. In other campaign settings it really comes down to the DM. Her devotion to her god is undeniable no matter how you look at it. She fancies herself some kind of chosen, gifted, or otherwise connected, despite the usual faithful finding her misguided if not like a heretic. Her few enemies so far, mostly nothing more than thugs, were convinced tenfold when their entire group was defeated by one girl and here dark techniques.

Variants: A more powerful version if Hera is conceivable, and it is also possible for her to multiclass as a cleric or psion, whichever best suits her, depending on whether she is interpreted as a real devout, or a misguided heretic.

Combat: Hera is more powerful than most people would give her, at the very least. She isn't experienced in real combat nearly as much as her training would have one guess. She's good with a dagger, and even better with a bow, but times have been tough on her. She lacks proper equipment to really be a warrior, but her psychic powers and her devotion to her religion make her someone to be nice to. Either way, if she is threatened she will try her dagger at first, unless she's outnumbered or grossly overwhelmed. If she is working with a group, she prefers to hang back and use her ego whip psionic attack mode liberally against opponents that engage in melee. After the dagger fails and she is completely alone, or if she doesn't think her normal attacks are a good choice, she will resort to using her psychic powers. Unlike most other psionic characters, she can burn her body and mind in order to increase her power reservoir to the point where she can launch a Mind Blast.

Mind Blast: In order to use Mind Blast as a special purpose power, Hera must burn at least 12 ability score points. She understands how this affects her body, and avoids this attack unless seriously threatened. Since ability score damage is recovered at the rate of 1 point per ability score per day, it's best for her to spread the damage out among her physical and mental attributes. Ability score points are drained at a rate of 2 points for 1 power point, to a maximum of 60 ability score points. If she is at full power before launcher her attack, the first mind blast reduces her ability scores to Str 10, Dex 12, Con 10, Int 11, Wis 13, Cha 16 (DC 1d20+7 against non-psionic characters). The second attack reduces her scores to Str 7, Dex 9, Con 8, Int 9, Wis 11, Cha 16 (DC 1d20+7 against non-psionic characters). The third, and final, mind blast available to Hera leaves her almost completely devoid of strength, she can still perform basic combat actions if she isn't wounded, and she can even launch weaker psionic powers a few times by burning her body even further into death. This final mind blast leaves Hera with a Str 4, Dex 6, Con 6, Int 7, Wis 9, Cha 16 (DC 1d20+7 against non-psionic characters).

Background (Out of Character)
Hera introduces herself as, "Lady Lysandra, priestess of Balsameth," unless she is speaking to an official of a religion. As her practices of worship are secret, and dangerous to herself and others, she tends to avoid talking about them. If someone is thoroughly interested, she burns her body and mind, slowly, over the course of 8 hours, till she has accumulated a vast amount of power into her mind... and tries to 'hold the charge' for as long as possible. When she rests afterwards, it takes days to recover, so she stocks up on water and food inside her home before starting such a ritual.

While still young, Hera has been forcefully aged. She grew up as a normal, young, attractive dark haired girl at first. She was raised by her wealthy and somewhat noble father, her mother died while giving birth to her. Her six older brothers had little tints of spite for that, most of all her youngest sibling Velial. Hera was almost forced to be a tomboy, growing up in a house full of men, and never performing any traditional feminine duties. During court activities, local festivals, and other holidays, she was the fastest and strongest, among the most beautiful, but the least adored. Most men couldn't quite keep up with her, even those very few who felt an honest love for her. Things came to a dangerous crossroad when her 16th birthday came about.

Hera's mother was an advanced sorceress, gifted with her abilities by the god Balsameth. In an incredible irony, she fell in love with a Cleric of Hedrad and gave up her powers. Balsameth, who was somewhat scorned, still respected her "daughter's" choice, and left her with a curse that would only see its fulfillment in her death. Hera's mother, if she ever were to give birth to a daughter, would in inadvertant ways surrender that daughter to pick up the duties where the mother had abandoned them. Hera is, in turn, the answer to that curse, and with her mother's death, her destiny eventually came to be.

On her sixteenth birthday, during her courtship with a older knight of Corean named Cardor, her brother Velius attempted to become a kinslayer. Velius, with a simple steel dagger, intercepted Cardor's servant man and informed him of Hera's wish to see him. When the servant left, Velius killed Cardor, and passed the servant on his way to his sister's room. The servant, who instantly realized something, was afoul, retreated to the defense of the lady quickly enough to awaken her before her brother's treatchery. Hera, awakened with an unknown rage, and lashed out at her brother without fully knowing what had happened. Velius was beaten back without his sister muttering a single word or moving her arms. She only stepped forwards, knocking Velius to the ground with her slow steps. Hera, however, doesn't remember that night. All she can think about now is that she was able to escape death, and able to escape the trappings of being married to a strict man like Cordor.

Velius, however, did. And so does the servant. Velius was accused of murder, and sentenced to serve the Knights of Corean, who inducted Velus into a duty as a willing servant for 30 years. He has yet to resurface since his exit on the back of a wagon headed for Mithril.

It wasn't much longer before Hera fell for another man, this one only a single year and four days older than her. This man, however, was not nearly as noble as her fallen love Cardor. This man was a disreputable gang leader, but he had found Hera during her weakest moment and swept her into funding his venture to become a mercenary. His name was Bilban Terras. Bilban, who had always had many female counterparts, used Hera till her dowry, whatever it might have been, had ran completely dry. And with that, he attempted to rob her and her father during an expedition to the city of Hedrada. Once cornered by her own love, she attempted to defend her father who was capable enough to handle the thugs. She held up a knife, one made for religious rights performed by the church of Balsameth, and accused Bilban of wasting her small fortune on spirits and whores. One of Bilban's archers, taking a liking to his angle and surprise, took a shot with his lonbow at Hera. Her father, pushing her down to the ground, took the arrow expect it to be easily deflected by his shield held aloft. His fatal error became all too obvious when the arrow whizzed a little too low, right into the side of his chest... leaving him incapacitated with it's sleeping poison.

Hera, reacting as if her father had been killed, screamed at Bilban and his men, who had gathered closely together to inspect the wagons goods, ignoring the girl. She screamed with her body and mind, in a horribly shrill way, leaving the entire group stunned and painfully dazed. In her fury, Hera went up to Bilban and grabbed him by his collar while he clasped his ears, and she ran her dagger into his neck... then collapsed onto the ground. The cruel archer who had shot the father was also the one to carry Hera away from the raiders. He had felt the inkling to do what he did, and felt that he needed to make amends for it. Hera's father was tied up and ransomed to the current head of household, his eldest son. Later a group of hired mercenaries would purge the thieves hiding place in a small cavern in the hills nearby, and return the father to his family. Hera, with the archer whose name is Llewellyn awakened to find her captor.

Llewellyn thought a great deal of Hera, having admired her even when she was Bilban's tool, and now having an opportunity to be her savior he took the opportunity. Hera, who felt spite for the man that, to her, had murdered her father, left during the night after she had recovered her strength. She didn't quite make the journey back to her home before Llewellyn confronted her again. He had caught up to her, she having left a trail of observers in her wake. He tried, with all his diplomacy, to convince her that he had no desire to hurt her. She, in turn, told him that if he really cared even the slightest bit for her, he would gather up his belongings and help her return home.

A year later, Llewellyn left Hera mysteriously during the night. Hera, in an attempt to find out what had happened called upon a diviner two days later. This diviner, really a cultist of Balsameth in disguise, told Hera that she would not be able to pay for this information in gold. The price, as she said, would be her own devotion. Hera learned from this diviner, that in fact, Llewellyn was under the guide of lady Balsameth until just recently. The arrow that had rendered her father incapacitated and allowed her to display her powers was, in fact, an intentional blessing. Llewellyn's feelings for her were unexpected, but in fact, a side effect of the enchantments laid on him. Only recently he had overcame his own curse, and fled as far away from Hera, though he still retains feelings for her. The priestess told Hera, "You are the chosen of the lady Balsameth, and it is your responsibility to embrace the slaying of that which beckons death." Hera was not initially guilded into the words of the priestess, but she was overcame once again when she found that her own talents could be brought to a level that would match, if not surpass, her mother. And if she had that power, she would be granted a husband befitting her own grace and strength, whether it is Cordor, Bilban, Llewellyn, or another. It was also promised that if Hera continues to follow the path, she would recover her lost fortune granted by her father, and a fortune of her own. Even further yet, she would be granted the love of Balsameth, the Slayer, as a true daughter.

It was not nearly so concise, but after a period of self-inquisition, Hera felt that she had always been a part of the Slayer, and that she had always been one with her. She had been protected from her brother Velial, shielded from the arrow of Llewellyn, able to take revenge on the con-artist Bilbanes, and able to escape the trappings of Cordor's wedding band. Balsameth had been the guiding divinity that had protected her from everything that wrought danger in her past, even those things that Balsameth had created to train her. Hera accepted her charge.

Hera left her home, and acquired a small civil home to watch over herself. Now she waits for her next test, hoping to also begin to gain from her promise to the Slayer. To fulfill her mothers forsaken promise, and to serve her purpose as best she needs to. Hera looks to all who approach her as possible tests, and treats them as such, no longer trusting or even respectful to those whom speak with her. She waits, patiently, in her small home and the surrounding town, for someone who seems strong enough of character to help her advance to the point she's been waiting for.
 

Zasorthane, exiled of house Izridas Zigân
Lawful Evil Drow Hexblade 4
Hit Dice: 4d10+4 (37 hp)
Initiative: +3 (Dex)
Speed: 30 ft. (Light Load: 48.5 lb./58.0 lb.)
AC: 18 (+3 dex, +5 armor)
Full Attacks: +1 large adamantine greatsword +6 melee (3d6+4/19-20x2 slashing), masterwork alchemically silvered shortsword +7 melee (1d6+1/19-20x2 piercing)
Attacks: +1 large adamantine greatsword +6 melee (3d6+3/19-20x2 slashing), masterwork alchemically silvered shortsword +7 melee (1d6+1/18-20x2 piercing)
Racial Traits (ECL +2): Darkvision (120 ft.), drow racial traits, drow weapon proficiencies, elf sense, favored class (wizard), immunity to magic sleep effects, light blindness, spell-like abilities, spell resistance 15
Class Features: Arcane resistance, hexblade's curse 1/day, hexblade spells, light armor proficiency, martial weapon proficiency (all), mettle, simple weapon proficiency (all), summon familiar
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +4; +2 bonus vs. enchantment spells or effects, +7 bonus vs. all Spells and spell-like effects
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 19 (21)
Skills: Bluff +12 [7 ranks], Concentration +5 [4 ranks], Diplomacy +7 [2 ranks], Intimidate +7 [2 ranks], Knowledge (arcana) +4 [3 ranks], Spellcraft +4 [3 ranks]; +2 racial bonus on Listen, Search, and Spot checks, +2 Alertness bonus to Listen and Spot when familiar is within arms reach, +3 familiar bonus to Bluff when familiar is within 1 mile, +4 Combat Casting bonus to concentration checks made to cast a spell or use a spell-like ability while on the defensive or while grappling or pinned
Feats: [Combat Casting], Monkey Grip, Weapon Focus (Greatsword)
Languages: Common, Draconic, Elven, Underdark

Arcane Resistance (Su): The hexblade gains a bonus equal to his charisma bonus on saving throws against spells and spell-like effects.

Elf sense (Ex): An elf who merely passes within 5 feet of a secret or concealed door is entitled to a Search check to notice it as if she were actively looking for it.

Hexblade's Curse (Su): Once per day, as a free action, a hexblade can unleash a curse upon a foe. The target must be visible to the hexblade and within 60 feet. The target of a hexblade's curse takes a -2 penalty on attacks, saves, ability checks, skill checks, and weapon damage rolls for 1 hour thereafter. A successful Will save (DC 17) negates the effect.

Mettle: A hexblade can resist magical and unusual attacks with great willpower and fortitude. If he makes a successful will or fortitude save against an attack that normally would have a lesser effect on a successful save (such as any spell with a saving throw entry of Will half or Fortitude partial), he instead completely negates the effect. An unconscious or sleeping hexblade does not gain the benefit of mettle.

Spell-like abilities: Drow can use the following spell-like abilities once per day: dancing lights (DC 15), darkness (DC 17), faerie fire (DC 16). Caster level equals the drow’s class levels.

Familiar
Tiny Viper - HD: 1d8 (hp 14); Initiative: +3; Speed: 15 ft., climb 15 ft., swim 15 ft.; AC: 18 (+2 size, +3 dex, +3 natural), touch 15, flat-footed 14; Base Attack/Grapple: +0/-11; Attack: Bite +7 melee (1 plus poison); Full Attack: Bite +7 melee (1 plus poison); Space/Reach: 2-1/2 ft./0 ft.; Special Attacks: Poison; Special Qualities: Alertness, empathic link, improved evasion, scent, share spells; Saves: Fort +2, Reflex +5, Will +5; Abilities: Str 4, Dex 17, Con 11, Int 6, Wis 12, Cha 2;Skills: Balance +11, Bluff +3, Climb +11, Diplomacy -2, Intimidate -2, Hide +15, Listen +6, Spellcraft +4, Spot +6, Swim +5; Feats: Weapon finesse

Hexblade Spells (Caster Level 2)
1st (2/day) DC 16 - Expeditious Retreat, Undetectable Alignment

Equipment (12,837/13,000 gp)
+1 Chain shirt (1,250 gp) [25 lb.]
+1 Large adamantine greatsword (5,400 gp) [16 lb.]
Masterwork cold iron shortsword (320 gp) [2 lb.]
Masterwork hand Crossbow (250 gp) [2 lb.]
Alchemically silvered bolts x20 (42 gp) [2 lb.]
Flask of cure light wounds, 8 doses) (400 gp) [0.8 lb.]
Bull’s strength potion x2 (600 gp) [0.2 lb.]
Barkskin +2 potion (300 gp) [0.1 lb.]
Shield of faith +2 potion x3 (150 gp) [0.2 lb.]
Scroll of identify (125 gp) [0.1 lb.]
Cloak of charisma +2 (4,000 gp)
Snake familiar (100 gp)

Background (Out of Character)
The Complete Guide to the Drow said:
There have been tales whispered in dark taverns and late night inns of lone drow figures that stalk the surface of the world. Some of these tales tell of the lone dark figure on the road that offered assistance to those in trouble. Other stories tell of the renegade murderer, kept away from his underground home. No matter what the tail told, they are always told with an aura of fear and mystery.

Drow that walk the surface world are normally renegades that have renounced their ancestral homes for a chance at a new life. Sometimes that is as a champion of law and justice, but it is more likely as a lone killer for hire that stalks the humans and elves of the surface.

Male drow are the most likely candidates for the life of an adventuring loner. In a female-dominated society, there are few places for a lone drow male to call home. Some males are left on the surface after raids, either as punishment for a minor infraction or left for dead by the rest of the raiding party. There is a chance that this character is hunted by either his former family or by associates that he has left behind.

Zasorthane,is the exiled of house Izridas Zigân, former body guard to a younger sister of house Izridas Zigân. During a raid, Zasorthane’s fate was abandonment on surface after a crossbow bolt nicked the priestess Zasorthane was duty bound to protect. The bolt intended to hit the drow bodyguard’s heart, and when Zasorthane moved to avoid it, the projectile continued through the air to split the skin along left shoulder of the priestess. Another lieutenant watched this incident, and reported it to his superiors to undermine the bodyguard. Zasorthane tried to refute this effort, but was unable to convince his superiors that he was innocent of any intentional selfishness and dereliction of duty. He is never to return to the underdark, or face the peril a more painful punishment.

The young drow priestess injured during this confrontation fled her home to chase after Zasorthane many months later. She met her end at the blades of a group of bandits on the surface. Of course, having been blamed for her supposed death, Zasorthane is being pursued by a number of house mercenaries, including the man who first pointed out Zasorthane's infraction, though his pursuit has something far more personal to it. Only recently, he discovered the priestess death.

This accursed kin of the dark elves wears clothing such that his face, ears, and skin is not visible normally, and tries to conceal his origin at all costs through deceit. He wears chain shirt with this clothing, and bears a cloth-sheathed large great sword on his back as his primary weapon. Zasorthane is slowly drifting towards neutral and good, as he has progressed in his adventures, but still uses the guise of his Undetectable Alignment spell every day to conceal his corrupted past and present. He is looking for some way out, away from his enemies. This search makes him willing to break his belief in the birthright of the Drow, and now Zasorthane makes allies with humans and surface elves freely, looking for a way to change his identity and escape his pursuers. Zasorthane has become desperate, as his pursuers are becoming more and more diligent.
 

The Mauler
Male Ogre Fighter 2/Barbarian 1
Hit Dice: 4d8+2d10+1d12+28 (68 hp)
Initiative: +1 (dex)
Speed: 50 ft.
Armor Class: 16 (–1 size, +1 Dex, +5 natural, +3 armor - 2 penalty)
Attack: Huge masterwork warmace +16 melee (4d6+8 bludgeoning primary and 4d6+4 bludgeoning secondary)
Full Attack: Huge masterwork warmace +12/+7 melee (4d6+8 bludgeoning primary) and huge masterwork warmace +12 melee (4d6+4 bludgeoning off-hand)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./10 ft.
Class Features: Rage 1/day
Special Qualities: Darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision
Saves: Fort +13, Ref +2, Will -1
Abilities: Str 26, Dex 12, Con 18, Int 8, Wis 6, Cha 5
Skills: Climb +10, Listen +3, Spot +2
Feats: Exotic weapon proficiency (warmace), monkey grip, power attack, two-weapon fighting, weapon focus (warmace)
Challenge Rating: 5

Equipment 4,375
Huge Masterwork Warmaces x2 (800 gp)
Masterwork studded leather (175 gp)
Ring of sustenance (2500 gp)
Potion of Bull's Strength x3 (900 gp)

The mauler is a rarity among all ogres. The Mauler is a mercenary ogre with a reputation for crushing anything in his path. Capable of smashing buildings and foes alike, this man-eater is not to be taken lightly. He works for two things, food and drink. He typically takes this in the form of cattle, slaves, or children if applicable. His tribe has exiled him for just such an act, having eaten his own children.

Combat: Typically during an encounter, the Mauler will rage and drink a potion of bull's strength before engaging his opposition, granting him a huge addition to his damage dealing capacity and resiliance. His front line fighting abilities are unquestionable, and the fact that he can outpace almost any human and many mounts makes him a major threat to anyone around him. He will power attack with his full base attack bonus of 7 unless his enemies prove capable of resisting his massive strength. His weakness is his frail mind that is easily manipulated and controlled.
 
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