Sabastian Raze -- Male Human Factotum 20
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Sabastian Raze: Male Human Factotum 20
CR 20;
Chaotic Good-ish Medium Humanoid;
HD 20d8+70,
Bloodline Skill
HP 242 (182 w/o Amulet);
Init +5;
Spd 40'.;
AC 38,
Touch 28,
Flat-Footed 33
Base Atk +15/+10/+5;
Grp +20
Melee +5 Adamantine Defending Shortsword of Wounding +25/+20/+15 (1d6+10/19-20 x2) or
Melee +5 Adamantine Defending Shortsword of Wounding +21/+16/+11 (1d6+10/19-20 x2) Non-Lethal
Abilities Str 20 (+5), Dex 20 (+5), Con 20 (+5), Int 30 (+10), Wis 17 (+3), Cha 16 (+3)
Saves Fort +16, Ref +22, Will +14
Skills Balance +28, Bluff +20. Climb +26, Decipher Script +15, Diplomancy +24, Disable Device +35, Disguise +15, Escape Artist +31, Gather Information +15, Hide +34, Intimidate +20, Jump +39, Knowledge (Arcana) +15, Knowledge (Architecture) +15, Knowledge (Local) +15, Knowledge (Nobility) +15, Knowledge (Religion) +15, Knowledge (The Planes) +15, Move Silently +34, Open Lock +30, Perform (Act) +13, Search +30, Sense Motive +8, Sleight of Hand +26, Speak Language +5, Spellcraft +17, Tumble +28, Use Magic Device +23
Feats Acrobatic, Agile, Combat Expertise, Combat Panache, Improved Toughness, Nimble Fingers, Skill Focus (Disable Device), Tactile Trapsmith
Languages Common, Elven, Dwarven, Gnome, Orc, Undercommon, Celestial, Infernal, Ignan
Class Abilities Arcane Dilettante (8 Spells), Brains Over Brawn, Cunning Breach, Cunning Brilliance, Cunning Defense, Cunning Dodge, Cunning Insight, Cunning Knowledge, Cunning Strike, Cunning Surge, Improved Cunning Defense, Inspiration (10 [5]/Encounter), Opportunistic Piety (9/Day), Trapfinding
Factotum Spells Known (Cast 1/1/1/1/1/1/1/1 Per Day, Save DC 20 + Spell Level, Caster Level 20): All 0th -- 7th Sorcerer/Wizard Spells sans Experience Costs
0th: Mage Hand
1st: True Strike
2nd: Blindness/Deafness
3rd: Hold Person
4th: Bestow Curse
5th: Feeblemind --
Expended
6th: Disintegrate - -
Expended
7th: Prismatic Spray
Possessions Tome of Clear Thought +4 [Used], Tome of Understanding +4 [Used], Gloves of Dexterity +6, Belt of Giant's Strength +6, Amulet of Health +6, Headband of Intellect +6, Boots of Striding & Springing, Goggles of Minute Seeing, Mantle of Epic Spell Resistance, Armbands of Might, Heward's Fortifying Bedroll, Metamagic Rod of Silent, Spool of Endless Rope, +5 Vest of the Resistance, +5 Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion, +5 Adamantine Defending Shortsword of Wounding, Ring of Feather Falling, +3 Ring of Protection, +5 Vest of Resistance, Field Provisions Box, Rod of Splendor, Wand of Cure Critical Wounds [50 Charges], Wand of Magic Missile 9th [50 Charges], Everburning Torch, Masterwork Thieves' Tools, Spell Component Pouch, Wooden Holy Symbol x19, Grappling Hook, Waterskin, Chalk x10, Vial of Ink, Boot Blade, Flint & Steel, Inkpen, Crowbar, Belt Pouch x2, Infinite Scrollcase, Arcane Scroll of Overland Flight x2, Arcane Scroll of Chain Lightning x2, Arcane, Arcane Scroll of Guards & Wards, Arcane Scroll of Baleful Polymorph, Divine Scroll of Break Enchantment, Divine Scroll of Find the Path, Divine Scroll of Wall of Stone, Arcane Scroll of Disguise Self x2, Arcane Scroll of Invisibility, Arcane Scroll of Flesh to Stone, Pouch w/ 1987.8gp
[sblock=Background (Abridged)]Heroes come from all walks of life: the young blacksmith's apprentice turned swordsman, the timid herder girl who chose to take up the bow, or even the charismatic bard who assumed the mantle of diplomatic swashbuckler. Heroes, you see, are tempered and forged in the fires of circumstance, their lives reshaped from the mundane into something extraordinary. The reasons behind this phenomenom are as varied as the individuals themselves, ranging from boredom, a sense of adventure, or some sort of cause or philosophy. Such is the multi-colored mantle of adventurism, covered in its many hues and shades that serve to differentiate each and every one as a unique individual of varying skill and quality. Such is history, and such is the future so long as individuality and a unique contenance towards such endeavors exist, expanding the ever-growing repertoire of stories and sagas for eons to come.
Such is the story of Sabastian Raze, a man destined for far more than the tedious existence of most mortals in the Multiverse.
Like many would-be heroes, Sabastian Foffawitz came from humble beginnings. He grew up amongst his occupational kinsmen from a moderately sized traveling circus, his parents keen members of the acrobatic portion of the show. Being the curious lad he was, young Sabastian took an avid interest in all things entertaining, and indeed he was quite the natural. He learned from the most esoteric adventurers, you see; clowns and sword-swallowers, master escapists and magically-aided illusionists, and of course from his mother and father the art of acrobatics and tumbling. One might say he was a chip off the old block, but unbeknownst to anyone save for the gods themselves and the most astute mystics and prophets, something special resided within the young boy -- a spark of something greater than his own sharp intellect and adaptability.
As he grew, so too did his skill amongst his carnie companions. It only stands to reason that his talents saw use, as it would have been a shame to let them wither from disuse. From minor prestidigitizer to high-flying trapeze work, Sabastian was as nimble, acrobatic, and shrewd as any member of his trope, coupled with a sub-par though cleverly utilized array of minor magics, making the young man more talented in a broad sense than most his age. Like most young men, however, even Sabastian yearned for a life with more purpose; to break away and seek his own fortune, visiting exotic locales and meeting interesting individuals. The boy just couldn't bring himself to break it to his friends and family though, and thus remained silent about his dreams.
One day, though, fortune smiled on the youngest Foffawitz, albeit in an odd manner. You see, orcs are very excitable and easily irritable creatures. When the rolling caravan's jovial festivities disturbed them in their natural, brutish habitat, the scornful creatures took up arms against the tapered tents and carriages. While the meandering performers did their best to protect their cloth and wooden homes, the flammable substances were no match for torches and flaming arrows. Though the boy's family was left unscathed, their homes were reduced to nothing but burning embers in the night sky. While others mourned the loss of their beloved possessions, young Sabastian saw opportunity. With his home gone, there was no further reason for him to stay amongst them, and so he bid them all a fond farewell before departing southward in pursuit of his own dreams.
In the bustling hub of Restenford, Sabastian Foffawitz -- now calling himself Sabastian Raze purely on the grounds that, to be quite frank, Foffawitz is an outrageously silly name -- found life outside of the tarp-laiden big-tops much to his liking. While the circus did much traveling in its own right, Sabastian did little of such on his own, nor within the towns and villages they often parked on the outskirts of. Suffice it to say the vigorous young man was fascinated with all things mundane, ranging from the simple tavern bards and wenches of the fairer sex to the gruff smiths and tactful merchants that lined Merchants' Row. His days were mostly spent exploring the nooks and crannies of the vibrant village, eager to meet new people and exchange ideas and hold conversations with them.
Like a child with a toy, Sabastian soon grew weary of these sole pursuits. While the denizens of the city were certainly interesting and lively, there was that certain element of danger he'd begun to miss from his life amongst his family. Fate again took it upon itself to intervene, dropping Sabastian's idlest whim into his lap with all due brazenness. On a warm summer's night, Sabastian was making his nightly trip to the Promiscuous Pixie, a small inn and tavern near the western gates when he was waylaid by a thief clad in darkest attire. He was course, sloppy, and undisciplined, and although the scoundrelous rogue was armed with a sword in hand, Sabastian's intellect and cleverness would be the thief's own downfall. Relinquishing his coin purse willingly, the ever-so-subtle ex-performer's deft hands liberated the brigand's own in turn. Sure, the thief's purse was just a tad lighter, but all in all Sabastian felt he'd broken even -- the coins plus the shattered pride once the vagrant discovered it was missing was satisfaction enough, a small victory for victims past.
Irony, however, held more in store for the young adventurer-to-be.
Sabastian's gloating over his victory at the local tavern didn't take long to reach the ears of the local constables that evening, and before anyone knew what had happened, the entire building had gone silent as the local law made their presence known, dragging Sabastian out into the warm night once more for questioning. As chance would have it, the minted coins and the accompanying satchel they came in were stolen themselves from a wealthy half-elven nobleman of significant importance amongst the citizens. At that point, the long arm of Restenford's City Watch felt that they had caught the would-be burglar, demanding that the young red-head surrender peacably despite Sabastian's plea to hear him out. Unarmed, out numbered, and clearly no match for the half-dozen armed men on his own, young Raze did the only logical thing: he ran.
Even Sabastian, with his odd-ball array of physical skills and mish-mash of magical abilities and pure wit and skill, couldn't elude the City Watch forever. Eventually, he was cornered in the local brothel, his only options being to surrender or attempt a four-story leap. Logically, he surrendered. Incarcerated for crimes uncommitted in the bowels of the Restenford Jail, Sabastian's life was in dire jeapordy of meeting a particularly violent end by means of hanging or guillotine. Sure, he could have escaped, but with the numerous guards patrolling the above floors, his likelyhood of getting out of the establishment were slim to none.
For four days the innocent young man toiled in the dungeon. Day in and day out, the captain of the guard constantly demanded a confession from the fire-maned boy, receiving naught in return. So adamant and shortsighted were they, in fact, that even after the use of a Zone of Truth spell loosed his lips did they consider him a liar who had thwarted the divination. Promises of execution were soon echoed, and a date set within the year to see it done.
Thankfully, other individuals had taken an interest in Sabastian's affairs. With little in the way of queries made, a small escort of men and women clad in black served as the case of escapism Sabastian needed, leading the ill-kept accusee through a secret passage into the sewers of Restenford. Whisked away from his immenent doom, Sabastian's misrepresentation as a thief was all that saved him from death as he was brought before an aged, blind dwarf by the name of Errol. Numerous rumors floated about town of "Eyeless Errol," and it was now that Sabastian discovered that some of them were true. Impressed by the lads canny handiwork in regards to pilfering one of his own men, Errol supplied an invitation to join the ranks of his "legetimate business venture." Granted, it was either death or acceptance, so there really wasn't much choice in the matter. Besides, anything was better than sitting in a cell and awaiting execution.
Raze's unfettered applications in the art of liberating monetary property was well-placed in the service of Errol and his guild of thieves. Passing the Gauntlet with relative ease, Sabastian soon become one of the most prized Hoods amongst the small organization. Whether it be second-story work, pick-pocketry, or simply the disarmament of traps, Sabastian boasted a canny knack for the thievery trade. No lock was a garuntee, no trap of any use against Raze, striking fear in the most wealthy and prominant of Restenford's noble citizenry under the pseuodonym of "The Blink Dog." His handiwork netted himself a fine payroll, as well as the covetted guild-title of Bravo. As a means of his exceptional talents, many of the very nobles Sabastian pilfered from quickly purchased monthly security services through Errol and his Thieves' Guild, keeping the flow of money strong and steady into everyones pockets. His position and freedom secured, Sabastian's need for excitement had been sated, leaving him time to pursue other venues.
In his authoritarian position, Sabastian found a like-minded individual with which he himself shared many traits with. She was a young, ambitious, and lovely human; a roguish dame by even the most broadest sense of identification, who much like Sabastian plyed her tradeskills as an operative of the same organization as himself. Indeed, so akin were the two that they quickly became infatuated with one another, a romantic relationship blossoming into a pure and wholesome variety of love. Indeed, so in love was the young couple that they had proposed the prospect of marriage. Sadly, the relationship was bound to go sour.
The main quandry criminal organizations suffer from is that of political power amongst their own. The up-and-comers always want a piece of the big dogs, or those who felt they should have been promoted in lieu of another often take out bitter grudges against their newfound rivals. The latter happened to be the case for poor Sabastian, a man in a position of comfort and relative stability. When he was promoted by Errol, however, there was one who thought for sure he'd be appointed to the same rank by the name of Haskan Newfell, a halfling with anger issues and a bone to pick with Sabastian. It bears mentioning that the two never particularly got along well, and so when Haskan saw his opportunity to seize Raze's place as a Bravo, he took advantage of it. Hiring a mook-squad of footpads to rough Sabastian up was just a front; it was easy to convince the new blood of the thieves' guild to fight to death, and like a dope, Sabastian fell right into the ploy. In self-defense -- and for the first time -- he was forced to kill, and in so doing was branded a traitor by the definition therein of the guild charter. A double death sentence now placed on his head by the City Guard and the Restenford Thieves' Guild, the weary and wounded factotum threw himself upon the mercy of Errol, infiltrating his own private sanctum purely to make his voice heard. Unfortunately, it was nothing but business in Errol's eyes, and the guild's law had to be enforced... besides, one less mouth to feed means more coins in the bucket for the rest of the brigands. Even his lover agreed, her career more important in her eyes than her relationship with Sabastian. His gambit an utter failure, Sabastian Raze shed his mortal coil that evening at the hands of a dozen cutthroats, all in a bid for power by one sociopathic halfling.
Death is an interesting experience, though no one can really comment on it. That whole "being dead" thing tends to get in the way of that. Indeed, it's also highly subjective to each individual to determine the ultimate validity of their surroundings. Indeed, the afterlife is a general mystery to most uneducated scholars, of which Sabastian most assuredly was.
When he came to, Sabastian -- in a state of delusion and confusion as to where, exactly, he was -- awoke in a warm bed, a fireplace idly burning cleanly-hewn logs to keep the lodging pleasantly sustainable. Outside, the view of rugged and nigh-dystopian landscapes rise and fall in the distance, with mottled buildings coated in a new layer of snow more near and detailable. Frankly, if this was the locale of his final resting place, Sabastian felt sure he'd totally been shafted on the deal. Indeed, this point was well illustrated by the fact that as soon as Sabastian shambled from his abode that he was beset by barbarians and mercenaries alike, gobs of armaments thrust into his unexpected hands with gusto. Such as the way things are on the Outer Plane of Ysgard.
There are only two types of folks in Ysgard; those being the Fighting and the Fallen. Consisting mostly of brutes, savages, and men-at-arms constantly killing one another, Sabastian found great pleasure in the irony of his own demise; dying was bad enough, but now he was forced to do so on a regular basis. A cruel twist of fate would be putting it mildly, really, especially considering that prior to his own death, the only men he'd openly killed were those sent by Haskan. Such is un-life though, and it was an all too apparent sign that the gods have a sense of humor.
You learn quick on the battlefields of Ysgard, lest you become fodder for the warriors with centuries of experience under their belts. Sabastian was no exception, having been taken in after his loss of life on the Material Plane by a motley conglomoration of barbarians, sell-swords, violent warriors of often dubious nature. With all of eternity to sit and twiddle your thumbs, you tend to learn bits and pieces of various things from the odd assortment of assembled petitioners -- tactics, languages, those sort of things. Indeed, while Sabastian lacked the martial prefectures of his newfound elders, he was still fairly handy with a weapon. His forte', if you will, lied as that of a strategist and logistics expert. If it weren't for his devilishly cunning schemes, the slew of beings held together as a fighting force would have been dead and dead again in lieu of basking in the warmth of a victorious camp fire reveling in wine, wenches, and the spoils of battle.
Time prattled on, as it usually does. For an undeterminable amount of time, Raze was left to do naught but fight, revel, then fight some more, Ysgard's constantly beleaguering battles of "entertainment" soon became second-nature and less than amusing for the dead scoundrel. The sheer monotony of the affair had been the cause of its stagnation, leaving Sabastian with more free time than he would have otherwise liked. Sure, it gave him time to make peace with his past and move on, but afterwards ther really wasn't anything else to do. Unable to leave Ysgard, of course, presented numerous problems involving fresh entertainment.
On a particularly humid summer's day, Sabastian received a rather surprised visit in the form of outsiders. As bored as he was, he was quick to initiate conversation with the leader of the half-dozen others with him, a half-elf by the name of Witley garbed in illustriously colored garments reminiscent of something between a performer and a scholar. The two struck up a quick acquaintance with one another, the group of planar explorers invited to stay the night at the ramshackle tent-laiden town that Sabastian and his men had been protecting ever since he first arrived, a lengthy amount of time that seemed like forever. Intrigued by how they had arrived, Sabastian's inquiries were soon answered as Witley explained the nature of his visit and of his organization: the Society of Sensation. Their trek to Ysgard was one made for the benefit of its newest members, looking to expand their repertoire of sensations of wonderment between the sounds of a thunderous battle, the scent of sweat and decay, so on and so forth, and that they had traversed the Multiverse from Sigil by means of a Planar Portal. Frankly, the explination left Sabastian a bit flabergasted. He'd never even considered the prospect of being able to leave, under the assumption that he simply couldn't. His lore of the Planes, obviously, was rather lacking.
Newfound information gained, Raze's next inquiry was a simple one: how to return to the Material Plane. He again found the answer he sought, another portal being his ticket home. The catch, of course, is that it's rather tough to get back if you're dead there, and the only way that problem could be solved is to be re-incarnated... presuming, of course, one could find his body to do so. The Planes are tricky business, it would seem. With his ability to leave pre-facto of insanity, Sabastian took his leave of the droll realm of Ysgard after he -- along with the remaining Sensates, of course -- delved the lower realms thereof. To Sigil they went, Witley making vague promises to see what he could do for his newfound compatriot.
Sigil was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It was a city, to be sure, but so odd and different that it might as well be a bleak fantasy painted in vibrant watercolors. Races of all shapes and sizes walked the streets as if they were natives to this quasi-pocket dimension, while attendants of the local Factions preached here and there of their philosophical outlook, looking to recruit fresh blood into their ranks. Being the intelligent fellow he was, Sabastian took the high-road and simply followed along with Whitley and his crew, more confused and out-of-place than a half-orc barbarian in a forum. Together they journeyed across Sigil until they arrived at the Civic Festhall, wherein the local guildhouse resided.
As stunning as it was inside as it was out, the crew of adventuring would-be's strode their way inward to the central chambers. A man of his word, Witley asked the Sensate Factol for assistance in resuscitating Sabastian, returning him from beyond the grave. An odd request to be sure, considering the lot had only known each other for a few weeks -- or the equivalent thereof, since time seems rather subjective when you're dead. It was an interesting proposition, at least from where the Factol was sitting. Idly agreeing to assist Sabastian in this endeavor, the Factol first proposed that the boy had to prove himself first and attain membership into the Sensates. The task was a simple one: fetch some items from particular planes, and in exchange a resurrection would be had, the location of Sabastian's cold, skeletal corpse to be located whilst he was out and about collecting the items in question. With little in the way of an alternative, Raze agreed to these terms and wasted no time in the act of procuring them after divulging the whereabouts of the nearest portal and the key to activate it.
As daunting as the task was, Sabastian remained adamant in securing a new lease on mortal life. Really, it sounded simple: a bottle of air from the Elemental Plane of Air, a satchel full of gravel from the Elemental Plane of Earth, a vial of fresh water from the Elemental Plane of Water, and a pouch of soot from the Elemental Plane of Fire. Simple, really, sans that whole pain and death nonsense. To make an excessively long story short, however, suffice it to say that Sabastian's endeavors were successful (with help, of course), albeit having been "killed" on numerous occasions due to the inhospitable locations in question and sent back to square one in Ysgard.
With the required possessions in tow, Sabastian returned once more to the City of Doors to reap his rewards, as were promised by the Factol several months (or thereabouts, anyway) prior. The accord nearly complete, Sabastian forked over the items in question, regailing the Factol with what he'd seen and heard, the harshness of the Planes, and the trials and tribulations of the Inner and Outer Planes therein. Satisfied with all that the quasi-dead humanoid had done, the Sensate Factol appointed young Raze as an honorary member of the Society of Sensation, then sent forth her appointed acolyte to perform the neccessary deed, Sabastian's corpse having already been dug out from Restenford ahead of time and (what little there was left) preserved for reincarnation.
It felt alien being back on the Material Plane, the time spent as a displaced spirit seeming like eternity, or a dream one might never wake from. Regardless, it was here and now that Sabastian was -- in a since -- back from the dead, surprisingly more vigorous than he last recalled, though that was some time ago. With a wistful thanks garnered towards Whitley, both his savior and friend, the two parted ways: Sabastian towards the nearest civilization not looking to skin him alive, and Whitley back to where he belonged amongst the patronage of his Factol.
Glad to be back amongst the living, Sabastian travelled the realm for a bit before regrouping with his family amongst the same tents and caravans he'd originally left home from. Joyous reunions were had, and Sabastian entertained his bizarre family of his travels and life outside of the Prime Material. It was during this reunion that Sabastian discovered just how long he'd been gone, the span of a decade come and gone since his fettered demise at the hands of Haskan and his goons back in Restenford. Indeed, he'd missed out on much, including the birth of his little brother, Michael, now age eight, and the passing of one of his own beloved mentors; Zak'Shal, Arcanist Supreme. But this was neither here nor there for the moment, Sabastian content with simply being home.
For a time, things were peaceful. Sabastian soon returned to the center stage, performing as a part of the Flying Foffawitz's once more. Days turned to weeks, and weeks unto months as the circus roamed across the continent, never staying in one place for too long before moving along to the next show. One would think after being killed once and having suffered through all the troubles therein, you'd never consider taking up the call to adventure again. Sabastian thought so, at any rate, but as time dredged on, he soon found himself missing the excitement and the thirll of the unexpected and unique. At first, Raze disregarded this clearly stupid idea, well aware of what might happen again. But like a glutton, Sabastian couldn't quite kick the urge to pick up where he'd left off. Unable to thwart the growing urges in the pit of his stomach, Sabastian instead attempted to rationalize the feelings; coming to the unsound conclusion that he felt as though he needed to exact revenge for his death a decade prior.
Scheming and plotting, Sabastian quickly came to terms with what he had to do to "settle the score," despite the fact he was sane enough to realize he didn't really care. After some convincing to procure the services of some of his closer circus acquaintances, Sabastian's plan came to fruition a few weeks later. After setting out on his own with an empty caravan, some subtle wordplay to recruit some locale ruffians in Restenford, and the procuration of a wizard who'd been slighted by the Thieves' Guild for arcane services, Raze -- again assuming the pseudonym of the Blink Dog to add insult to injury -- looted every last copper and trinket from the guild vaults, pilfering the guild coffers clean too for good measure before riding off into the sunset. There was just something rewarding about the dengerous lifestyle of an adventurer that Sabastian couldn't give up, and with his rationalization sated, the only other alternative was to outright admit adventuring -- consequences be damned! -- was just his niche' in life.
After eluding the presence of Errol's hit-squad, Sabastian pawned everything he didn't keep himself at the farthest town along the western shoreline. With his newfound fortune, he squandered it on preparations and equipment, adamant to continue his adventuring career despite the tell-tale risks. From plundering tombs, diplomatic resolutions, and swords-for-hire, Sabastian enlisted himself with whichever adventuring parties tickled his fancy over the years, no challenge too tough to tackle.
It was during this time that Sabastian met Chevik and Arineil, fellow adventurers of varying purposes in regards to their careers. Having struck a prosperous venture, Chevik -- leader of the group of would-be heroes and heroines -- enlisted the aid of Sabastian, serving as the fourth and final addition to the roster as trap-springer and Jack-of-All-Trades.[/sblock]
[sblock=Personality]Fun-loving, light-hearted, witty, and clever, Sabastian strives to be the life of the party in even the most grim of situations. While perhaps a bit over-confident and arrogant, he nevertheless remains a steadfast, open-minded, and honest member of society, easily intrigued by the latest fad or interesting gossip.
If an antic isn't over-the-top, then this particularly flair-inclined rogue feels as if the act was ill-performed. More flash than substenance, one might say, is Sabastian's personal calling card.
His easy-going demeanor often leaves little to the imagination as to how intelligent this simplistic ex-circus performer really is. While he doesn't particularly have a degree in a field of study or collegial credits to back up his intellectual fortitude, he nevertheless harbors an adaptive mind, and learns quickly, giving him the illusion that he's studied abroad on more than one occassion.[/sblock]
[sblock=Description]Of only moderate height, Sabastian stands as an odd pinacle of misconstrued ordinaryism. With lightly parted hair the shade of a newly lit hearth and compelling eyes of celadon, this young adventurer extrordinaire sports an odd combination of uniqueness and contemporary features to simulate a strange sense of attractiveness.
When not adventuring, Sabastian favors flamboyant, stylish attire, though not overly complex. Fine silk garments or stylish vestments of red, black, or blue in tandem with simple yet appealing breeches and footwear. Adventurewear, on the other hand, leans more towards practicallity: short-sleeved tunics, light-fitting garments, and heavy-soled shoes for long marches, as well as a slew of equipment of various types to see him through to the next sunrise.[/sblock]
[sblock=Mechanical Breakdown][sblock=Ability Scores]Original Array: STR 14, DEX 14, CON 14, INT 16, WIS 12, CHA 12
Level 4: +1 INT
Level 8: +1 INT
Level 12: +1 INT
Level 16: +1 INT
Level 20: +1 WIS
Tome of Clear Thought +4: +4 INT
Tome of Understanding +4: +4 WIS
Headband of Intellect +6: +6 INT
Belt of Giant's Strength +6: +6 STR
Amulet of Health +6: +6 CON
Gloves of Dexterity +6: +6 DEX
Rod of Splendor: +4 CHA
Attribute Totals: STR 20, DEX 20, CON 20, INT 30, WIS 17, CHA 16
At Level 24: +1 INT
At Level 28: +1 WIS[/sblock]
[sblock=Equipment Breakdown]Tome of Clear Thought +4 (110,000gp)
Tome of Understanding +4 (110,000gp)
Gloves of Dexterity +6 (36,000gp)
Belt of Giant's Strength +6 (36,000gp)
Amulet of Health +6 (36,000gp)
Headband of Intellect +6 (36,000gp)
Boots of Striding & Springing (5500gp)
Goggles of Minute Seeing (1250gp)
Mantle of Epic Spell Resistance (290,000gp)
Armbands of Might (2050gp + 51xp)
Heward's Fortifying Bedroll (1500gp + 120xp)
Spool of Endless Rope (1000gp + 25xp)
+5 Vest of Resistance (12500gp + 312xp)
+5 Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion (76,700gp)
+5 Adamantine Defending Shortsword of Wounding (131,110gp)
Ring of Feather Falling (2200gp)
+3 Ring of Protection (18,000gp)
Field Provisions Box (1000gp + 25xp)
Rod of Splendor (25,000gp)
Metamagic Rod of Silent (11,000gp)
Wand of Cure Critical Wounds (21,000gp)
Wand of Magic Missile 9th (6750gp)
Everburning Torch (110gp)
Masterwork Thieves' Tools (100gp)
Spell Component Pouch (5gp)
Wooden Holy Symbol x19 (19gp)
Grappling Hook (1gp)
Chalk x10 (1sp)
Vial of Ink (8gp)
Boot Blade (4gp)
Flint & Steel (1gp)
Waterskin (1gp)
Inkpen (1sp)
Crowbar (2gp)
Belt Pouch x2 (2gp)
Infinite Scrollcase (1400gp + 35xp)
Arcane Scroll of Overland Flight x2 (2250gp)
Arcane Scroll of Chain Lightning x2 (3300gp)
Arcane Scroll of Guards & Wards (1650gp)
Arcane Scroll of Baleful Polymorph (1125gp)
Divine Scroll of Break Enchantment (700gp)
Divine Scroll of Find the Path (1650gp)
Divine Scroll of Wall of Stone (1125gp)
Arcane Scroll of Disguise Self x2 (50gp)
Arcane Scroll of Invisibility (300gp)
Arcane Scroll of Flesh to Stone (1650gp)
Total Gold Spent: 998012.2gp
Total Gold Left: 1987.8gp[/sblock]
[sblock=Crafting Breakdown]
*Infinite Scrollcase (Magic Item Compendium) -- 1400gp + 35xp + Crafted by Chevik
*Heward's Fortifying Bedroll (Complete Mage) -- 1500gp + 120xp + Crafted by Chevik
*Field Provisions Box (Magic Item Compendium) -- 1000gp + 25xp + Crafted by Chevik
*Armbands of Might (Complete Adventurer) -- 2050gp + 51xp + Crafted by Chevik
*Spool of Endless Rope (Complete Adventurer) -- 1000gp + 25xp + Crafted by Chevik
*+5 Vest of Resistance (Complete Arcane) -- 12500gp + 312xp + Crafted by Chevik
XP Spent: 568xp
XP Unspent: 9432xp
^Infinite Scrollcase: An infinite scrollcase holds up to fifty scrolls or other parchments, which can be placed within it or removed as with any normal scrollcase. When you activate an infinite scrollcase, the desired scroll unfurls through the slit, ready to read or cast from. When you cast a spell from a scroll unfurled from an infinite scrollcase, you gain a +4 competence bonus on Concentration checks made to cast that spell defensively. If you have at least a +1 base attack bonus, you can retrieve a scroll from an infinite scrollcase as part of a move action, similar to drawing a weapon.
Prerequisites:
Craft Wondrous Item,
Leomund's secret chest.
Cost to Create:
1,400 gp, 112 XP, 3 days.
^Field Provisions Box: When activated, a field provisions box produces a full day's sustenance (food and water) for up to fifteen humans or five horses. A field provisions box functions once per day.
Prerequisites: Craft Wondrous Item,
create food and water.
Cost to Create: 1,000 gp, 40 XP, 2 days.
^Heward's Fortifying Bedroll: Heward's fortifying bedroll grants you the benefits of a full 8 hours of rest—including the elimination of fatigue or exhaustion, natural healing, and the ability to prepare or ready arcane spells—
over the course of a single hour. Spells cast within the last 8 hours still count against your daily limit as normal. After using Reward's fortifying bedroll, you can't gain the same benefit again (either from the same or a different item) until 48 hours have passed.
Construction:
Craft Wondrous Item, sleep, 1,500 gp, 120
XP, 3 days.
Weight: 2
lb.
^Armbands of Might: These bronze armbands grant their wearer a +2 bonus on Strength checks and Strengthbased skill checks. If the wearer has the Power Attack feat, he gains a +2 bonus on melee damage rolls on any attack on which he uses the Power Attack feat and takes a penalty of at least –2 on his attack roll. Armbands occupy the same space on the body as a pair of bracers or bracelets.
Faint transmutation; CL 3rd; Craft Wondrous Item,
bull’s strength
; Price 4,100 gp
^Spool of Endless Rope: Some adventurers never seem to have enough rope. A spool of endless rope contains an unlimited amount of the fi nest silk rope, yet the whole spool weighs only a single pound. The spool comes with a belt loop so that it can be hung conveniently at an adventurer’s side. To use a spool of endless rope, the owner feeds out as little or as much rope as desired, up to a maximum of 500 feet
at any one time. When fi nished with the rope, the owner can simply wind it back onto the spool. (Feeding out or rewinding requires 1 round per 50 feet of rope.)
The rope can’t be entirely separated from the spool, though it can be cut or broken as a normal silk rope can be. Any portion of rope cut away from the spool disappears instantly, but the spool immediately replenishes the missing rope.
The rope from a spool of endless rope can be spliced or knotted together with another rope (including a rope from a second spool of endless rope), but the rope can’t be wound back into the spool while so attached.
Moderate conjuration; CL 9th; Craft Wondrous Item,
Leomund’s secret chest
; Price 2,000 gp; Weight 1 lb.
^Quoted Directly from Source
[/sblock]
[sblock=Skills, Equipment, & Class Synergy Bonuses]
S. Points at 1st Level: (6 + 3 INT)*4 + 4 Human = 40
S. Points from 2nd - 7th Level: (6 + 3 INT + 1 Human)*7 = 70
S. Points from 8th - 15th Level: (6 + 4 INT + 1 Human)*8 = 88
S. Points from 16th - 20th Level: (6 + 5 INT + 1 Human)*5 = 60
Total Skill Points: 258 Skill Points
+2 Diplomacy (Bluff 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Disguise w/ Acting In-Character (Bluff 5+ Ranks)
+2 Intimidate (Bluff 5+ Ranks)
+2 Sleight of Hand (Bluff 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Use Magic Device w/ Scrolls (Decipher Script 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Use Rope w/ Binds (Escape Artist 5+ Ranks)
+2 Tumble (Jump 5+ Ranks)
+2 Spellcraft (Knowledge (Arcana) 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Search w/ Secret Doors (Knowledge (Architecture 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Bardic Knowledge (Knowledge (History) 5+ Ranks)
+2 Gather Information (Knowledge (Local) 5+ Ranks)
+2 Diplomacy (Knowledge (Nobility) 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Turn/Rebuke Undead (Knowledge (Religion) 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Survival on Planes (Knowledge (The Planes) 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Survival w/ Following Tracks (Search 5+ Ranks)
+2 Diplomacy (Sense Motive 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Use Magic Device w/ Scrolls (Spellcraft 5+ Ranks)
+2 Balance (Tumble 5+ Ranks)
+2 Jump (Tumble 5+ Ranks)
*+2 Spellcraft w/ Deciphering Scrolls (Use Magic Device 5+ Ranks)
+10 on STR and DEX Checks & Skills (Brains Over Brawn)
+4 Jump (Speed 40')
+2 Jump (Acrobatic)
+2 Tumble (Acrobatic)
+2 Balance (Agile)
+2 Escape Artist (Agile)
+2 Disable Device (Nimble Fingers)
+2 Open Lock (Nimble Fingers)
+3 Disable Device (Skill Focus: Disable Device)
+5 Jump (Boots of Striding & Springing)
+2 to Strength Checks and Strength-based Skills (Armbands of Might)
+2 Disable Device (Masterwork Thieves' Tools)
+2 Open Locks (Masterwork Thieves' Tools)
+10 Hide (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
+10 Move Silently (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
+10 Escape Artist (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Balance (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Climb (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Escape Artist (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Hide (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Jump (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Move Silently (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Sleight of Hand (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-2 Swim (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
-1 Tumble (Glamered Mithral Breastplate of Elusion +5)
*Not factored in to Misc. Skills section.
[/sblock]
[sblock=Feats]
1st -- Acrobatic (PHB I)
Human Bonus Feat -- Agile (PHB I)
3rd -- Nimble Fingers (PHB I)
6th -- Tactile Trapsmith (cAdv)
9th -- Skill Focus: Disable Device (PHB I)
12th -- Improved Toughness (cWar)
15th -- Combat Expertise (PHB I)
18th -- Combat Panache (PHB II)
At 21st -- Epic Reputation (ELH)
At Exemplar 3rd -- Improved Initiative (PHB I)
At 24th -- Great Intelligence (ELH)
At Exemplar 6th -- Versatile Performer* (cAdv)
At 27th -- Einhander (PHB II)
At Exemplar 9th -- Persuasive (PHB I)
At 30th -- Improved Combat Expertise (cWar)
*Comedy, Dance, Keyboard, Oratory, String Instruments, Wind Instruments, Sing, Weapon Drill
[/sblock]
[sblock=Updates]
[sblock=May 3rd, 2009]*Dropped 5 Ranks in Knowledge (History) and put them in Speak Languages, for a total of nine total spoken (Common + 3 INT + 5 Speak Language)[/sblock]
[sblock=May 3rd, 2009]*Cut Non-Core Item Costs in half and factored in XP costs. Also dropped Arcane Scrolls of Mass Hold Person (x2) to push my overexpenditures into equilibrium. The locations of the items in question have also been annotated. With the excess in funds (again, you seriously want to double-check that since my math is horrible), I snagged another Metamagic Rod.[/sblock]
[sblock=May 8th, 2009]*Added non-core Wondrous Item Descriptions.[/sblock]
[/sblock][/sblock]
