apocalypstick
First Post
Containing the characters for apocalypstick's 3.5 steampunk campaign:
The Astronecrotic Heresy
OOC Thread
The Astronecrotic Heresy
OOC Thread
Last edited:
The Astronecrotic Heresy - Characters
- Thread starter apocalypstick
- Start date
Farrel Hobbs
Human Sorcerer
2nd Level
Neutral
Str: 10
Dex: 13 (+1)
Con: 13 (+1)
Int: 14 (+2)
Wis: 10
Cha: 15 (+2)
Hp: 10
Ac: 11
BaB: (Base/Melee/Ranged) +1/+1/+2
Save: (Fort/Reflex/Will)+1/0/+2
Feats and Class Abilities:
Tiny Viper Familiar
Eschew Materials
Spell Focus: Conjuration
Skills Rank + Mods = Total
Bluff 5 + 5 = 10
Concentration 5 + 1 = 6
Knowledge
Religion 5 + 2 = 7
Profession
Farmer 5 + 0 = 5
Craft: Alchemy 5 + 2 = 7
Spells per Day:
Cantrips: 6
Level One: 5
Spells Known:
Cantrips: Acid Splash, Mending, Prestidigitation, Light, Daze
Level One: Summon Monster I, Grease
Equipment:
QuarterStaff +1 to hit, 1D6, x2
Dagger(x2) +1/+2 to hit, 1D4, 19-20 x2, 10 ft
Farmer’s Work Clothes
Suit (aged and thread worn)
Backpack
4days rations
Water Skin
Soap
Bedroll
30gp in coin.
Appearance
Farrel is a good old boy in the city. Always has a kind of shocked look on his face. Tall but rail thin. He has the kind of tan on his arms and neck that comes from spending most of your life in the sun. Even a waning sun. Speaks with a twang in his voice, he none the less comes off as charming. With black hair and blue eyes, he can get attention when he seeks it. He wears a thread worn suit, that he used for Church and selling goods in town, most of the time. But has some work clothes for when he needs to get dirty.
Background
Let me tell you, food may be scarce here in the city , but its plain murder out in the fields. My whole life people have been watching the sun shrink. Harvests come in smaller and smaller. Growin’ season seem to be shorter too. But do people pull together? Do they shelter each other from the growing storm? No. It’s a war out in them fields, only the fightin is done with gossip and stories.
I lost my farm not but a season ago. Good old Hobbs Hills. The Marr clan wanted that land for ages. My Pa, his Pa and even his Pa worked them selves into a grave to make our meager land grow. And we could get by. Enough to meet our taxes for the Empire. Enough to pay our Tithe to the church. Even enough to feed ourselves. Well maybe just enough to feed ourselves. Never gonna be rich as a farmer, you just starve a little slower is all.
Well, as the firstborn in our family, I took over when Pa got sick. Real sick. People said it was poisonin’. Never did find out, but he went slow and painful. I don’t know what made Herric Marr happier, Pa being sick or me taking over. Me and the Marr’s never got along. They blamed me for all kinds of goings on. They said it was my fault the day them vermin destroyed the west silo. Or when they found that huge mother rat in the barn. “Farrel Hobbs, you cursed son of the beast. Stop bringin’ your spirits round here.” I was always hanging round cause of Petra. She was the only good thing that ever grew on Marr’s land.
Well, after I runnin things for a season or two, Herric came over and told me a little secret. He said he knew why I was prospering. Said Petra saw me fixing the fences with no tools. That the whole countryside knew how I chased them vagrants away with Fire Bugs. Word was the Justicari were only a town over and that my number was up. “You leave boy. You get while the gettings good. Maybe they won’t make you ride the Sun Wheel if you start runnin Right Now.”
I hate to say this. But I left. Not because I traffic with spirits. But I knew that a church witch hunt would ruin me and my family. I figured I would wander to the city for a week, maybe two. Then head back when the Witch Hunters moved on. Turns out Herric had plans with in plans. My younger brother Easau married Petra the day after I left, I hear tell she kicked and cried her way down the aisle. But that made Herric the new boss of our Farm. Became the third largest parcel of land, outside of church land.
Easau came to see me in the city with a few of Herric’s boys. Threw me a bag a gold and told me never to come back. Hobbs Hills wasn’t my home no more. And Petra weren’t none of my concern either. She was his now and with his child. Showing already and everthing. Can’t say it didn’t sting, but I happen to know who planted Petra’s field. If ya’ get my meanin’. Easau gonna have a hard lesson one day, if blood shows true.
So here I am in the city. The loverlyest part of it too. If I can ever get past the stench of the sewers, the nightly stabbings and them mechanical creatures that crawl by on the roads; it could be home. If only it wasn’t so darn dark.
Human Sorcerer
2nd Level
Neutral
Str: 10
Dex: 13 (+1)
Con: 13 (+1)
Int: 14 (+2)
Wis: 10
Cha: 15 (+2)
Hp: 10
Ac: 11
BaB: (Base/Melee/Ranged) +1/+1/+2
Save: (Fort/Reflex/Will)+1/0/+2
Feats and Class Abilities:
Tiny Viper Familiar
Eschew Materials
Spell Focus: Conjuration
Skills Rank + Mods = Total
Bluff 5 + 5 = 10
Concentration 5 + 1 = 6
Knowledge
Religion 5 + 2 = 7
Profession
Farmer 5 + 0 = 5
Craft: Alchemy 5 + 2 = 7
Spells per Day:
Cantrips: 6
Level One: 5
Spells Known:
Cantrips: Acid Splash, Mending, Prestidigitation, Light, Daze
Level One: Summon Monster I, Grease
Equipment:
QuarterStaff +1 to hit, 1D6, x2
Dagger(x2) +1/+2 to hit, 1D4, 19-20 x2, 10 ft
Farmer’s Work Clothes
Suit (aged and thread worn)
Backpack
4days rations
Water Skin
Soap
Bedroll
30gp in coin.
Appearance
Farrel is a good old boy in the city. Always has a kind of shocked look on his face. Tall but rail thin. He has the kind of tan on his arms and neck that comes from spending most of your life in the sun. Even a waning sun. Speaks with a twang in his voice, he none the less comes off as charming. With black hair and blue eyes, he can get attention when he seeks it. He wears a thread worn suit, that he used for Church and selling goods in town, most of the time. But has some work clothes for when he needs to get dirty.
Background
Let me tell you, food may be scarce here in the city , but its plain murder out in the fields. My whole life people have been watching the sun shrink. Harvests come in smaller and smaller. Growin’ season seem to be shorter too. But do people pull together? Do they shelter each other from the growing storm? No. It’s a war out in them fields, only the fightin is done with gossip and stories.
I lost my farm not but a season ago. Good old Hobbs Hills. The Marr clan wanted that land for ages. My Pa, his Pa and even his Pa worked them selves into a grave to make our meager land grow. And we could get by. Enough to meet our taxes for the Empire. Enough to pay our Tithe to the church. Even enough to feed ourselves. Well maybe just enough to feed ourselves. Never gonna be rich as a farmer, you just starve a little slower is all.
Well, as the firstborn in our family, I took over when Pa got sick. Real sick. People said it was poisonin’. Never did find out, but he went slow and painful. I don’t know what made Herric Marr happier, Pa being sick or me taking over. Me and the Marr’s never got along. They blamed me for all kinds of goings on. They said it was my fault the day them vermin destroyed the west silo. Or when they found that huge mother rat in the barn. “Farrel Hobbs, you cursed son of the beast. Stop bringin’ your spirits round here.” I was always hanging round cause of Petra. She was the only good thing that ever grew on Marr’s land.
Well, after I runnin things for a season or two, Herric came over and told me a little secret. He said he knew why I was prospering. Said Petra saw me fixing the fences with no tools. That the whole countryside knew how I chased them vagrants away with Fire Bugs. Word was the Justicari were only a town over and that my number was up. “You leave boy. You get while the gettings good. Maybe they won’t make you ride the Sun Wheel if you start runnin Right Now.”
I hate to say this. But I left. Not because I traffic with spirits. But I knew that a church witch hunt would ruin me and my family. I figured I would wander to the city for a week, maybe two. Then head back when the Witch Hunters moved on. Turns out Herric had plans with in plans. My younger brother Easau married Petra the day after I left, I hear tell she kicked and cried her way down the aisle. But that made Herric the new boss of our Farm. Became the third largest parcel of land, outside of church land.
Easau came to see me in the city with a few of Herric’s boys. Threw me a bag a gold and told me never to come back. Hobbs Hills wasn’t my home no more. And Petra weren’t none of my concern either. She was his now and with his child. Showing already and everthing. Can’t say it didn’t sting, but I happen to know who planted Petra’s field. If ya’ get my meanin’. Easau gonna have a hard lesson one day, if blood shows true.
So here I am in the city. The loverlyest part of it too. If I can ever get past the stench of the sewers, the nightly stabbings and them mechanical creatures that crawl by on the roads; it could be home. If only it wasn’t so darn dark.
Zerth
First Post
Daniel Nova, "Dan"
Human Monk1/Barbarian1 (Chaotic)
STR 14 (+2) [rage 18 (+4)]
DEX 14 (+2)
CON 14 (+2) [rage 18 (+4)]
INT 10 (+0)
WIS 14 (+2)
CHA 10 (+0)
BAB +1
Melee +3 [+1/+1 flurry of blows] unarmed, 1d6+2, x2 (rage +5 [+3/+3 flurry of blows], 1d6+4, x2)
Ranged +3 [+1/+1 flurry of blows] shuriken, 1d2+2, x2, RI 10 ft (rage damage 1d2+4, x2)
Speed 40 ft.
Initiative +2
AC 14 (+2 Dex, +2 Wis); touch 14; flat-footed 12 (rage -2)
HP 24 (rage 28)
Fort +6 (rage +8)
Ref +4
Will +4 (rage +6)
Monk abilities: unarmed strike, flurry of blows.
Barbarian abilities: fast movement, rage 1/day (+4 Str, +4 Con, +2 will saves, -2 AC, lasts 7 rounds)
Feats: endurance [1st], diehard [human bonus feat], improved grapple [monk1].
Skills: [25 ranks]
Climb +5 [3 ranks, +2 Str], (+7 rage)
Hide +4 [2 ranks, +2 Dex]
Intimidate +4 [4 ranks, +0 Cha]
Jump +7 [5 ranks, +2 Str], (+9 rage)
Knowledge (religion) +1 [1 rank, +0 Int]
Listen +4 [2 ranks, +2 Wis]
Move silently +4 [2 ranks, + 2 Dex]
Spot +4 [2 ranks, +2 Wis]
Tumble +8 [4 ranks, +2 Dex, +2 synergy from Jump]
Possessions: 10 shurikens, backpack, bedroll, crowbar, flint and steel, grappling hook, hempen rope (50 ft.), 2 sacks, signal whistle, waterskin, 2 torches.
Money: 1 gp, 3 sp, 8 cp.
Description: Dan is 20 years old, 6 feet tall and weighs in 175 lbs. He has short black hair, a well-trimmed vandyke and green eyes. He’s kept himself in exellent physical condition, just like back in the days he was a monk. As a monk, Dan, or ‘brother Daniel’, was a quiet and dedicated student, but he has since changed to a angry young man, who wants to get even with those, who destroyed his world. He acts tough and no doubt is a dangerous man, but still in occasion tends to help those, who suffer from injustice and oppression. There’s nothing more he’d want than to get back his former simple, happy life. But ultimately he knows it isn’t possible and that’s killing him. The whole world around him literally seems to be collapsing, but he’s not ready to give up yet. No more standing in the background – it’s his time now and those who hurt him are going to pay.
Background: Dan was an orphan, he never knew his parents, who left him at the Monastery of the Cleansing Light when he was just a baby. He was raised and trained by the Order, that according to many, was one of the last places, where the dogma of the Sun God was taught by those with a pure heart. To be a monk of the Cleansing Light was to dedicate your life in helping the poor, hungry and the sick, which are plentiful in these dark times. Dan lived a hard-working simple life, that still was very fulfilling. He felt he was needed, having a clear meaning in his life.
But that would be changed, when he was 19. The desperate times gave birth to desperate, angry groups like the Tempest Street Irregulars, a notorious gang roaming the dark alleys causing fear in the hearts of those, who could not defend themselves. In one dark night, it happened. The TSI came swiftly, showing no mercy. The cowardly attack caught the monks by surprise and many were slain still sleeping, including all Dan’s best friends and most respected masters. Even today, Dan doesn’t know or understand, why they attacked the monastery and burned it to the ground. The monks had hardly any loot, they existed only to help others. How could someone do such a thing? He swore on the dead bodies of his brother monks, that the wrong-doers would pay.
The monks, that survived turned to both the Empire and the Crurch for help. Some of the more experienced monks would be given new posts in the church organization, but for the young ones like Dan, noone answered the call. Nothing was done, like they never had existed. On that day, Dan lost his faith in the Church and the Empire and turned away from the monk’s path. He would leave behind most what he had learned at the monastery and embrace the burning hatred inside.
Life in the streets awaited and Dan took every advantage of it to get his revenge, joining another street gang, who were enemies of the TSI. There were some intense fights between the gangs and Dan's side got the worst part of it. The gang fell apart, scattered around with no leadership. Dan is currently hiding in the shadows of the slums with two of his gang-mates, Isaac and Alexander, having yet another reason to get even with the hated TSI.
Human Monk1/Barbarian1 (Chaotic)
STR 14 (+2) [rage 18 (+4)]
DEX 14 (+2)
CON 14 (+2) [rage 18 (+4)]
INT 10 (+0)
WIS 14 (+2)
CHA 10 (+0)
BAB +1
Melee +3 [+1/+1 flurry of blows] unarmed, 1d6+2, x2 (rage +5 [+3/+3 flurry of blows], 1d6+4, x2)
Ranged +3 [+1/+1 flurry of blows] shuriken, 1d2+2, x2, RI 10 ft (rage damage 1d2+4, x2)
Speed 40 ft.
Initiative +2
AC 14 (+2 Dex, +2 Wis); touch 14; flat-footed 12 (rage -2)
HP 24 (rage 28)
Fort +6 (rage +8)
Ref +4
Will +4 (rage +6)
Monk abilities: unarmed strike, flurry of blows.
Barbarian abilities: fast movement, rage 1/day (+4 Str, +4 Con, +2 will saves, -2 AC, lasts 7 rounds)
Feats: endurance [1st], diehard [human bonus feat], improved grapple [monk1].
Skills: [25 ranks]
Climb +5 [3 ranks, +2 Str], (+7 rage)
Hide +4 [2 ranks, +2 Dex]
Intimidate +4 [4 ranks, +0 Cha]
Jump +7 [5 ranks, +2 Str], (+9 rage)
Knowledge (religion) +1 [1 rank, +0 Int]
Listen +4 [2 ranks, +2 Wis]
Move silently +4 [2 ranks, + 2 Dex]
Spot +4 [2 ranks, +2 Wis]
Tumble +8 [4 ranks, +2 Dex, +2 synergy from Jump]
Possessions: 10 shurikens, backpack, bedroll, crowbar, flint and steel, grappling hook, hempen rope (50 ft.), 2 sacks, signal whistle, waterskin, 2 torches.
Money: 1 gp, 3 sp, 8 cp.
Description: Dan is 20 years old, 6 feet tall and weighs in 175 lbs. He has short black hair, a well-trimmed vandyke and green eyes. He’s kept himself in exellent physical condition, just like back in the days he was a monk. As a monk, Dan, or ‘brother Daniel’, was a quiet and dedicated student, but he has since changed to a angry young man, who wants to get even with those, who destroyed his world. He acts tough and no doubt is a dangerous man, but still in occasion tends to help those, who suffer from injustice and oppression. There’s nothing more he’d want than to get back his former simple, happy life. But ultimately he knows it isn’t possible and that’s killing him. The whole world around him literally seems to be collapsing, but he’s not ready to give up yet. No more standing in the background – it’s his time now and those who hurt him are going to pay.
Background: Dan was an orphan, he never knew his parents, who left him at the Monastery of the Cleansing Light when he was just a baby. He was raised and trained by the Order, that according to many, was one of the last places, where the dogma of the Sun God was taught by those with a pure heart. To be a monk of the Cleansing Light was to dedicate your life in helping the poor, hungry and the sick, which are plentiful in these dark times. Dan lived a hard-working simple life, that still was very fulfilling. He felt he was needed, having a clear meaning in his life.
But that would be changed, when he was 19. The desperate times gave birth to desperate, angry groups like the Tempest Street Irregulars, a notorious gang roaming the dark alleys causing fear in the hearts of those, who could not defend themselves. In one dark night, it happened. The TSI came swiftly, showing no mercy. The cowardly attack caught the monks by surprise and many were slain still sleeping, including all Dan’s best friends and most respected masters. Even today, Dan doesn’t know or understand, why they attacked the monastery and burned it to the ground. The monks had hardly any loot, they existed only to help others. How could someone do such a thing? He swore on the dead bodies of his brother monks, that the wrong-doers would pay.
The monks, that survived turned to both the Empire and the Crurch for help. Some of the more experienced monks would be given new posts in the church organization, but for the young ones like Dan, noone answered the call. Nothing was done, like they never had existed. On that day, Dan lost his faith in the Church and the Empire and turned away from the monk’s path. He would leave behind most what he had learned at the monastery and embrace the burning hatred inside.
Life in the streets awaited and Dan took every advantage of it to get his revenge, joining another street gang, who were enemies of the TSI. There were some intense fights between the gangs and Dan's side got the worst part of it. The gang fell apart, scattered around with no leadership. Dan is currently hiding in the shadows of the slums with two of his gang-mates, Isaac and Alexander, having yet another reason to get even with the hated TSI.
Last edited:
Kamard
First Post
Isaac Owenthorpe
Human Rogue 1/Fighter 1 (Chaotic)
STR: 10 -
DEX: 15 +2
CON: 13 +1
INT: 13 +1
WIS: 10 -
CHA: 14 +2
BAB: +1 ( Melee: +1, Ranged: +3)
Fort: +3
Ref: +4
Will: +0
AC: 15
HP: 18
Feats:
Improved Initiative
Combat Expertise
Improved Feint
Skills
Appraise 2/+3
Balance 1/+3
Bluff 4 +1(cc)/+7
Climb 1/+1
Decipher Script 2/+3
Diplomacy 3/+5
Disable Device +4/+5
Disguise 2/+4
Escape Artist 1/+3
Forgery 1/+2
Gather Info 2/+4
Hide 3/+5
Intimidate 1/+3
Knowledge: Astronomy 1/+2
Knowledge: Local 2/+3
Listen 1/+1
Move Silently 3/+5
Open Lock 1/+3
Search 1/+2
Sense Motive 1/+1
Sleight of Hand 1/+3
Tumble 2/+4
Use Magical Device 1/+3
Use Rope 1/+3
Equipment:
Guisarme (+1 to hit, 2d4 dmg, x3 critical, reach 10', may be used for trip attacks)
Rapier (+1 to hit, d6 dmg, 18-20/x2 critical)
Dagger (+1 to hit, d4 dmg, 19-20/x2 critical, 20' range when thrown)
Shortbow (+3 to hit, d6 dmg, x3 critical, 60' range, 40 arrows)
Studded Leather (+3 AC, Max Dex +5)
Backpack
Bedroll
Flask full of wine
50' silk rope
Hooded Lantern w/ 1 vial oil
Thieve's Tools
Lucky platinum coin
2 gold coins
8 silver coins
The Short Version:
Isaac was born in the glorious capital city of Kylearia, one face among the masses, left to be raised in the slums and ruins of the much more glorious past. At an early age he fell in with a group of rakes and cut-throats, and for a long time this was his world. Beating up the well-dressed for their coin purse before running off to the tavern and the alley to sleep. This worked well for him, with his friends and enemies existing in unchanging glorious filth.
Then the Guard remembered their ward, and actually bothered to send guards there in a year-long "cleansing" that left young Isaac running for his life with many of his friends worse than dead- imprisoned! The remants of the gang remained, though not as active, and slowly it has been reborn. Since his late teens, he has taken many odd jobs, but nothing has truly piqued his interest.
And then the sun began to grow cold, and his first impression was unnatural terror and a loathing of the Church- clearly their ways have made the Sun turn away from the true believers (not him, granted, but people in general)! He has decided to find somebody learned who might be able to make some sense of this.
Appearance:
Isaac is 26, fairly short (5'6") and rail thin, with the tattered and smelly remains of a noble's smoking jacket barely concealing his threadbare vest and pock-ridden chest. He wears a pair of trousers that are torn and faded from the original blue, and on his feet jauntily rest a single boot w/ dagger and a sandal wrapped and re-wrapped in cloth. His hair is long, uncombed, and both prematurely gray and thinning, though he usually hides this with a broken-down bowler hat. His teeth are almost orange and very gap-ridden, his breath fits right into the city's miasma, and his greasy goatee does little to enhance his face, with its oft-broken nose and long knife-scar that runs from lower lip to just over his adam's apple. Isaac's eyes are his only saving grace- they are a bright, piercing blue that do not look they belong on such a filthy frame. Indeed, long ago a member of the Tempest Street Irregulars decided for himself that this was the case, and Isaac bears a wrinkled scar above his left eye that nearly obliterates his eyebrow. Isaac walks with a slight limp and even at his tender age has noticed he is getting creakier and has a persistent cough that comes and goes depending on how much devilweed he has smoked in the past month or so.
Mannerisms:
Isaac speaks quickly and almost incoherently, using his own pidgin tongue that others have some difficulty deciphering. He often moves manically and he stoops when he stands, with both hands clasped tightly behind his back, a decidedly bird-like posture. Isaac is most often very drunk or deep in a stupor from some hastily-purchased mushroom powder or devilweed, though he has tried to stay away from that stuff, noting he most often wakes up with a broken bone or three when under the influence of that filth.
Human Rogue 1/Fighter 1 (Chaotic)
STR: 10 -
DEX: 15 +2
CON: 13 +1
INT: 13 +1
WIS: 10 -
CHA: 14 +2
BAB: +1 ( Melee: +1, Ranged: +3)
Fort: +3
Ref: +4
Will: +0
AC: 15
HP: 18
Feats:
Improved Initiative
Combat Expertise
Improved Feint
Skills
Appraise 2/+3
Balance 1/+3
Bluff 4 +1(cc)/+7
Climb 1/+1
Decipher Script 2/+3
Diplomacy 3/+5
Disable Device +4/+5
Disguise 2/+4
Escape Artist 1/+3
Forgery 1/+2
Gather Info 2/+4
Hide 3/+5
Intimidate 1/+3
Knowledge: Astronomy 1/+2
Knowledge: Local 2/+3
Listen 1/+1
Move Silently 3/+5
Open Lock 1/+3
Search 1/+2
Sense Motive 1/+1
Sleight of Hand 1/+3
Tumble 2/+4
Use Magical Device 1/+3
Use Rope 1/+3
Equipment:
Guisarme (+1 to hit, 2d4 dmg, x3 critical, reach 10', may be used for trip attacks)
Rapier (+1 to hit, d6 dmg, 18-20/x2 critical)
Dagger (+1 to hit, d4 dmg, 19-20/x2 critical, 20' range when thrown)
Shortbow (+3 to hit, d6 dmg, x3 critical, 60' range, 40 arrows)
Studded Leather (+3 AC, Max Dex +5)
Backpack
Bedroll
Flask full of wine
50' silk rope
Hooded Lantern w/ 1 vial oil
Thieve's Tools
Lucky platinum coin
2 gold coins
8 silver coins
The Short Version:
Isaac was born in the glorious capital city of Kylearia, one face among the masses, left to be raised in the slums and ruins of the much more glorious past. At an early age he fell in with a group of rakes and cut-throats, and for a long time this was his world. Beating up the well-dressed for their coin purse before running off to the tavern and the alley to sleep. This worked well for him, with his friends and enemies existing in unchanging glorious filth.
Then the Guard remembered their ward, and actually bothered to send guards there in a year-long "cleansing" that left young Isaac running for his life with many of his friends worse than dead- imprisoned! The remants of the gang remained, though not as active, and slowly it has been reborn. Since his late teens, he has taken many odd jobs, but nothing has truly piqued his interest.
And then the sun began to grow cold, and his first impression was unnatural terror and a loathing of the Church- clearly their ways have made the Sun turn away from the true believers (not him, granted, but people in general)! He has decided to find somebody learned who might be able to make some sense of this.
Appearance:
Isaac is 26, fairly short (5'6") and rail thin, with the tattered and smelly remains of a noble's smoking jacket barely concealing his threadbare vest and pock-ridden chest. He wears a pair of trousers that are torn and faded from the original blue, and on his feet jauntily rest a single boot w/ dagger and a sandal wrapped and re-wrapped in cloth. His hair is long, uncombed, and both prematurely gray and thinning, though he usually hides this with a broken-down bowler hat. His teeth are almost orange and very gap-ridden, his breath fits right into the city's miasma, and his greasy goatee does little to enhance his face, with its oft-broken nose and long knife-scar that runs from lower lip to just over his adam's apple. Isaac's eyes are his only saving grace- they are a bright, piercing blue that do not look they belong on such a filthy frame. Indeed, long ago a member of the Tempest Street Irregulars decided for himself that this was the case, and Isaac bears a wrinkled scar above his left eye that nearly obliterates his eyebrow. Isaac walks with a slight limp and even at his tender age has noticed he is getting creakier and has a persistent cough that comes and goes depending on how much devilweed he has smoked in the past month or so.
Mannerisms:
Isaac speaks quickly and almost incoherently, using his own pidgin tongue that others have some difficulty deciphering. He often moves manically and he stoops when he stands, with both hands clasped tightly behind his back, a decidedly bird-like posture. Isaac is most often very drunk or deep in a stupor from some hastily-purchased mushroom powder or devilweed, though he has tried to stay away from that stuff, noting he most often wakes up with a broken bone or three when under the influence of that filth.
Last edited:
Inez Hull
First Post
Drehluk Sebalsten
Human Fighter 2
HP: 2d10 + 2 = 22
Initiative: +1 (Dex)
Move: 20'
AC:15 (+ 4 Armour, + 1 Dex), Touch 11, Flat Footed 14
Base Attack / Grapple: +1 / + 3
Attack: Greatsword +4 (2d6+3, 19-20/x2)
Saves: Fort + 4, Ref + 1, Will + 1
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 12
Alignment: N
Skills: Craft: Firearms 5/7, Handle Animal 1/2, Intimidate 5/6, Knowledge: Astronomy 2/4, Knowledge: Geography 1/3, Knowledge: Religion 5/7 , Ride: Horse 2/3, Sense Motive [cc] 2/3
Feats: Cleave, Exotic Weapon Proficiency [Rifle], Power Attack, Weapon Focus [Greatsword]
Equipment:
Greatsword [15lb, 50gp]
Scale Mail [30lb, 50gp]
Backpack [2lb, 2gp]
Rations (1 week) [7lb, 35sp]
Waterskin [4lb, 1gp]
Flint & Steel [1gp]
Lantern (hooded) [2lb, 7gp]
Oil (5 flasks) [5lb, 5sp]
Bedroll [5lb, 1sp]
Rope, hemp [10lb, 1gp]
Treasure: 6gp, 7sp
Total Weight Carried: 82lb (medium encumbrance)
Drehluk spent much of his life in the church of Anselm and came to an uneasy justification of the nature of the world through the church's teachings. To steady his doubts he threw himself into a life of service and found the black and white outlook of the Justicari the easiest way to suppress his doubts. He existed in a steady state of self delusion for years, convincing himself that the injustices he saw carried out by his brethren (and participated in himself) were warranted. However, the dying of the sun changed all that. No longer could he maintain the pretence of his belief.
At first his disillusionment manifested as cynical bitterness. He stayed within the church and abused his rank for personal gain, then later left and attacked the church in whatever petty ways he could get away with, yet also using his knowledge to garner a living for himself. He became a wandering thug, conman and mercenary, living only for himself, sustained by his bitterness.
He has come to the point now where cynicism is not enough, his bitterness is turning him into a man who he hates. He lived by ideals (however warped) in his former life and is now searching for worth or ideals in a corrupt world to reshape his life by. He has had little success so far but his resolution has given him hope and purpose. He still wanders, not rootlessly and aimlessly, but rather on a quest of sorts to see what virtue and ideals still remain in a dying world.
Human Fighter 2
HP: 2d10 + 2 = 22
Initiative: +1 (Dex)
Move: 20'
AC:15 (+ 4 Armour, + 1 Dex), Touch 11, Flat Footed 14
Base Attack / Grapple: +1 / + 3
Attack: Greatsword +4 (2d6+3, 19-20/x2)
Saves: Fort + 4, Ref + 1, Will + 1
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 12
Alignment: N
Skills: Craft: Firearms 5/7, Handle Animal 1/2, Intimidate 5/6, Knowledge: Astronomy 2/4, Knowledge: Geography 1/3, Knowledge: Religion 5/7 , Ride: Horse 2/3, Sense Motive [cc] 2/3
Feats: Cleave, Exotic Weapon Proficiency [Rifle], Power Attack, Weapon Focus [Greatsword]
Equipment:
Greatsword [15lb, 50gp]
Scale Mail [30lb, 50gp]
Backpack [2lb, 2gp]
Rations (1 week) [7lb, 35sp]
Waterskin [4lb, 1gp]
Flint & Steel [1gp]
Lantern (hooded) [2lb, 7gp]
Oil (5 flasks) [5lb, 5sp]
Bedroll [5lb, 1sp]
Rope, hemp [10lb, 1gp]
Treasure: 6gp, 7sp
Total Weight Carried: 82lb (medium encumbrance)
Drehluk spent much of his life in the church of Anselm and came to an uneasy justification of the nature of the world through the church's teachings. To steady his doubts he threw himself into a life of service and found the black and white outlook of the Justicari the easiest way to suppress his doubts. He existed in a steady state of self delusion for years, convincing himself that the injustices he saw carried out by his brethren (and participated in himself) were warranted. However, the dying of the sun changed all that. No longer could he maintain the pretence of his belief.
At first his disillusionment manifested as cynical bitterness. He stayed within the church and abused his rank for personal gain, then later left and attacked the church in whatever petty ways he could get away with, yet also using his knowledge to garner a living for himself. He became a wandering thug, conman and mercenary, living only for himself, sustained by his bitterness.
He has come to the point now where cynicism is not enough, his bitterness is turning him into a man who he hates. He lived by ideals (however warped) in his former life and is now searching for worth or ideals in a corrupt world to reshape his life by. He has had little success so far but his resolution has given him hope and purpose. He still wanders, not rootlessly and aimlessly, but rather on a quest of sorts to see what virtue and ideals still remain in a dying world.
Argent Silvermage
First Post
Alexander Starbuck
Human Bard level 2 (Neutral)
STR: 12
DEX: 14
CON: 12
INT: 14
WIS: 10
CHA: 14
BAB: +1 (+2M/+3R)
Fort: +1
Ref: +5
Will: +3
AC: 16 (+2 DEX, +4 Armor) 12 touch, 14 flat.
Feats:
Exotic Weapon prof: Pistols
Magical aptitude
Skills:
Knowledge Arcana 5/+7
Spell Craft 5/+9
Use Magical device 5/+9
Slight of Hand 5/+7
Open Locks 5/+7
Knowledge City 5/+7
Performance: Guitar 5/+7
Performance: Singing 5/+7
Diplomacy 5/+7
Bardic Knowledge: +4
Hit points: 14
Spells per day: 0=3, 1st = 1
Spells Known:
Cantrips: Detect Magic, Lullaby, Message, Prestidigitation, and Summon Instrument
1st Level: Identify and Charm Person.
Equipment:
Backpack [2lb, 2gp]
Rations (1 week) [7lb, 35sp]
Waterskin [4lb, 1gp]
Flint & Steel [1gp]
Lantern (hooded) [2lb, 7gp]
Oil (5 flasks) [5lb, 5sp]
Bedroll [5lb, 1sp]
Rope, hemp [10lb, 1gp]
Dagger [1lb, 2gp]
Rapier [2lb, 20gp]
Chain Shirt [25lb, 100gp]
Guitar [3lb, 5gp]
I carry the small portrait of my parents in my pack. Edison and Dana Starbuck were the best parents a kid could ever want, and they were taken from me far to early.
I guess it all goes back generations. The Starbuck clan has always been a magical people. That brought them under the scrutiny of the Church and their followers. Systematically my family was eradicated and it’s only because I was too little to learn magic that I was left alive.
I was raised in a foster home for many years the Renniville’s were always cordial to me but I was obviously not wanted there. I always remembered the deaths of my parents but could do nothing to avenge them. One day my nanny gave me a book about my family history. She was originally employed with my family hand had remained loyal to them. She helped me escape the Renniville’s home where I had been living and took me to a secret place where a group of mages trained me in the arts of music. Colin Decamps was my song/magic teacher and said that music would heal this broken world. I believe him.
Now I travel from town to town playing my songs and reminding people of the wonders they are missing. My magics are used sparingly at best so as not to draw attention to myself.
I am Alexander Starbuck. Last of my line and healer of souls.
Human Bard level 2 (Neutral)
STR: 12
DEX: 14
CON: 12
INT: 14
WIS: 10
CHA: 14
BAB: +1 (+2M/+3R)
Fort: +1
Ref: +5
Will: +3
AC: 16 (+2 DEX, +4 Armor) 12 touch, 14 flat.
Feats:
Exotic Weapon prof: Pistols
Magical aptitude
Skills:
Knowledge Arcana 5/+7
Spell Craft 5/+9
Use Magical device 5/+9
Slight of Hand 5/+7
Open Locks 5/+7
Knowledge City 5/+7
Performance: Guitar 5/+7
Performance: Singing 5/+7
Diplomacy 5/+7
Bardic Knowledge: +4
Hit points: 14
Spells per day: 0=3, 1st = 1
Spells Known:
Cantrips: Detect Magic, Lullaby, Message, Prestidigitation, and Summon Instrument
1st Level: Identify and Charm Person.
Equipment:
Backpack [2lb, 2gp]
Rations (1 week) [7lb, 35sp]
Waterskin [4lb, 1gp]
Flint & Steel [1gp]
Lantern (hooded) [2lb, 7gp]
Oil (5 flasks) [5lb, 5sp]
Bedroll [5lb, 1sp]
Rope, hemp [10lb, 1gp]
Dagger [1lb, 2gp]
Rapier [2lb, 20gp]
Chain Shirt [25lb, 100gp]
Guitar [3lb, 5gp]
I carry the small portrait of my parents in my pack. Edison and Dana Starbuck were the best parents a kid could ever want, and they were taken from me far to early.
I guess it all goes back generations. The Starbuck clan has always been a magical people. That brought them under the scrutiny of the Church and their followers. Systematically my family was eradicated and it’s only because I was too little to learn magic that I was left alive.
I was raised in a foster home for many years the Renniville’s were always cordial to me but I was obviously not wanted there. I always remembered the deaths of my parents but could do nothing to avenge them. One day my nanny gave me a book about my family history. She was originally employed with my family hand had remained loyal to them. She helped me escape the Renniville’s home where I had been living and took me to a secret place where a group of mages trained me in the arts of music. Colin Decamps was my song/magic teacher and said that music would heal this broken world. I believe him.
Now I travel from town to town playing my songs and reminding people of the wonders they are missing. My magics are used sparingly at best so as not to draw attention to myself.
I am Alexander Starbuck. Last of my line and healer of souls.
Last edited:
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