I have been a lurker for ages on this forum and just wanted to post some ideas on characters for my Urik campaign...
Have been passionate about Dark Sun since the 1st boxed set and really appreciate all the high quality stuff I have seen here and at athas.org. I cannot say how much it means to me that this majestic world remains alive and kicking so long after it was cancelled...
So, without further ado I give you Rorek...
Rorek, War Bureau Militant CR 9
LN male dwarf fighter5/templar knight4
Init: +2
AC: 19 ( +2 dex, +7 kank breastplate +2,); touch 12, flat-footed 17
HD: 9d10+54 ; hp 108
Fort:+13 Ref:+4 Will:+4
Speed: 20ft
Base Atk: +13 Grapple: +18
Melee: +18 ( +2 greatclub of speed) 1d10+8/x2 or eagles claw
Full Atk: +18/+13/+18 ( +2 speed greatclub) 1d10+8/x2 or eagles claw
Abilities: Str 19 Dex 14 Con 22 Int 12 Wis 15 Cha 12
Feats: power attack, cleave, improved bullrush,( weapon focus, weapon specialization, greater weapon focus: greatclub)
Skills: ride +6, intimidate (str variant) +16, spot +5, diplomacy +2, knowledge (warfare) +13
Spells known:
1) shield of faith
2) bulls strength
SQ: smite (+1 to hit/+4 to damage), spellstoring (inflict moderate wounds in club)
Possessions: armor, greatclub, templar tabard, small jar of potent broy, 3 silver rings, templar sigil, 3 sp 23 cp, 12 bits
Hooks:
'For Urik! For Lord Hamanu! For Honor!'
'Straighten your back, soldier! Ye have the look of a poxied gith about ye.'
'High Templar Styaraxes is not receiving visitors at the moment'
Rorek is a hard-bitten veteran of Hamanu’s legions, having served in the campaign against Tyr as well as innumerable skirmishes against bandits, slave tribes, gith, elves and Raamin marauders. Since having been removed from field duty and assigned as the chief bodyguard of a high ranking civil bureau official by royal decree (Hamanu was impressed by his fearlessness in combat and commitment to the welfare of his men), he has also had to acquaint himself with the treacherous infighting and deception that infests the templarate. A soldier through and through, Rorek finds his recruitment from the ranks a mixed blessing, and often wishes he were back on the battlefield, where enemies at least have the courtesy to be open with their intentions. Despite this, he performs his duties with characteristic thoroughness and has made the protection of his patron’s life his focus. In his rare moments of free time (a difficult concept for a dwarf to come to terms with), he acts as an informal instructor on the war bureau training fields, pays visits to various courtesans or debates military strategy with fellow veterans over a gourd of broy in his favourite wine-shop.
Massively muscled even for a dwarf, Rorek is made even more intimidating by a very broken nose (courtesy of a rock thrown by a Tyrian hooligan during the war), a seemingly permanent scowl of suspicion, and a penchant for broy that has turned his already deep dwarven baritone into a menacing growl. The instigators skin is a patchwork of scars from countless battles, and his left arm is adorned by a regimental tattoo identifying him as being a member of the 13th infantry maniple, an elite unit of shock troopers popularly known as the Sons of the Lion.
On duty, Rorek typically directs a squad of ten hand picked soldiers (human fighter 2) equipped with obsidian tipped spears, bone dirks, and protected by hide shields and carru leather corselets.
Rorek himself carries a massive mace beautifully fashioned from agafari wood and tipped with a sphere of malachite (a gift from his employer) and always wears a curved dirk fashioned from a kirre’s claw on his belt (treat as falcons claw from sandstorm). His armour, made from the finely polished and shaped carapace of an albino kank, is always kept impeccably clean and protected by a standard issue yellow tabard embroidered with the image of the Lion of Urik.
Comments, feedback, better builds to get same character type ( I am NOT a nuts and bolts guy!). And also, I'd love to see some of your Athasian personalities and such.
Next I will post Rorek's boss.
Cheers
Great job!!!
AZAZEL
I've always felt that the esprit de corps of military units gives a lot of flavour and depth to characters. The Sons of the Lion (which I am still fleshing out btw) takes a lot of inspiration from the praetorian guard and the SAS, with a little bit of Titus Pullo style crazy thrown in for good measure :D . These are the tough SoBs who are sent in to create and enlarge breaches in the enemy line as well as being deployed to take down the enemys inix, driks and rezhatta beetles. Depending on their specialisation, members may have levels of bar... I mean brute :embarrass , ranger, or psychic warrior. The only thing really required to join is at least five years field service (garrison duty doesnt count) in the army of Urik and commendations for unshakeable discipline, bravery bordering on the suicidal and extraodrinary fighting ability.
There's the fluff, but I would really appreciate any thoughts about how to translate this into game mechanics most efficiently (or maybe what I have presented is enough?)-I especially wanted some suitable PrCs.
P.S
Has anyone seen a PrC that reflects the abilities of fighters in the original 2e edition DS, with the ability to build fortifications, train others and command troops. Really gave the fighter some unique abilities and flavour. It could also be expanded to reflect different kinds of soldiers e.g. sappers, assault troops, disciplined legionnaires etc.
Chahir
Moving on, I present you with the second part in the character vignettes series... a Dark Sun classic: the Scheming Templar(tm)
Orjaan of Styaraxes, Civil Bureau Legitimator, Lord Magistrate of the King’s Court (NE human male Templar 4/ Psion (telepath)3/psychic theurge 8/ Yellow Robe 5)
A slight, grey-haired man in his late thirties, Lord Magistrate Orjaan has a severe face and distinctive hands, with fingers almost as long and slender as those of an elf, which he compulsively twines and untwines when he is deep in thought.
Despite his lofty rank, the Legitimator is quite young for someone who came up through the ranks as opposed to having been born into the High templarate, though the hard depths of his dead, grey eyes speak volumes about the price he has paid to sate his lust for power.
The Lord Magistrate dresses as befits his station, in a finely spun templar’s robe with metal threads on the sleeves marking out his rank in the civil bureau and the tabard of a magistrate. He is always accompanied by a scribe (human female expert 2) carrying writing materials and legal documents as well as two body-slaves (human male commoner1) bearing parasols, refreshments and a portable chair. His retinue also includes his bodyguard (Rorek and his boys), one or two templar protégés (levels 3-5) as well as his personal aide Masut, one of the King’s personal defilers.
A consummate schemer and master of bureaucratic infighting, Orjaan has rapidly climbed the ranks of the templarate in the time honoured fashion: over the bodies of his predecessors. Blessed with intelligence and an almost unparalleled ability to manipulate the Code of Hamanu to the benefit of those who make it worth his while, Orjaan has accumulated an impressive network of rich and influential allies (including senior figures within house Tsalaxa and several nobles). In addition, the Lord Magistrate has a coterie of young and ambitious templars (2-6) whose careers within the civil bureau have been made very much easier by the intercession of such an esteemed patron, and who serve him with as much loyalty as can possibly be expected from their kind.
Wanting to distance himself from his hardscrabble origins as the orphaned son of a lowly water vendor, Orjaan seeks to cultivate an image as a sophisticate and patron of the arts. His residence is brimming with finely woven Drajian tapestries, drake ivory scrimshaws and exquisite blue-glazed pottery from Urik’s may kilns. The atrium is decorated with elaborate mosaics depicting scenes copied from Green Age ruins and the fountain is built around a large chalcedony head found in the desert near Yaramuke.
This guy is (obviously) meant as a recurring NPC of the dastardly templar variety , since the PCs are bound to eventually trip and fall all over one the countless schemes hatched by him or his allies, drawing his ire. They could, alternatively be hired to take part in them without ever knowing who they are truly working for
.But I am drawing a blank on what kind of magical items/goodies he should have and also whether his psionic powers are worth squat given his other levels.
So, thoughts on the build & how to improve it, items that would enhance it and so on would be most welcome.
Chahir
As I said before, I would like to work these descriptions into full builds and would sure appreciate any help with the crunch if y'all can spare it...
Here goes...
Masut
Aide to the Lord Magistrate’s aide graduate of King Hamanu’s royal academy
(LE half-elf male wilder 2/ defiler 7/royal defiler2)
Born as the result of a drunken fling between an elven herdsman and the bored wife of a spice trader, Masut was abandoned by his mother at birth (she claimed a miscarriage and sold the baby to flesh-peddlers) and grew up feral in the slums, using his intelligence and psionic talents to prey upon those weaker than himself. His raw potential was recognised by one of the Kings favourites (Lady Xintri, who refers to him jokingly as the son she never had) who presented him to the Lion as a gift. Amused by his natural gift for defiling magic and warped mind, Hamanu had Masut trained personally by his royal sorcerers.
Slender and tall, Masut might almost be mistaken for a desert runner except for his broader features, distinctively human nose, and skin, which is the dead white of alabaster. His gaunt face is framed by tresses of black, lustreless hair, carefully combed and scented with yypr wood. Masut favours nondescript capes of black linen and stylish Tyrian hats that protect his vulnerable skin from the sun. Ivory bangles adorn his slender wrists and a fine chain of bronze hangs around his neck. A bloated kes’trekel perches on his shoulder, its merciless golden eyes mirroring those of its master.
Most people spending any length of time in contact with him find the royal sorcerer quietly unnerving. His hooded eyes seem to miss nothing and their utterly black pupils seem to suck in the light, not reflect it. A slight smile constantly plays on his lips, as if at some private joke, and he occasionally talks aloud to himself in the short, staccato bursts of spell mnemonics.
Masut is seriously unbalanced, terminally ambitious and very, very intelligent. He constantly observes and probes for weakness, silently collecting and compiling potentially useful information for later use. His contact in the slums allow him to hear information that most within the templarate find hard to acquire, and he frequently calls upon his contacs in the less savory parts of town to spy upon, intimidate or, if necessary, eliminate rivals. He is motivated by an intense addiction to defiling and is constantly on the lookout for new spells and items to increase his power. He is also addicted to various rare narcotics which he procures through Nayike, an acquaintance and occasional lover.
Again, all feedback and contributions would be greatly appreciated. Any ideas you have, characters you would like to share, thoughts on character builds in general etc.
What I envision is an elven bazaar;) of Athasian characters of every possible description from which DMs can draw inspiration and stats to enhance their own campaigns :D.
I will begin by posting the cast Im developing for my upcoming campaign.
P.S sorry for the lengthy post
Chahir
Preamble
(11th day, 5th week of sun ascending, year of Friend’s Vengeance, 190th King’s Age)
You should know that I who write this am Caheris of Thuracles, youngest son of senator Kasenna, whose words are close to the heart of mighty Kalak. My family wields great influence, wealth and prestige, which is only just in view of our long and distinguished record of service to the city. Our estates are prosperous and the granaries of Thuracles brim with faro. Healthy slaves work the fields and vineyards, herd livestock and excavate cisterns while sturdy, devoted mamluks stand ever ready to give their lives for the greater glory of the behir rampant which flies from the turrets of our gatehouse.
Given all this, you might be forgiven for wondering why I, a noble in good standing and decorated officer of the household guard, would go gallivanting off into the barrens with a rag-tag group of commoners, one of whom is an elf?
Alas, as is so often the case, the wheels of fortune’s chariot turned in unforeseeable ways. Following a dispute with my father concerning various gambling debts and an exquisite half-elven courtesan who shall remain nameless, I was told, in no uncertain terms, to make myself scarce until he could be trusted not to react to my presence like a flogged baazrag.
Grabbing the inix by the tail, I decided to take to the roads and shake the dust of my home from my feet and commence upon a grand peregrination of the Tablelands, for the benefit and edification of those people of quality fortunate enough to read of my travels. And also, I confess, to mollify my dear father with the many exotic gifts which I shall doubtlessly encounter on my travels...
Normally the characters write themselves quickly after I get inspired by something, so it doesnt usually take me more than a half hour to flesh a character out. As often as possible, I try to use real world equivalents to give the NPC that added depth. For example, In writing up the next character in the character vignettes series, a devious bard, purveyor of pleasure and pain haunting the darkest shadows of the Urik underworld, I take my cues from closest real-life equivalents; hustlers, pimps, poisoners and prostitutes :D !
Also, the TV series Rome has provided me with virtually endless character archetypes that can be placed into Athas with minimal alteration. Definitely worth checking out even if only for the gorgeous sets which really give one the flavour of the warrens.
Chahir
For my summer one-shot (which I'm in the process of writing up as a short story), it took me about 6 weeks to come up with the 4 main characters and plot. I'd say at least 4 of those weeks were just researching the old Dark Sun materials and coming up with story elements.
I would be very interested in hearing about your 4 characters BTW :D
In the meanwhile, let the diary excrepts of Caheris continue...
(11th day, 5th week of sun ascending, year of Friend’s Vengeance, 190th King’s Age)
I cautiously took my leave from the Thuracles estate just as the dawn reveille rang to summon the field slaves from their hovels. Being pressed for time, I only grabbed what I deemed absolutely necessary: my loyal body-slave, Eskil, two riding kanks, my second best cloak, an erdlu scale corselet, a finely matched sword and dirk of inix bone, a steel-tipped lance, and a purse woefully deficient in silver.
I was immediately resolved to repair to the wine-shops of Tyr to brace myself with a few jars of the finest Balican red while I contemplated my next move. Eskil, typically, would give me no peace, caterwauling endlessly about the dangers of the wastes and begging me to go back and throw myself on my father’s good nature. Not being in the mood for such nonsense, I was just about to clout him with my kank prod when I heard noises emanating from over the next rise. Urging my kank to a run, I crested the knoll to be faced with a group of repulsive gith surrounding a young woman, using their jagged obsidian spears to jab at her before capering out of reach with their long, twisted legs. A thin, cruel weal on her forearm bled profusely and her face bore a look of primal terror.
Kicking my mount into motion, I couched my lance and aimed at the largest of the gith; an ugly brute with a crude chitin breastplate. The creature spotted me too late, its bulging, lidless eyes registering shock and surprise as my lance pierced pieced its ribs and sent it hurtling into the dust. Turning around, I unsheathed my sword and parried a blow from another of the gith, easily blocking its clumsy thrust and bashing its leering face with my shield. The foul thing fell to the ground twitching. Just as I was about to call for the woman to flee while I dispatched the rest of the scaly rabble, I saw a flash of light pulsing from her eyes just over my shoulder, dropping one that was in the process of trying to brain me with a spiked club. The beast let out a muffled shriek before it collapsed, blood pouring from its mouth and nose. Their leader dead and confronted with a mind-bender, the remaining gith took to their heels, bounding across the scrub plains with surprising agility. Winded and flushed with victory, I let them go, turning to regard the girl.
She was a vision. Skin of the smoothest mahogany, long midnight hair and a body like a trade lord's concubine, though her clothes and comportment were those of a freewoman. Judging from her features she was Draji, but her voice carried no hint of an accent when she thanked me for coming to her rescue. I assured her that it was nothing and added that a band of gith had been raiding our fields for a while now, and that the eradication of such creatures was nothing less than my duty. I also commended her on her mind-bending assault on the gith and invited her to travel on with me to the city, since that seemed to be where she was going. To be frank, at that moment, looking at her slightly crooked smile and dark, liquid eyes, I believe I would gladly have followed her across the Silt Sea on foot if she had but asked me to. She graciously accepted and, after binding her wounds and taking a bit of water from the full waterskin hanging from my saddle we were on our way, a less-than pleased Eskil scurrying to keep up with the swift kanks on the hard, even road...
"The Jade Jozhal" rings like a typical athasian tavern name, conveying the idea of a tavern trollop -- a rougher image that clashes with the smoother vision of the the rest of the text. I'd substitute something smoother like "body of a Trade Lord's concubine."
Second, I think that false modesty "it was nothing" feels out of place, that someone in that culture should be accepting the praise proudly, not deflecting it. (IIRC this sort of anachronism is one frequent historian's criticism of the show Rome -- false modesty hadn't yet crept in from the East). I'd adapt the lines starting with "I assured her" to
"I replied that eradication of such vermin was nothing less than my duty. I praised her mind-bending assault on the gith, and invited her to travel on with me to the city."
She was a vision. Skin of the smoothest mahogany, long midnight hair and a body like a pleasure-slave from the Jade Jozhal, though her clothes and comportment were those of a freewoman. Judging from her features she was Draji, but her voice carried no hint of an accent when she thanked me for coming to her rescue. I assured her that it was nothing and added that a band of gith had been raiding our fields for a while now, and that the eradication of such creatures was nothing less than my duty. I also commended her on her mind-bending assault on the gith and invited her to travel on with me to the city, since that seemed to be where she was going. To be frank, at that moment, looking at her slightly crooked smile and dark, liquid eyes, I believe I would gladly have followed her across the Silt Sea on foot if she had but asked me to. She graciously accepted and, after binding her wounds and taking a bit of water from the full waterskin hanging from my saddle we were on our way, a less-than pleased Eskil scurrying to keep up with the swift kanks on the hard, even road...
The false modesty is an integral part of Caheris' character: a strange combination of caddishness and naive gallantry that has left him much less corrupt than most of his peers (and much less adept at the political infighting that is expected of him), not because of any inherent strength of character but simply because he is oblivious on so many levels. Also, he is not exactly thinking straight :D
Moving on...
We talked as we rode, and I learnt more of my delightful companion. Her name was Xinnara, confirming my initial suspicions about her origin, though she told me she had come to Tyr with her family when she was very young and had never seen the gore-encrusted pyramid of two moons.
She was, she said, returning from visiting the man who had mentored her in the Way. The old man was ailing and had retired to live out his last days among his family, a douar of herders who periodically grazed their herds at the edge of Tyr’s verdant belt.
I cautioned her that it was not wise to travel alone in such unsettled times, even for one schooled in the Way, to which she replied with nothing but a vaguely mocking smile.
Xinnara seemed happy enough to converse, and I spoke freely of my lineage and exploits, omitting only certain inconsequential details, such as the real reason for my departure, the nature of my conflict with my family and my liking for half-elven courtesans.
When she asked what I planned to do now, I confessed that I hadn’t thought on it a great deal (or at all, I heard Eskil muttering as he hustled alongside the kanks) and supposed that I would occupy myself as best I could until my sire’s anger had died down. Perplexed, she looked towards Eskil, who gingerly told me that she was referring to what I was going to do to support myself. I laughingly assured her that I had several friends who would happily support me while I waited for the air to clear.
In short order, the city gates loomed before us, and we entered through the towering arches with nothing more than a summary glance and wave by the gate-keeping templars, though Xinnara seemed anxious and kept her head downcast while we passed them.
As usual, the city was packed, and Eskil was hard pressed to clear a path for us through the sweating throng after we had left the kanks to be fed and watered at a hostelry off the trade way.
Xinnara said she had things to attend to, thanked me profusely for my help and was about to take her leave before I managed to persuaded her, through considerable perseverance, to call upon me at my lodgings at the House of Na’af, a moderately lavish inn in the Merchants quarter I frequented for its excellent wines and discreet proprietor. Normally, of course, I would stay are the family villa, but considering the circumstances, Na’af’s was the best that could be done.
Later, sitting in a cool gallery overlooking the bustling heart of the city, my hand around a chilled goblet of strong Balican red and a platter of spiced erdlu skewers, wafer thin faro bread and fresh slices of cabra melon before me, I busied myself with thinking about what to do next.
I had sent Eskil to see which of my friends were in the city with directions to meet me at the Red Kank in the evening. Despite my earlier words to Xinnara, I had my fair share of doubts about whether they would be willing to lend me money, and my purse was disturbingly light after I had paid for the kank hostelry and Na’af’s peerless hospitality in hard coin.
About the Templar/Psion Orjaan of Styaraxes, you can use something like this for him, to enhance his psionic abilities.
Templar 4/Psion 3/Psychic Theurge 8/Yellow Robe 5.
With this build he'll have a CL of 15 and a ML of 11. The Psychic Theurge is a "divine version" of the Cerebremancer, and you can find it here http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/psm/20040925b
I think that it's also a perfect PrC for aspiring Elemental Advanced Beings (I cannot wait for Legends of Athas ;))
Keep going with the character vignettes, Chahir, fot it is great ;)
I have been kinda occupied lately and so have not been able to update at all. Well, no time like the present (though I doubt my employer would agree ;) )
Cozaar
Nibenese psionic mercenary and bodyguard
(N human male Ftr2/Psywar8)
A wiry individual whose round face is pitted by the scars of a long ago disease, Cozaar is decidedly unimpressive at first glance and cultivates this image by dressing in a dark cape and nondescript linen sarami of indeterminate hue.
It is only after some observation that one notices the deadly poise and power emanating from his every movement and the glint of fierce intelligence in his narrow eyes. For many would-be adversaries, this realisation has come far too late.
Despite his deceptively nonthreatening appearance, Cozaar's is a finely honed killing machine. A finely balanced obsidian bladed gythka rests on his shoulder, its haft decorated with carvings of sinuous female dancers. A breastplate of burnished Ankheg shell incised with the crest of house Shom is worn beneath his loose cape, and a pair of wickedly barbed chatcka throwing wedges are tuckend into his broad sash. His only concession to vanity is a heavy plug of carved bronze pirecing his right ear.
Cozaar was born into servitude, trained from infancy as a slave soldier in the hellish training pits of house Lubar. Rebelling against the harsh discipline and undending punishment, he escaped his bondage and found his way to the monastery of the Exalted Path, where he trained in Gythka forms under the Tohr-Kreen master Ch'r'ka. His restless nature and ambition drove him to leave after the death of the venerable Tohr-Kreen, and he currently wanders the ivory triangle selling his skills to the highest bidder. After a recent engagement with a client who turned out to be a hidden defiler, he is even more wary of magic than most people and will never willingly serve a wizard.
Nayike
Courtesan, spy and occasional assassin
NE half-elf female Bard 3/Psion(telepath)2
As comfortable flitting gracefully amidst the clamour of rowdy wineshops and the unquiet shadows of Urik's seedy underworld as she is entertaining nobles in their perfumed atriums, Nayike provides a vision of beauty, compassion truth to those who wish to momentarily escape the suffering and cruelty that blight their hardscrabble lives. For a price.
Nayike is an amazing vocalist, whether her haunting, ethereal voice is raised in a half-remembered elven ballad of love and loss or the latest raunchy barroom ditty, and has been known to reduce a taproom of surly dwarven porters to tears with her rendition of the Fall of Kemalok.
Although she is accomplished with many insturments, Nayike prefers to be accompanied by Fanan (NG human male exp 2), a slight boy who plays his erdlu-bone pipes with a virtuosity that would be remarkable in one five times his age. Despite her generally callous outlook, Nayike is extremely fond of Fanan and will go out of her way to make life difficult for anyone who bothers him.
Nayike dresses to impress, draping her svelte form in costly Raamin silks and accentuating her excuisitely slender, elven neck with finely wrought necklaces and chokers of expensive Draji beads or silver.
As with many helf-elves, her face is a disconcertingly beautiful combination of two races, with arching elven brows, a full, human mouth and enourmous, innocent tourmaline eyes accented with kohl. Her midnight hair is worn in two queues that fall to below her waist and are held up by hairpins of the finest blue jade (which she can use as keen MW daggers, often dipped in poison).
Nayike lives for her job, providing her exclusive clientele with entertainment and milking them for information which she sells to interested parties. Her time is expensive (20cp and up for a private performance) and she is often booked solid for weeks at a time). She is currently conducting affairs with a number of nobles and merchants (notably the heir apparent to House Resherek) but is deeply in love with Masut (see above in this thread) although she is loath to admit this even to herself. She can be contacted through the House of Zarul, an upscale wineshop in the tradesmans district.
As an assassin she is very careful, prefers to use poisoned smokesticks disguised with incense rather than violence to incapacitate her foes. If she has need for the latter, she calls upon Rys (CE Mul male Ftr2/Gld2)-a hulking, sadistic former gladiator who obeys her implicitly because he is addicted to the drugs she provides him with.
Once again, I urge any and all of you to share your characters/NPCs in the name of DM solidarity.:D
Chahir
http://geocities.yahoo.com/gb/view?member=lastard
Lastard >8)
Your site is very cool! I cant believe that I hadnt come across it before. Especially your character illustrations (any chance of getting more of those?) and the selection of names, which are always useful.
Here ya go
Kezo
halfling tracker and guide
(CG halfling male scout 5/highland stalker3)
init +4
HD 8d8+8; hp 44
SV fort 5 ref 9 will 4
Spd 30ft
AC 19/20 (+1 size, +4 dex, +4 hide corselet, +1 skirmish); touch 15,flat footed 15
Base Atk +7, Grapple +6
Atk: +6(+1 keen small bone shortsword 17-20/x2) 1d4+3
Ranged: +11(+2 str bonus small composite shortbow) 1d4+2 or ranged +12 (sling) 1d4+2
Str 14 Dex 18 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 14 Cha 8
Skills: Balance +8 Climb +14 Hide +20 Jump +8 Knowledge (nature) +8 Listen +14 Move silently +18 Survival +12 Spot +14
Feats: Alertness, Keen eared Scout, Track
SA: skirmish +3d6, +1 AC
SQ: swift tracker
Considered a hunting prodigy even among his own forest dwelling people, Kezo has been raised in harmony with the land from his earliest years and is completely at home in the Athasian wastes. Those being stalked by the wily halfling will not even know that they are prey until they feel the bite of a tiny flint-tipped arrow, fletched with hummingbird feathers and glinting with poison. Kezo normally acquires the poison from a thri-kreen druid he befriended after protecting her grove from a voracious defiler, and prefers either baby wasp venom (injury DC18 paralysis/0) or diamondback adder venom (injury DC 17 1d6 con/1d6 con).
Kezo was among the halfling trackers sent to serve in Hamanu's army by chief Urga-Zoltapl, but deserted in disgust after realising that his chief was betraying the forest spirits by granting the aid of Ogo warriors to a monster like the Lion King in return for obsidian to fuel his own lust for power.
Kezo is typical of his kind, standing about 3 1/2 feet tall with bronzed skin and the face of a wise, beautiful child (even though he is in his late 30s), marred only by the faint traceries of oath-scars on his cheeks (attesting that he will not return to Ogo until he is fit to be chief and challenge Urga-Zoltapl). A thick matted mane of coppery hair frames his face, held back by a length of finely dyed Urikite linen. Otherwise, his dress is simple; tanned leather moccasins, a breechcloth and finely wrought corselet of Braxat hide specially handed down to him by his father.
Although Kezo is still suspicious of non-halflings a year into his stay in the tablelands, he is slowly becoming less wary, and is now unlikely to hunt sentient beings unless they engage in behavior he finds unacceptable (defiling and slave-taking being the most notable).
When he's feeling particularly bored, Kezo often shadows travelers and steals into camps to pilfer supplies just to keep his skills sharp. He never takes so much that the victim is sure to die, and sometimes even leaves payment in the form of game or chipped ceramics (the remnants of his pay in Urik).
Like most halflings, Kezo cannot comprehend the idea of a salary, viewing it as a form of slavery. Instead, he will freely help those he sees as being worthy or those he thinks might be interested in aiding him in his eventual aim of overthrowing Urga-Zoltapl, who he feels has betrayed his people.
Hooks:
'Big people slow and clumsy, always sweating, stumbling and breathing loud like mekillot'
'No use running. Kezo find you, Kezo cath you, Kezo eat you.'
'Not all land is burnt like this. In my place, Ogo, water flows from the mountain in ice cold streams, humming birds dance on the wing and the earth breathes kindly on her true children. All is at peace.'
'You suck life out of plants, now me suck marrow out of you!'
Im going to roll 4d6, no rearranging and see what happens.
STR: 3,3,4,3=10 normal physique
DEX: 1,2,4,6=12 a bit more agile than most others
CON: 4,6,6,5=17 going to have to revise here, because despite his lack of muscle mass, this is one freakishly fit dude!
INT: 3,3,5,6=14 above average IQ
WIS: 1,1,3,4=8 quite oblivious to the world around him little common sense
CHA: 3,4,5,5=14 quite magnetic, with a powerful will
I think Ill use the Paizo rules for making this char just to try em out.
So... Ill go with human. +2 on int and +2 to con. Am I reading correctly that Athasian humans get +2 to 2 different abilities!
So there we have it; a slender, agile fellow with the lungs of a champion marathon runner, the immune system of a rhino and the brains of a college professor. And he's also good looking and well spoken. Truly, this is a fantasy game
In terms of class, psion seems the most appropriate with the human bonus PPs.
Merkanes, Balicite sell-mind working in the warrens of Tyr
N human male psion(telepath) 5 CR 6
Init: +1
AC:5d4+15 hp: 29
Fort:+5 Ref:+2 Will:+3
Speed: 30ft
Melee: +2 (puchik) 1d4/x3
Base Atk: +2 Grapple: +2
Abilities: Str 10 Dex 12 Con 19 Int 16 Wis 8 Cha 14
Feats: negotiator, overchannel, combat manifestation, talented, bodyfuel
Skills: concentration +12, bluff +10, gather information +10, diplomacy +12, sense motive +9, psicraft +11
Power points: 38
Powers known: 11 DC 13+level
1) control flames, charm, mindlink, deceleration, empathy, endure elements, force screen, mind thrust, far hand
2) control sound, read thoughts, suggestion, cloud mind, inflict pain
3) false sensory input, cerebral phantasm
Possessions: simple chiton, sandals, wide brimmed hat, fleece cloak, 3d6 cp 3d12 bits, wineskin of Balican red
Hooks:
'Tell me more'
'I may know of someone who can help you...'
'I dont do politics'
By the way, I just uploaded two new characters to the 'Other classes' section (a seer and a shapeshifter).
http://www.geocities.com/lastard/shapers.htm
Lastard >8)