[Characters] The Confirmation - Characters

[ScorchedOne]

Please copy paste your characters here, and be sure to include the following for chronicle sheets:
Pathfinder Number
Starting Experience / Gold / Prestige / Fame

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[Kylie]

Daisy Devy Name: Daisy Devy Race: Human Class: Paladin 1 Character Sheet: Attachment 65571 Deity: Shelyn Faction: Silver Crusades PFS#: 190220-02 XP: 0 / 3 GP: 2 Prestige: 0 Fame: 0 Strength 14 +2 Dexterity 14 +2 Constitution 12 +1 Intelligence 12 +1 Wisdom 7 -2 Charisma 18 +4 HP: 12/12, AC: 17, Touch 12, Flat-Footed 15, Init: +4 Feats: Power Attack, Combat Reflexes Skills (with Ranks): Diplomacy, Craft (Drawing), Knowledge (Religion), Perform (Strings) Weapons: Glaive, Longsword Armor & Shields: Scale Mail, Heavy Steel Shield Other Gear: Artisan Tools, Violin, Backpack, Belt Pouch (x2), Alchemist Fire (x2), Clerical Vestments, Wooden Holy Symbol of Shelyn Background Daisy grew up in a little town called "Belhaim" in the nation of Taldor. She was the second child, first daughter of Baroness Origena Devy. Since her brother, Arnholde followed her mother when in came to rulership. Daisy spent most of her time in the temple of Shelyn learning to hone her craft of drawing. She was a natural at performing with the violin and was quoted by several of the locals as 'blessed with the voice of Shelyn'. Her mother and brother who are worshippers of Abadar did not approval of Daisy's talents, did little to help those talents grow. She was always the free spirit of family and when she became of age, she left her small town life to go train with the Silver Crusaders. Personality Daisy is a calm lady who would much rather talk a person to death rather than exchanging blades. She hates the site of blood, and gets upset when a fight between two intelligent creatures could have been avoided. She loves conversation with other especially when the topics are love, art, or music. The only time you'll see her angry is when she creates a sub-par work of art or a performance. In combat, she's strong, defensive, and quick. However due to her aloof nature, she is easily fooled and unobservant. Description Daisy a striking beautiful young girl (19 years) her curvy features are well hidden in her scale mail armor. She constantly has glaive in her hands, the tip of her glaive has a rainbow feather. She carries her longsword at her side with two belt pouches and strapped on her back is her trusty heavy steel shield with backpack. Paladin Code I see beauty in others. As a rough stone hides a diamond, a drab face may hide the heart of a saint. I am peaceful. I come first with a rose rather than a weapon, and act to prevent conflict before it blossoms. I never strike first, unless it is the only way to protect the innocent. I accept surrender if my opponent can be redeemed—and I never assume that they cannot be. All things that live love beauty, and I will show beauty’s answer to them. I live my life as art. I will choose an art and perfect it. When I have mastered it, I will choose another. The works I leave behind make life richer for those who follow. I will never destroy a work of art, nor allow one to come to harm, unless greater art arises from its loss. I will only sacrifice art if doing so allows me to save a life, for untold beauty can arise from an awakened soul. I lead by example, not with my blade. Where my blade passes, a life is cut short, and the world’s potential for beauty is lessened.

[jm935]

Leopold Horn & Elizabeth Whiskerton, reporting for duty.

Leopold Horn & Elizabeth Whiskerton Name: Leopold Horn & Elizabeth Whiskerton Race/Class: Half-Elf Hunter Alignment: NG Faction: Liberty's Edge PFS Number: #60206-12 XP/Prestige/Fame/GP: —/—/—/150 starting gold Character Sheet: <Leopold & Elizabeth> Party Role: Melee combatant with animal companion Description/Background/Personality Description: Leopold Horn is not an especially remarkable fellow. Short-to-middling height, mud-brown hair, skin browned from the sun, eyes that show some wit but no special spark to draw a second glance. Leather armor, curved sword—pretty standard adventurer stuff. Really, you wouldn’t even notice Leo if it weren’t for the lion by his side. That’s Elizabeth. Try not to irritate her. Personality: Worshipper of Sarenrae, member of Liberty’s Edge—put those together and you’ve got a guy who gets riled up by relations of domination but who will at least try to talk folks out of their wickedness before he and Lizzie beat them up. He cares about Elizabeth’s safety more than his own and tends to be rather too trusting of others, no matter how many times he finds himself fooled. Background: The unwanted half-elven child of a middling member of the Lumber Consortium. Grew up traveling the woods of Andoran under the care of a rotating cast of tutors as his mother went about her business. One tutor, a worshipper of Sarenrae, drew his attention to the Consortium’s crueler practices—shocked by what he saw, Leopold came to adopt her faith and looked for his escape. He found his moment a couple years ago, slipping out of that week’s backwoods logging town in the middle of the night and inflicting such minor sabotages as he could on his way—mostly insignificant, except for the animals he managed to free from dismal captivity in the local potentate’s exotic menagerie. One of those animals was a young lioness who decided to adopt him. Leopold and Elizabeth have been inseparable since.

[Sassafrass]

Julien Cresthedge Julien Cresthedge "Wanna know the secret to magic?" Name Race/Class Lodge Alignment PS# Party Role Sheet Julien Cresthedge Halfling Arcanist Dark Archive Chaotic Neutral 16608-5 Troublemaker-manga-Occultist Complete Description: Hailing from Cheliax, Julien is a keeper to fashion, though he tends to have a few things consistent in all of his dress: his hair, brown, must be kept close to home, and never longer than the first visible spinal column on his neck. His green eyes must not be obscured, unless he is puking his guts out and the Absalom sun is burning his retinas. He always has his coat with him, a pale brown rain coat that reaches his calves. He always dresses in red and white. Always. He has a smoke in his mouth, generally an excellent Mwangi weed straight from the Shackles. And finally, around his neck is a gold coin of Cheliax, a few centuries out of date with a single hole punched through the top; across it in an orange-rust looking sigil that he cannot even begin to describe the origins of. The latter stays around him not because he wants it on, but simply that it does not come off. He refuses to answer any questions as to why. Personality: Julien is mercurial, ever-changing. A cynic, he does his best to disguise the fact that he is a Halfling and a hopeless romantic under layers and layers of insight about the world that does not scream to his distaste for the vast majority of it. In his spare time, he can be found reading, socializing with company that suits him, or drinking. Even when he is down, he prefers to drink that downward spiral away. Julien does not mince words, does not mind lying, does not mind cheating, and certainly does not care about the societal mores of anyone other than himself. His sensibilities are his own. His work is to the highest bidder, for now, and loyalties are easily bought. In the end he is loyal only to himself... unless someone gives him a reason to be otherwise. That said, he cares about his reputation and does his best to live up to it, and if nothing else, grow it. While well-read and knowledgeable, he still speaks as though he were part of the lower castes of Cheliax, and his accent is something he cannot shake, nor would he wish too. To him, everyone is a git. History: Julien condenses his past into three short phrases. He was a slave. He was "let go." And he's from Westcrown. He speaks no more of it. He has been in Absalom for exactly two years, courting any mage worth their weight in Keleshite salt, learning knicks and nacks of the trade. He has a reputation for getting the job done, getting it done effectively, but not always to the liking of his employers. Sometimes terms change midway through, and though his work so far has been sporadic and hardly taxing, the mercenary in Julien has turned him to working for the Pathfinder Society, as a favor to some of the more Chelaxian of the Society. He proudly touts his membership in the Dark Archives, especially if it annoys another.

[mightymconeshot]

Name:Husk- 56334-3
Race:Half-Orc
Class:Skald
Faction: The Exchange

Personality Husk is a simple man. Or half man anyway. He loves a good fight, a good beer, and a good woman. And loves the Exchange and by extension the Guild as giving him an opportunity to live that life. Sure, being adventurers was dangerous work, but so was being a bouncer. This way instead of making a few gold a week, he could make hundreds for one mission. It was his dream come true. Husk often throws caution to the wind when in the field, often to the chagrin of some of his companions, but they always come out the other side okay minus a few nicks here and there. The best groups for him are often the other fighters, bards, and barbarians and he finds the dour wizards and clerics he is occasionally paired with as a wet towel on his fun. Still, they are all comrades and he will risk life and limb to defend them.

Appearance:Husk is a short half-orc but still massive by human standards. Standing only 6'2" he weighs in at an impressive 220 pounds of muscle. His orchish heritage is immediately apparent with his light green skin, jutting tusks, and red eyes. He is a little intimidating at appearance, but is quick to laugh and makes friends with just about anyone who gets within arm range. He picked up his ancestral weapon, the double axe, and prefers to lead his comrades into the thick of the fighting. Sporting embellished armor, he has a pack festooned with various equipment like rope, crowbars, and other random adventuring nick knacks. At the campfire, and he always insists on one, he always manages to discover a flask or two of hard drink which is passed around as he roars his songs into the dark night before going to sleep.

Background:He grew up in the city as part of the poor but did rather okay for himself. Several local owners and bars took a liking to the scrappy half orc and gave him odd jobs sweeping out their shops or cutting meat in the back for the cook. So he usually managed to pull several square meals a day and a few coppers or silvers to bring back to his family. As he grew older, he grew bigger and tougher until eventually he ended up in the front as a weird combination act. He had picked up a variety of songs and performance acts so he was moved into the front as a performance act. He would go sing songs that would get people rowdy and a fight would break out. At which point he would lead the bouncers in song to clear them out at which point he would go back. At the end of night of this weird fight/song/fight, he would get his smattering of coin and head home. So he spent his teenage and early life. Eventually he heard of this organization, or well he already knew of it from the many patrons in the bars, but finally decided to go see what they were about himself. Moving over to the Exchange headquarters, who he heard was all about the coin, he listened to a recruiters spiel and signed at the dotted line. They pegged hims a skald, which was fine by him, and rounded out some skills he lacked. After training him for several months on his magical abilities, real weapons, and some armor skills he was sent off to the headquarters for his first assignment.

[sertaki]

Shelya Name: Shelya Race/Class: Human Bard (Archeologist) 1 Alignment: NG Deity: Shelyn Faction: Silver Crusade Society No: # 93773-6 Experience: 0 Fame/Prestige: 0 Gold: 14 gp Description: Shelya is a young attractive woman with flowing silken black hair and green eyes, and while she doesn't sport the bulk of a gladiator, she is quite able to protect herself. She wears an old set of leather armor, reinforced in some places with metal plates, which seems to have been in use for quite some time, but apparently not all of it by her, as it is a little to big for her. She has a bow sticking out of her backpack, and holds a glaive as other would a walking staff. The blade is well sharpened, and bears the holy symbol of Shelyn. On her head she wears a broad-rimmed hat made of many different colorful straps that dance madly when she moves. The colors are slightly faded and the hat might have seen many a year under the burning sun of Varisia. A long violet feather sticks out from it. Background: Shelya grew up as the daughter of a single mother in the slums of Riverport. Her mother was a cutthroat and thief, low in the picking order of that cursed city, and they lived mostly in poverty - she even used her own daughter as a distraction to pick the pockets of strangers who did not know what they had gotten into when they entered this wretched port. In these years, Shelya learned much of the thieves' trade - but she never liked to use these skills for her own gain. It was nessecary to survive and she knew it, but her mother always took opportunities to get more - even if the poor victim found herself on the edge of starvation afterwards. The conditions under which Shelya grew up made her miserable, and she withdrew socially, becoming a quiet wallflower that shunned contact with most of those who her mother called friends and associates. She did however love to watch the bards sing and dance in the taverns of the city's central parts and the harbour - the best hunting grounds. Shelya always tried to find a reason to stay longer in a tavern or on a crowded place than was safe while doing their dirty craft - but her mother wanted none of it and so the girl had to leave the beauty behind and live in the shadows. One day she met a travelling elven priest, clad in fine robes and wearing the most extravagant hat she ever saw, a cacophony of colors - she swore to see them change whenever she pulled her eyes away. She was fascinated and did the only thing she knew well - she tried to steal it. But the man was not the typical slow-witted merchant, he had the senses of a cat. He grabbed her hand when she reached for it from the roof of a market stand, and then suddenly pulled her into his arms with an elegant flourish. "Stealing what one admires is wrong. See the beauty and cherish it, but never take it away or destroy it, girl. A much wiser action would be to study it's shape and making, and to make a copy of the thing oneself - or even improve upon the original design." There was no anger in his voice, and a knowing smile accompanied his speech. Shelyn was trembling from fear - such an agile and strong man could beat her to a pulp or drag her to the authorities with ease. But he did nothing of this sort. The priest - Alvarim - saw the love of beauty in her eyes and accepted her struggle with what is right - after all not everyone is born into riches and can live the way she liked. He told the girl of Shelyn and her teachings, he even tried to tailor a hat with her - the one on his head was of his own making, as were his clothes. But she proved to have no talents in such things. They met several times during the two weeks he was in town and awaiting a new client - he specialized as a bodyguard for rich artists - and Alvarim led her to experiment with different art styles so that she might also make beautiful things. Thanks to him she was able to find in herself a great aptitude for the brush, and she very swiftly learned the basic painting techniques he taught her. He also made her try out different musical instruments, and to her astonishment she had quite the gift for music. Surprisingly, her own voice proved to be the one she most easily learned to control. She would have never thaugt herselft to be able of producing such loving melodies and songs. When Alvarim finally left Riddleport, he even gave his wonderful hat to her as a gift. "You canot give it to me! It must be worth a fortune, with the magic it contains. And I tried to steal it which was wrong." she said in shame, but Alvarim just laughed it off and told the girl what the hat truly was - just a fancy hat. He had used his own gift for illusion magic to make it more impressive and to bring joy to the people who saw it. With this last gift, the artistic training he put her through, and a few other well-chosen words, Alvarim sowed the seed of a growing fascination in the girl for all that is beautiful. She started to talk with travelling bards whenever possible, learning a few tricks here and there, even joining some of them as a singer. Her mother caught on soon enough and wanted to exploit the poor girl's talent - not that she finally had come out of the shell. Shelya had enough and ran away. She felt pressured by her mother's way of life more and more and this was the final straw. She would sing and dance, but not for money alone. She would do it to bring joy to people! She joined a group of travelling varisian bards and left the next morning, only taking with her what was necessary - but also Alvarim's hat. After almost a year of country-festivals and tavern music, they came upon a small temple of Shelyn that was in search of helping hands - some of the clergy was killed when they defended the village against a goblin raid. Shelya chose to leave her friends and stay, studying Shelyn's ways and hoping to atone for the sins she commited under her mother's rule. There she stayed another year, learning the healer's craft and even discovering a hidden power in her to stop the most grievous wounds with a mere touch. Shelyn must have bestowed upon her a miniscule divine spark and she felt truly happy. When the head priest had found a replacement, he suggested to her leaving the temple in favor of a life on the road once again. He was very vocal in persuading her to embark on this journey - seeing in her much potential to bring joy to people and ease their suffering, but more than this he saw in her a person that wanted to protect and help more directly than she was able to here. She protested at first, citing her many sinful acts in the past, but the man ensured her that it was important who she is and who she will be - not what person she once was or a need for atonement she burdened herself with. And so Shelya went southwards to Magnimar, where she joined the Pathfinder Society!

[Jarl11]

Rhaz & Glen Name: Rhazl the Wonderful Race/Class: Human Shaman of the Heavens, with his trusty companion Jumpy Glen Alignment: NG Faction: Grand Lodge PFS Number: #150014-3 Character Sheet: Rhazl and Glen XP: 0 / 3 GP: 12.19 Prestige: 0 Fame: 0 Party Role: Mystic enthusiast of all flavours. Spiritual, divine, psychedelic, maybe a little arcane. Spell guru. Description/Background/Personality Description: Wearing bright colors with scraggly never-combed hair, this human dresses like an elf that never visited a proper society. Ladies probably think he looks exotic while men would find he looks odd or out of place. Simple robes with hand drawn tattoos adorn his body leaving his skin nearly bare. His skin is tanned from years outside but his strength is poor (even though he may look thin, he's not strong). Deep grey eyes shine with keen understanding but he displays very little formal schooling. He has a favorite antler cap that his shaman master and adopted father made for him, which he hangs various object on from time to time as dictated by the season and his inner mystic voice. Personality: Rhazl is a bit of a mystic nerd. He doesn't believe in a sole god or in one way of doing things but he does believe in the laws of nature and the power of magic. Magic. There is a topic that can keep him talking for hours. Unfortunately. This human was raised by barbaric elves and is socially awkward as a result. However, he is a good looking lad and quite charming if someone happens to be into the same things as him (essentially anything non-physical). Common sense is his wisdom and he struggles to shape the universe in the manner that befits him. He does not aim to fit himself into any particular mold for power, but to harness the power of magic and nature through his own force of will. Background: His parents were likely very powerful. He wouldn't know as he never met them but the tribe says he has magic in his blood, and picking up tricks did always come easy to him. Rhazl was abandoned, or maybe lost in another manner, when he was an infant. His family became the Qui'sari Jungle Elves that found him. They raised him as one of their own and taught him all about the beautiful stars and the heavens above. He was the shaman's apprentice until not long ago. Having grown much quicker than their own people, he was outgrowing everyone around him and his wise master told him that he needed to discover life as a human. Understanding, Rhazl set about saying goodbye, along with his trusty hare Glen, and made his way to the nearby island where he found Absalom. One of the travelers he met along the way had given him the name of someone to talk to in a society called the Grand Lodge...