[PF-1e] Severed Bonds

[Ermine]

I really want to try the spheres of power stuff, but don't understand it at all. Currently reading more about it. As of right now, I'm still working on my same character, too, but I don't know how all those spell-like abilities work alongside Spherecasters. I might have to make a new character >< If I do, Alteration, Creation, Time, and Warp spheres look fun, as do the Incanter, the Reaper, and the Thaumaturge. I don't HAVE to take an arcane tradition, do I? (And I can make my own if I do, right?)

Edit: I think I understand it now? But arcane tradition questions still stand. Also, think I'll go Incanter if you don't want me using all the spell-like abilities Magical Tail and Drow Nobility lines grant and JUST want spherecasting. (And as an Incanter, that's a LOT of spheres and/or talents to pick O.o)

[Muggins]

Ermine, consider the rules provided by Spheres of Power for alternative racial traits, which replace certain magical features of Paizo's races with more compatible versions. For Kitsune with Magical Tails, for example, you can choose to gain extra spell points instead of the spell like abilities.

[Ermine]

While really cool, I planned on taking Witchmarked and Innate Curse for tails anyway for the new one. (Plus the old one was TECHNICALLY half-elf)

Any chance, as it says it's up to the GM, that I could take a drawback feat instead of a boon? (Specifically Curse Mastery) I really like this character (Miira), and it fits with backstory (I'll take it as a regular feat if you say no, so it's not a huge deal).

[Runetide]

Intersted! I'll think up a concept and put together an app here.

Application Making a Gnoll! (using the race build as per Advanced Race Guide, link to build Here) Name: Tsieng Mirefangs (T-see-ng) Race: Gnoll Gender: Female Age: 18 Class: Brawler (snakebite striker AT) Spheres: I would like to use vanilla brawler if possible! (gotta have a baseline somewhere, right?) Physical Description: Art is not 100% accurate, ofc. hard to find gnoll art you know? A young female gnoll with golden fur dappled with black spots. She has decorated her exposed fur with bright colored paint over her shoulders and muzzle. She wears surprisingly civilized clothing for one of her kind, including well kept armor and spiked gauntlets on her hands. Her ears are pierced with an eclectic collection of rings of different metals. Personality/Quirks/Likes/Fears: Tsieng doesn't get along with other, what she sees as 'uncivilized', gnolls. She likes feeling strong, but that is almost always in conflict with her desire to be liked by other humanoids. She knows people think badly of her for being born a gnoll, but she's going to try to take the high road when dealing with them, try being the operative word. Background: Once a full on follower of the older ways: Slavery, eating any sentient, and raiding for a living. She gave up that life when she was younger when she realized that it would be easier to get ahold of these things they were taking if instead she just lived with the civilized folks. Tsieng worked as a bouncer, hired muscle, and has actively fought others of her kind, though sometimes it's just snarling and shouting angrily at each other.

[Ermine]

Heheh. I had a snakebite striker brawler until I made a new character. It's good to see it might still happen~

[SharkBait]

Originally Posted by Seasons End

The latter I think

The latter is totally fine by me.

Originally Posted by Ermine

I really want to try the spheres of power stuff, but don't understand it at all. Currently reading more about it. As of right now, I'm still working on my same character, too, but I don't know how all those spell-like abilities work alongside Spherecasters. I might have to make a new character >< If I do, Alteration, Creation, Time, and Warp spheres look fun, as do the Incanter, the Reaper, and the Thaumaturge. I don't HAVE to take an arcane tradition, do I? (And I can make my own if I do, right?)

Edit: I think I understand it now? But arcane tradition questions still stand. Also, think I'll go Incanter if you don't want me using all the spell-like abilities Magical Tail and Drow Nobility lines grant and JUST want spherecasting. (And as an Incanter, that's a LOT of spheres and/or talents to pick O.o)

You don't have to take a tradition. If you want to make your own, run it by me first.

Originally Posted by Ermine

While really cool, I planned on taking Witchmarked and Innate Curse for tails anyway for the new one. (Plus the old one was TECHNICALLY half-elf)

Any chance, as it says it's up to the GM, that I could take a drawback feat instead of a boon? (Specifically Curse Mastery) I really like this character (Miira), and it fits with backstory (I'll take it as a regular feat if you say no, so it's not a huge deal).

That would be fine.

[Ermine]

I have the tradition in the app already.

[Kshnik]

Withdrawing. Going to use this concept for another game.

[DAquilina]

Question: You said that legendary talents require a feat to access. What feat is that, and when would it become available? I don't think it makes sense to have one in my base build, but there is a legendary talent that would be good to come online in a few levels.

Application complete!

Bloodclaw Bloodclaw - Crushing Juggernaut The Killer of Katapesh "For the Golden Eagles! Wait, that's what you call me?" Race: Gnoll Sex: Male Class: Equipment, Brute spheresStriker Age: 21 Height: 7'2" Weight: 294lb

Shock and Awe   "DEXTER BARTHOLOMEW FURLOW!" The shriek from the main room jerked Bloodclaw from his work, sending a streak of black ink across the page before him in a chaotic splash. He scrunched his brow, disappointed in the ruined design, but the voice of his mother was not to be ignored, and so he pushed it aside and got to his feet. "BLOODCLAW!? My dear, baby child, after all of the time we spent raising you and caring for you... They call you Bloodclaw!? You'll give your poor mother a heart attack. They say you're a killer! Is this what you've become? What will the cleric say!?" He sighed, stifling a chuckle at the woman's worry, but barely able to contain it when his father ambled behind with a shake of the head. "Your mother's right, son. That's a pretty vicious moniker you've got. It's not a good look for the species, you know?" "It's not like that, mom, I promise." "Not like that!? How could it possibly be anything else? My baby, what did they turn you in to!" The gnoll maiden elicited a shriek of a sob before falling backwards onto the couch behind her, one hand pressed dramatically to her forehead and the other still clutching the parchment she'd been reading. "My own child, a KILLER! What a terrible mother I must be to have allowed this to happen! What will the neighbours think?" Bloodclaw shook his head. He made his way over to the chaise and plopped down beside his mother, wrapping her in his massive arms and dropping his head to her shoulder. The latter action had the added benefit of also allowing him to read the notice: an announcement in the local news about his new appointment as a lieutenant in the Golden Eagles. --------- GOLDEN LIONS; BREAKING A new lieutenant enters the ranks Bloodclaw The Killer of Katapesh Immediate appointment on this day, heading warband operations in the eastern district. We expect great things. ---------- He frowned at the sheet. The killer of Katapesh? That seems needlessly harsh. The warrior straightened with a sigh, patting his poor mother on the back with his apparently "bloody" claws. Part of him found it ironic that they were stained with ink instead, but such was the life of a mercenary. "They just gave me that name so that I would sound intimidating. A merchant caravan is more likely to hire 'Bloodclaw the killer' than 'Dexter the artist' if they need protection. You sent me to the academy to train and now I have a really promising career, but I promise I haven't killed anyone, mom. That's not the type of gnoll that I am." The woman sniffed and nuzzled her head into her son's chest, wiping her snout on the fabric. "I know, gnollish term of endearmentKreshta. Mother raised you better than that. But how could they say such things about my boy? It's not right. They can't see you the way I see you." "In their defense, there's a lot of me to see," he said with a laugh. "If we're being perfectly honest with ourselves, I definitely look more like a Bloodclaw than a Dexter or a Bartholomew. And it's that look and that reputation that will keep me safe when I'm out there patrolling the streets. I hate to say it, but if people are scared of me then they aren't going to want any trouble, and if there's no trouble, there's no danger. We fight when we have to, but the job is safety. I promise I'll stay safe for you mom, and for dad. You have my word."

A Different Sort of Gnoll   The dwarf's booming laughter resonated throughout the hall as he rocked back in his thick wooden chair. The thing strained under his bulk, but as a testament to his station it was as solidly built as the man himself, as certainly appeared to be holding up better than the various candelabras rattling in the rafters of the Golden Eagles guild room. The latter seemed to struggle to remain in place with each heave of the captain's barrel chest. "I'm glad you find this so amusing." Bloodclaw sat opposite the captain, face locked in an almost-bored frown as an outward expression of just how [I]un[/I[amused the gnoll was about the situation. "The Killer of Katapesh? Really? My poor mother nearly fainted when she saw that. I think you took that too far." "Bah, you'll have you get over yerself, boy. That's the way o' things 'round here." Stonewall claps his hands to the mahogany desk after wiping mirthful tears from his eyes, now burning with both confidence and mischief. He'd been the captain of the Eagles going on 80 years now, so it was very likely this was a conversation he'd had plenty of times before. "Ya move up, ya need to command some respect. That's just how it works. Now yer species ain't exactly long fer life, so even though ya more n' earned yer spot as lieutenant, y'ain't been round long enough for them out there to know that. We're just givin' ya a little push. No shortage o' jobs fer BLOODCLAW!" He emphasized the last point with a sweeping motion, bringing his hands to the sky and shaking his fingers dramatically. "I know, I get that, cap. I understand where you're coming from. It's just that we gnolls don't have the best reputation. I'm not that kind of person, and I was taught to be better than my ancestors so that we could have a good life in civilization. I don't want to be known as a killer... It feels like I've set my species back a generation." "Ya know as well as I that the best way to avoid a fight is fer the enemy to be too scared to start one. I seen whatcha kin do, n' yer no slouch. Now ya mayn't be a killer, but ye can hold yer own with the best, and when they see a bastard with yer size and that reputation? Well damn, that'll be the safest charge in the whole city. N' it's not like yer the first, right?" He looked around the room with a furrowed brow for a moment, then settled back as his eyes found what they sought. He nodded behind his charge. "There. Who's that then?" Bloodclaw turned in his chair and let his gaze follow that of the captain to a high elf in a dark robe, carefully taking notes in the next room as she mixed several herbs in a small vial. "That's Nightshade, first Lieutenant of Dog Town." "Aye, and what's her reputation?" He thought for a few seconds. "Well, she's called Nightshade because she's a master of poisons. Always has a few of the plants of her namesake in her home so that she can prepare it at a moment's notice. It's said that she was singlehandedly responsible for removing the heads of all of the Dog Town gangs during the last purge before the Eagle Knights lost control." The dwarf sat back in his chair, smug expression plastered on his face and hands clasped relaxedly on his stomach. He waited patiently for the gnoll to recognize the point. "Nightshade, A.K.A. Maribelle Goldleaf. Keeps nightshade plants in 'er place 'cause she developed an antitoxin from their nectar. The last purge was actually a plague, and Nightshade was the only healer willing to treat thems in the Dog Town slums, including the leader of all six gangs. Of those, two survived, and after she eradicated the plague they helped to secure peace with the Eagle Knights. Stopped a war dead in its tracks. The woman would not hurt a fly. Literally. We were once attacked by a dire wasp and she managed to not only stop me from ending the thing, but also tame the bugger until it died of old age. "So ya see, pup, we all got our stories. Ya probably respect Nightshade a might more now that ya know her tale, 'cause a who you are, but when ya come to the Golden Eagles ya want someone who gets the job done. She gets the job done. Her way, every time." The gnoll sighed. "So Bloodclaw it is, I guess. Sorry mom" "Aye, that's the spirit!" Stonewall hopped from his chair with a chuckle and walked around the desk. "Come with me, lad. Now that yer a lieutenant I got summit special for ya." He followed the captain through the east wing and into the armoury. Awaiting the pair was a shining set of mail, resplendent in ebony and ivory and crowned with sharpened barbs. A shiver ran the course of Bloodclaws spine at the sight of it. It was all at once awesome and noble, shining and dark, gleaming with intimidation and intention. A low whistle escaped through the gnoll's fangs. "Where in the hells did you come across this?" "Where d'ya think, ya ninny? Bought the damn thing. Costs more'n me house, but it'll definitely keep you safe. Figured it was 'bout time fer an upgrade." Stonewall chuckled at the striker's sideways glance. "Yeah, 'course there's a catch, but I think you'll like it. I got a special mission for ya, one that seems to me it'll pay me back for this monster in full. The Twilight Talon need some hands, so I'm sendin' yers. Nothin's fer sure yet, but I betcha can convince 'em that ya got what it takes. Go earn that reputation o' yers, and then earn us all some coin. The Eagles are countin' on ya."

A Gnoll Apart   Physical Description: At first sight, Bloodclaw lives up to his name. A hulking behemoth of a gnoll, he stands at 7'2" and comfortably carries 294 pounds of pure muscle. Dark grey fur is spotted with black, and deep red eyes shine with both intelligence and mischief beneath a sunken brow. Long fangs and longer claws make an unspoken promise of intimidation and pain, and intricate tattoos covering the monster's arms and legs add an air of terrifying mystery. Who is this beast? What chaos will he leave in his wake? Personality: It truth, not much. Bloodclaw, a mercenary-made-lieutenant in the Golden Eagles, is actually one of Katapesh's most upstanding citizens. Raised from birth in the heart of civilization by caring, modern parents, he came up with a desire to do good and uphold the law. He is reckless, but never with the lives of others, and it always more than willing to put himself in harm's way to protect the innocent. He of course loves meat, as one cannot escape one's heritage, but unlike the more feral members of his race he tries to stick to domesticated fare. The "anything is food" mentality of his people always left him feeling ill, and to combat this he always tries his best to ensure that creatures he fells in combat are afforded the proper rites for their race. Or, more accurately, that their bodies are treated with respect, as it's very rare for him to participate in the slaying of creatures with a culture of their own, opting instead to put down his foes non-lethally. He loves designing and applying tattoos, though struggles to create art in other mediums, and will go out of his way to appreciate the talents of others when they are brought to light. He greatly dislikes those who would oppress the less fortunately, and, for some reason that he cannot recall, developed a deep fear of animated or otherwise malicious plants. He also loves to smile, but he hasn't quite figured out how to do it without making people run away (yet! Practice makes perfect).

[Ermine]

.

[Yuul]

Posting interest for an Armorist, possibly of the Soaring Blade Archetype.

[Sirviantis]

I have a character I'd like to use here, I'm just a bit uncertain about if I can keep up another game at a high post rate (I might, but that'd leave less time for other hobbies, which also would be a problem).

That said, I've got some questions:

Questions I don't think you've mentioned anything about a posting rate, so... what are you aiming for? while planning out my character I also noticed the reaper class, and was super hyped to play it, but then I saw it was third party, would you allow it nonetheless? When browsing through oracle curses just now (I was looking into taking it as a casting tradition drawback) I came upon the Legalistic trait. I really like it, but I've currently got enough drawbacks and don't need another one. Could I take the curse with benefits for flavour reasons? Otherwise I might still take it as a regular drawback and take spell points for it. Any set of deities we should pay attention to?

Let's start with an application in the meantime, I feel creative juices running strong today and I really feel like I ought to post.

Application: Vrirvi Tyrin Name: Vrirvy Tyrin Class: No archetypes, Cult of the Wyrm, Dual wielding and Nature sphere (based around metal and fire)Reaper Race: Tiefling Allignment: True Neutral, they mostly do what they feel like, without worrying too much about the implications it has on their soul. As far as Vrirvi is concerned his soul was promised to hell from the moment he was born. Appearance: There can't ever be a mistake over Vrirvi's tiefling heritage, nor their Rakshasa connection. Their skin is runs from red-orange along their back towards an allmost humanlike palor on their belly. Dark tiger stripes -disfigured by tattoo, scarring, steel and branding - now look vaguely flame-like. Short peach fuzz hair runs over Vrirvi's body like a veil, leaving them feeling soft to the touch, though they won't let you. As with most mammals the palms of the hands and soles of the feet don't have any hair on them, neither does the face or chest. Vrirvi's build is a mix between male and female, years of fighting in the arenas left him quite muscular and allude to masculinity. Meanwhile the tiefling unmistakably has breasts, they're small but too saggy to mistake them for muscles. In everyday life Vrirvi's appearance demonstrates their past pains and victories. their carreer in the fighting pits is referenced by the two daggers hanging on their left hip. A pair of cuffs around their wrists reference being bought and sold. Their time as a working in a pleasure house is referenced several silver tears on his left cheek, but this isn't the only metalwork the tiefling has branded himself with. To bolster his resilience they've grafted small metal plates on his arms and exposed belly. Other common clothing items include a tight fitting shirt, leaving the belly and arms exposed while displaying the shape of two well formed breasts. They usually walk on bare feet, this because most cobblers fail to accomodate Vrirvi's digitgrade feet. Most people don't notice this however because over their trousers they wear a set of long multicoloured skirts obscuring their feet. Vrirvi's face has strong angular features and a long chin which points to originally elvish parents. This is only increased by the angled almond-shaped eyes, with overlarge amber irises flecked with black and grey spread. Thick brows and a squat nose can then only be attributed to Rakshasa corruption, as well as the lynx-like ears. They keep grooming away their facial hair. Notable about the dragonslayer's long hair is that it's strangely resistant to fire, and the two significantly longer braids he's worked in, a symbol of past victories: those against his master and the dragon. Quirks: Vrirvi is prone to gesticulating a lot when they're talking. They value staying true to themselves more than anything else, and occasionally try to break away from the status quo just because. They enjoy telling tavern tales, and actively go out their way to earn a new tall tale to share. They won't keep a secret. Likes: That moment where they've subdued an opponent and they're just pinned on the ground. Recognising people from his previous line of work in the brothel, and making them feel awkward by referencing how they've met before. Fears: Small insects, By fire be purged! Who knows what diseases they can carry. Failing to perform when it matters. Being clasped in chains again. Public oppinion. Living as a cripple. Personality: When people meet Vrirvi they're left with very little doubt about what sort of person they are. The tiefling values self-expression over anything, and for this reason they're loud-mouthed and dead honest. This also makes Vrirvi rather quick to act on impulse, not to say they're not capable of better thinking or has bad impulse control, the warsmith simply value following these impulses more, choosing fully aware for a possibly worse ending for better short-term conditions. With terrible choices come worse consequences, and Vrirvi accepts these, as anyone should. They're a big believer in attonement and both corporal and ironic punishment. Beyond that, the slayer values strength, anyone who proves themselves is worthy earns Vrirvi's respect. And they're unyieldingly loyal to those who they value, both as friends, rivals or complete strangers. These men and women will find Vrirvi to be rather enjoyable, allways ready to spin a tale or tell a joke. Overall Vrirvi is mostly after the good things in life: Music, drink, celebration and, to an extent battle. They're not quite quick to forge deep friendships, being betrayed as much as he has tends to extinguish many optimistic embers that live in a person, but they are capable of working together of anyone who's accepting of their hiddeous appearance. Some traces of awkwardness allways linger, and are rarely smothered, but they can be ignored if the people around Vrirvi are supportive and accepting. Backstory: Vrirvi was cast out from the point of his birth, abandoned in a graveyard. His parent's appearantly thought leaving him here would be an ironic kindness, at least he'd have a proper burial. Instead the young fiendblood was taken in by the gravedigger, and taken to a priest of pharasma, Paccalo. He thought Vrirvi was headed to his unavoidable end too soon, and guilt inspired him to take care of the child. Vrirvi was kind growing up, but he grew up lonely, confined to the stonework and lichen that allegedly birthed him. Nonetheless, Vrirvi was content with his life, and his somewhat strange home situation. As the boy grew older his body started to change, and not quite in the normal ways. He allways had the familiar orange tint of skin, and his brow ridge ended in pointy bone-like structures. Instead where other boys grew more broad and muscular, Vrirvi became more... feminine. By the time "he" had matured, Vrirvi's body was completely hermaphroditic. By now they'd also started to notice that their father, Paccalo, had received a lot of local distrust for allegedly fathering such a beastblood. The adolescent realised that they were kept in the graveyard to not expose them to the trouble the townfolk put their father through. This abuse only became more apparent as Vrirvi started to explore the town, whethlon, and threats turned into physical violence on occasion. Deep down they felt it was their fault that Paccalo was put through so much trouble, and so the youngling fled. Hoping to repay the kind old man. They never made it far. The next town over chastised them, and chased them off. Eventually they ran into a rather wealthy man, Vunkis Goldroot, with no reservations about their tiefling lineage or miscreant appearance. They were to stay inside, but for now Vrirvi was glad to be rid of constant trouble these folks put him through. They took kindly to isolation, and moreso to being pampered a bit. For once they were nothing, nowhere, no one, and they loved it. No one was getting hurt because of them. Vrirvi started to love their saviour for the kind gesture, and they lived happily. Time doesn't let things go untouched however. One day Vunkis returned in panic, and barred the door as he frantically eyed his mansion. Vrirvi asked what was wrong, and Vunkis explained: "The town's found out I've been hiding you." Vrirvi offered to run, and Vunkis went with them. With the tiefling stuck in a hidden compartement beneath the bench in case of investigation. The click of a lock finally brought back some healthy scepticism to the tiefling's mind, but by now it was too late. When the lock opened Vrirvi soon found themself shackled and stripped of their belongings. They'd finally learned where Vunkis managed to get his wealth. The youth was marched to a podium, another man stood behind a desk, calling out numbers and pointing to the crowd that had gathered. As the ritual was completed another man pulled them by the chains. They brought the tiefling to yet another carriage, this one a cage on wheels, covered with a sheet. Vrirvi resisted his captors from the moment he arrived. When guards came to unhook his chains he'd lash at them with the thick metal links, succesfully strangling one of them before being drugged and passing out. Their master, a fat man named Don Mortello, then decided to use him for gladiatorial combat as well as for his pleasure house. For the rich, taboos were collectibles, and Vrirvi's murderous talents and exotic biology made them popular indeed. Months passed, before a strange old man paid for his services. By now Vrirvi was conditioned enough to no longer brutalise their clients which caused the man to ask why the tiefling was so docile. "I've been lashed more times I can count. And branded so often they started to leave the metal in as a reminder." Vrirvi explained through missing teeth. "Ah, I see" the man said casually as he laid a hand on his shoulder. The metal still embedded in him burned, but by the time it stopped he felt lighter, quicker, nimble. "There," spoke the old man, as he placed a sphere of metal in his lap, "Those flames they burned you with, put that anger into this, forge it, wield it. Take back what you're owed." Vrirvi did as he was bid, for their words were just, and the steel twisted and struggled, but formed into swords. In blood they repaid their hosts. Days passed with Vrirvi free of their captors, who were now but puddles of blood. They met a girl, named Milavi a minstrel and admirer of their skills in the arena, the woman used the magic of song and words to sway the tiefling. It wasn't long before Vrirvi knew he wanted her, and that was ofcourse Milavi's goal. For a year they were happy, and Vrirvi had taken up a career alongside his love. Using the combination of their vocals and instruments to earn them a permanent room at a local inn as long as they helped cook when not performing. Around this time the man started to take up some acrobatics, particularly fire-eating, to make more money and buy his freedom and all was quiet. A year later however the old man who freed him reappeared. He finally gave Vrirvi his name, Aeveid, and demanded he come with him. "No, I'm happy with my life, I'm not coming with you," Vrirvi rejected the man, and Aeveid left without another word. Three days later, Vrirvi would find the same had happened to Milavi. It didn't take long for Vrirvi to work out what had happened to her, and with haste he traced the old man's whereabouts. This brought him to a cave in a mountainside, Aeveid revealed himself, in his true form, a black dragon with lava flowing from it's skin. "Where is she!" Vrirvi Bellowed. "Not here," the dragon responded. Vrirvi sensed he was needed, or he'd be dead allready, and asked: "What do you want?" And the dragon responded "My son," Spoke the dragon calmly. "Fine," Vrirvi conceeded in a defeated tone, "Then I get Milavi back? Where is she now." The dragon promised her safe return on being reunited with the egg. Vrirvi took a month to find the egg, and they learned it was locked in what might as well be a military camp. They needed an army, that much was clear. The fighting pits were his main recruitment grounds, promising to unchain anyone willing to pledge them their sword. Vrirvi managed to gather a following before moving towards the camp again. They liberated it with stealth, guile and intimidation, and then Aeveid appeared on the sky. A trap was sprung, Aeveid couldn't survive an assault on the citadel, used the battlements against the wyrm. Harpoons brought down the beast, and Vrirvi demanded Milavi. When the dragon admitted he'd sold her Vrirvi locked the beast in an iron shell. They now seek to reclaim their lover by the same magic they used to end the dragon's life. Involvement with Twilight Talons: New recruit, as a former slave Vrirvi is personally involved with the slave trade and would like to see it stopped. Secretly they use the organisation in hopes of finding back Milavi. OoC: Because throughout Vrirvi's backstory their sexual identity changed, I've occasionally switched which pronouns I use. In game I plan to specifically use whichever their conversational partner isn't using, to demonstrate how they feel like they don't quite fit in.

I'm striking a delicate balance between edge and furry, and somehow managing to cross the line into both of them... How did I manage that?

[Keante]

Keante's Application Name: Jegan Race: Fetchling Class: Fey Adept (Skulk) Casting Tradition: none / no general drawbacks Spheres: Dark, Warp Party Role: battlefield control, face Alignment: Neutral Religion: Nethys Gender: Male Age: 28 Height: 6'0" Weight: 114 lbs Character Sheet:   Jegan's dark gray skin and yellow eyes mark him obviously as a kayal. His hair is naturally white, but he keeps it dyed a deep blue. Not very subtle, or so you would think--but when shrouded in deep shadow, the blue no longer stands out.   Jegan is a charismatic and cunning man. With one kind of smile he can set a person at ease, and with another send a thrill of fear down their spine. He is not altruistic or particularly compassionate, but neither does he seek to hurt others for the sake of his own gain.   Jegan grew up among the markets of Katapesh, born to a pair of merchants who had left the Shadow Plane a long time ago for a freer life away from the domineering presence of umbral dragons. In Katapesh, the family lived comfortably but was not wealthy. Jegan was afforded no formal education. As the kayal boy became a teen he grew bored with being around his parents' shop so much, and he started exploring Katapesh more on his own. He tried pesh a couple times at one of the cheaper dens, but when the place burnt down while he was high, the terrible burns Jegan suffered scared him off of being a pesh-user himself. However, he did get lured into the trade when a dealer saw Jegan's natural charisma as an asset that could be put to use increasing sales. For years, Jegan worked as a pesh dealer for this man. He dealt with many users, poor, wealthy, and in-between. He also saw the varying degrees to which pesh changed the lives of those users. Some never engaged in more than the occasional use for recreation, and others became so addicted that they spent all they had on pesh and wasted away their lives. At this same time, Jegan was becoming aware of magical abilities: the power to create darkness where there is light, to manipulate shadows, and to bend and warp spatial reality. He began to visit a local temple of Nethys to seek aid in developing these abilities. As he increased in knowledge and power, he began to view pesh, more and more, as simply a waste of time. There was nothing wrong, per se, with pesh. It is legal, and people can choose to use it if they want. But they are fools if they choose to waste hours upon hours and so much wealth for it. And so Jegan left behind his days as a pesh dealer. He continued to aid his parents with their merchant shop from time to time, but he spent most of his time seeking the development of his magical knowledge and ability. Jegan has also been acquainted with Whispershade for several years. Jegan has not known of Whispershade's affiliation with the Twilight Talons, but they have a friendly, though sparse, relationship because Whispershade was the one who pulled Jegan out of the burning pesh house, saving the kayal's life. The two have only met very occasionally since then--they would talk as friends, usually with Jegan telling Whispershade about the latest developments in his personal growth of magical ability. Jegan expects more of the same when he receives Whispershade's invitation to meet at this coffee shop, though it is a place they have not met before.

[Frederik]

I haven’t tried spheres yet, but I would really like to give it a go.

Character sheet

Name:
Qaup Hoi Xuong

Race:
Gnoll

Gender:
Male

Age:
23

Class:
Sphere Magus/Prodigy

Spheres:
Athletics, Brute, Life, Destruction

Role:
Striker/blastet, combat healer and some flexibility

Physical Description:
Qaup Hoi Xuong, who normally just go by the name Hoi, looks like a hodgepodge of Tian warrior culture. He weares the O-yoroi armour of a samurai, but is also weares black clothing like a ninja. He is armed with a katana, shurikens and a three-sectioned staff, each weapon taken from a different Tian martial tradition. It is like someone have taken the look of the Tian samurai, ninja and warrior monk and mixed it all together into one incoherent mishmash. Hoi is properly the butt of many jokes, but he wouldn’t know as few people dare say it directly to the tall and well-built gnoll.

Background:
As a small child Hoi was sold as a slave to the rich and essentric ulfen merchant Karl Norregaard. Karl wished to make a personal guard of exotic warriors, believing that having such a band would increase his prestige, besiddes enabling him to strongar, his way through difficult situations. Hoi was chosen to be Karls eastern warrior monster. Combining all the best parts of Tian warrior culture, at least like Karl saw it, into one warrior.

Qaup Hoi Xuong the Tian Master Warrior, would serve together with several other slaves Karl bought, styled and trained. Gnarl the Northen half-troll, Arden the Aldorian Swordlord and Slasstok the Cannibal Lizardman became Hois best friends during their early years of training.
As a Gnoll Hoi grew fast and he joined Karls personal bodyguard at the age of 10. The majority of Hois work was to stand behind Karl and look intimidating, but as he grew older Karl started to use Hoi and other members of his bodyguard as assasins, bullies and enforceres. In this way Karl expanded his influence and trading house over the corpses of his rivals.

Hois last job as a slave to Karl, was to kill a rival merchant. A Garundi slave trader named Jaware, who Karl feared was expanding into his market. What neither Karl nor Hoi knew, was that Jaware really was a member of the Twilight Talons and a Swordbound spellcaster, so Hoi stabbed Jaware in his bed, the spirit of Jaware fleed into Hois sword. Using his own skills, together with the knowledge and magic of Jawares spirit, Hoi killed Karl and fleed from his household. It would take several years for Jawares spirit to convince Hoi to contact the Twilight Talons, but in the end Hoi contactrd the secret organization and he have since worked for the organisation several times as a mercenary.

[Ruhkiam]

Character Application Basic Details Name: Akrelm Sunfist Race: Human Gender: Male Class: Sphere Sorcerer Spheres: Darkness and Destruction Age: 27 Physical Description: The first features one would notice about Akrelm is that he's tall, pale, and sickly. His eyes are almost constantly watery, his skin white as plaster, as though he hasn't seen a minute of sunlight throughout his entire life. And frail of form, not hunched, but one can see just how little meat is on his bones underneath his cloak. Despite all these features, Akrelm is in good health and relatively good physical shape; it's just the nature of his sorcerous heritage that he looks the way he does. He wears a thick black cloak underneath black robes to draw in sunlight as a way to add warmth to his body. Being so frail and pale makes him prone to get cold and shiver despite the weather being mild or even slightly hot. Thus, he takes any measure to add heat to himself, and found that dark clothes work the best, especially in climates where the sun is sweltering and unforgiving. Personality: Honest One of the most surprising features of Akrelm is his honesty. He rarely ever speaks lies and when he does it's only to protect those he cares about, and only then. Otherwise, he only speaks the truth. He is known for bending the truth, or distorting it, getting away with technicalities or even half-truths. But so long as it isn't a blatant lie he's alright with saying it. In all other circumstances, where he doesn't feel the need to hide anything, he says things as it is and expects others to be honest with him as well. Rash Akrelm isn't one to always think things through to the fullest. He's rash and impulsive; he gets an idea and he goes for it, attempting to do whatever popped in his mind right then and there. He's also prone to jumping to conclusions at times; taking things at face value and giving a knee-jerk reaction instead of taking the time to absorb, reflect, and think about the situation. It's gotten him in trouble more than once and put him in unfavourable situations more than he'd like to admit. Open and easy-going This goes hand-in-hand with his honestly; Akrelm is open and friendly to those he meets, offering warm smiles to anyone he interacts with and falling into easy conversation with just about anyone. He knows the way people see him when they first meet him, as a silent and brooding type due to the pale skin and all the blackness, but he's quick dispel any of those thoughts, and is open to telling others why he looks the way he looks. If they aren't frightened or put off by it. Ruthless Akrelm can be quite ruthless. Especially to his enemies. Taking pleasure in seeing them suffer due to his sorcery and prolonging their torture before finally allowing them to die. He knows it isn't normal, but there's something about watching his enemies scream out in pain and beg for mercy that gives him a thrill and want to make them suffer even more. He's careful not to prolong it too much, as this side of him scares even him, but he indulges himself every now and again just to get a taste of that thrill. Likes and Fears: Fears: Being unloved Becoming Evil Being insignificant Likes Rain Baking/cooking Heat Traits: +1 trait bonus to Sense Motive, and it's considered a class skillBastard +1 trait bonus to concentration and to initiative checksArcane Temper Backstory   Akrel was a single child to a relatively poor mother who worked as a maid in the local noble’s manor. He never knew his father; his mother only telling him that he was a man best forgotten and that’s exactly what he did. His early childhood was spent doing normal child things: running around the local neighbourhoods, stealing and thieving from stalls and talking his way out of trouble when the local guards were called. Always managing to somehow just evade trouble. With the most severe punishment being an admonishment or telling his mother what he did. Sneaking around wasn’t particularly easy for him, considering anyone in his town could point him out from a crowd. Emaciated, white hair despite his youth, and chalk pale skin. His mother tried everything to fatten him up, but no matter how much he ate, he always had a frail look to him. And as he grew older, his sickly appearance only got worse. By the age of ten, he was shivering from normal weather and was forced to wear dark heavy clothes just to keep himself warm. His mother took him to multiple doctors, clerics, priests over the years. Whoever could help. But most said they had no idea what was wrong with him. Akrel had no idea either, but he was content with his life so he let things be as they were. Things changed for him at the age of eighteen however. His powers began to manifest. He found that he could manipulate the shadows around him and even create spots of darkness. This instantly created ideas in his head and, excited about his powers, told his mother about them. Frightened and afraid, she told him not to reveal those powers to anyone and to keep them a secret from anyone that wasn’t her. When he asked her why, she wouldn’t say. Regardless, he went out and devised a plan with some friends of his after having shown them his powers despite his mother’s warning. An escapade of thievery ensued, with him casting his sorcery to conceal his friends as they stole or befuddle the owners of the establishment they were stealing from; always and only from the rich and well off, but they kept the goods to themselves and their families. After six months of thieving, they came upon a large mansion, almost as large as the lord’s manor and decided to make a heist to steal a priceless gem within. They made a great plan, had a great team with them, and Akrel’s sorcery helped them and would have aided them in completing the heist had the owner of the mansion not been a wizard. He had anticipated they would come after his home sooner or later and devised a plot that would seal them in a prison if they attempted anything; and that’s exactly where they ended up. The wizard came by several hours after their capture and intrigued by Akrel’s sorcery, made a deal with him that he’d let his friends go if he promised to be his servant for a year in penance for the crime he tried to commit. Akrel agreed; and in that year of menial servitude, he learned much from the wizard. Foremost of which was that his powers came from an ancestry that was either from the Shadowfell, and from what the wizard told him, it was likely Eladrin in origin. He didn’t know what it meant at the time, but it explained why he could see in darkness while others couldn’t. He was also trained to hone his magic, make it more powerful and to use skill instead of depending solely on raw talent. By the age of twenty-one, he was contacted by the Twilight Talons and they invited him to join them. After agreeing, he used his sorcery to aide in various missions, specialising in infiltration and extraction operations. His sorcery becoming an important asset in every team he was deployed with; and with each completed mission he grew stronger and more powerful in his abilities. Until his most recent mission. Othine Dalanse had gone missing and he was told to go to a coffee shop in Katapesh and figure out what happened to the field agent.