[PF-1e] Way of the Wicked - Hound Style

[Hound]

Closed to new interest.

Game Name Way of the Wicked - Hound Style

Game System Pathfinder

Theme Evil vs. Good. Can the bad guys win?

Flavour Organize Crime

Plot Summary Introduction Way of the Wicked is one of very few officially printed adventure paths that allows players to be the bad guy. We will be using the books; however, I will be altering some things. I have run this campaign before and I believe my minor changes will improve the game experience. Minions will be served as per the book to allow your character to feel powerful against the common folk, but bosses will be "spiced up". Excerpt from the Player’s Hand guide Guilty. You are a lawbreaker – the worst of the worst. Too dangerous to live amongst the good people of Talingarde, they dragged you in chains before a magistrate and condemned you. They sent you to the worst prison in the land and there they forever marked you. They held you down and branded you with a runic F. You are forsaken. You won’t be at Branderscar Prison for long. Branderscar is only a holding pen. In three days – justice comes. In three days – everything ends. What a pity. If only there was a way out of this stinking rat-hole. If only there was a way to escape. If only… No. No one has ever escaped from Branderscar Prison. This is where your story ends. Important Rule: This may be an evil game, but please respect all RPGcrossing rules. Who am I? I am Hound. I’ve been a member of this site for 11 years. I’ve been a DM for 20 years and a player for 25. I hope to bring my many years of experience to run a game you enjoy. Who am I looking for? I am looking for 4 players. Players who will commit to at least one post per week. You and your character will need to be ambitious. There will be plenty of down time where weeks or even months may pass. You need to be thinking about your character and what they get up to. How strong you become, how wealthy, how many minions you have, it will all be dependent on how much you seek it out. Example: If you want to be a lich, well you need to be proactive during your down time. I won't just hand it to you on a silver platter, but it is totally do-able. The only limits are your ambition. I also want Players who will promise to at least alert me when they are having a real life problems when time permits so we at least know what is happening. Please do not apply if you’re going to vanish on me or go a full month without posting and then say something like “I forgot” or “I wasn’t feeling it.” If there is a problem. If you’re confused, lost, unsure, not enjoying something, I hope you will talk to me so maybe we can fix the problem, rather than letting the problem fester and then you quit. If you do not think you can keep this simple promise, please do not apply. What will you be playing? You are playing a villain. Obviously. Below is the information needed to build a character. Character sheets are not required until after you are accepted. Level: You will be starting at level 3. Traits: As per the standard rules, you will need to find a crime trait within the player’s handbook that your character has specifically committed and been sentenced for. You may have a total of 2 traits, including the crime trait, and if you take a maximum of 1 drawback you may have a 3rd trait as normal. House Rules: I play with the custom house rules of background skills and elephant in the room. Wealth: 0 GP. Everything you had was stripped from you when you were arrested. You've been shipped half-way across the continent. You have nothing at the start. Health: Max each level Stat Array: Your characters will have been absurdly high starting array of 18, 18, 16, 16, 14, 14. There are two reasons for this. The first reason is that this will be Gestalt game. The high stat array will allow class combinations that are not necessarily common or easy to do. For example, an Urban Barbarian/Wizard is possible with that absurd stat array. The second, is that I want there to be no excuse for you to have a "dumb" character who purposely makes bad choices cause it's "what my character would do." Alignment: All players must be lawful evil. No other evil will be accepted. Classes: All core, base, hybrid, unchained, occult and alternate classes are accepted with 2 exceptions: Paladins are strictly forbidden while Anti-paladins must be in the service of Asmodeus and thus Lawful Evil. Any other alignment restriction that a class may otherwise have is ignored. Races: The races are heavily restricted. Humans, Elves, Half-elves, Half-Orcs, Dwarves, Gnomes, Halflings, Changlings, Aasimar, Tiefling, Ifrit, Oread, Undine, and lastly Sylph are the only races allowed. I strongly recommend "Appears human" for the outsider descended races. Less so for Aasimar. More so for Tiefling. Read the following spoiler to learn why.   The island of Talingarde, long, long ago, only had 5 humanoid races. Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, Goblins, and Giants. Elves claimed the forest and Dwarves claimed the mountains. Both races allied with one another and did their best to thrive. The Orcs, Goblins, and Giants were a constant problem for the Elves and Dwarves. Unlike the Elves and Dwarves, the other races did not farm or build, they only stole and pillaged. The elves and dwarves were magically and technologically superior to the other three races who were tribal and nomadic. However, their greatest advantage was their co-operation as savage tribes were often busier fighting amongst themselves than to cause the dwarves and elves any trouble. Things drastically changed when the first human ships first landed on the southern shore. They quickly established themselves, taking advantage of the southern lands where the winters were mildest and the growing seasons longest. Over the next few centuries, the humans expanded, pushing the savage races further and further north to the coldest regions of the island. The dwarves eventually bent the knee and began working under the humans, all but completely abandoning their mountain fortresses to join the humans in the major cities. The elves did not trust the humans and retreated to their forests where their druidic magic has been used to keep them safe to this day. Currently, there is a defensive line of castles along a natural river that separates the lush and fertile southern lands from cold desolate lands of the savage north. All the savage races have been forced past this boarder. The humans and dwarves remain at a constant vigil for attack. If you are a half-orc, your parent was likely taken for breeding by a full orc. Please don't go into go into too much detail, keeping in mind the site's PG-13 rules. As a half-orc there will be times you will be required to disguise your orc-heritage to accomplish a mission. If you are a half-elf, your parent likely got lost in the great magical forest of the elves. This has a higher chance of being the result of love, but you would have likely still faced racial backlash growing up as elves are seen as cowards by most humans. If you are an elf you likely did something to be banished and exiled. If you are a dwarf you are likely disgusted by how your race has basically become subservient to the humans. Halflings and Gnomes share a similar role in society to dwarves. Most of them were brought to the island as a workforce for various industries. If you are a tiefling, you will need the "appears human" trait. Otherwise, you would have likely been killed as a infant like so many others, reported still born to the authorities. Though it is possible you were spirited away by some kind open minded soul who tried to spare you. In which case you likely grew up in a very remote place until you were discovered and hunted. The elemental outsiders are most often seen as curiosities. This has resulted in many of them being in the entertainment industry. For better or for worse. Among the various races, Assimar will usually receive the warmest welcome in any community, assuming you are properly identified as such. Changlings have a unique spot on this list, as your character may not even know they are a changling at the time of the game starting. Every type of hag can be found on this island, so your mother is likely alive out there somewhere, but you've probably never met her before. Your father determined what you looked like, except you have Heterochromia. This would have resulted in being shunned by some of the more religious zealots, but not everyone would have been cruel to you. Only the superstitious. Of course, they had no idea they were right when they said it. Regardless of race, your character needs to someone who has the ability to at least compromise on the fact that there will be times that disguises are necessary. Lastly, here are some good examples of intelligent, ambitious, and skillful Villains you should keep in mind when making your characters: Xanatos from Gargoyles. Sher Khan from Tailspin. The King Pin from Marvel Comics. Lex Luthor from DC Comics. Doctor Doom from Marvel Comics. Doctor Octopus from Marvel comics... you know what, if they have Doctor in their name, they're probably a good example. Gus Fring from Breaking Bad. I'm sure you can think of a million more villains who are able to make wise decisions and work well with other villains to achieve your goal. Application Please include the following at minimum, feel free to have fun: Name: Race: Age: General Appearance: Feel free to include a photo, but include things like is the character supposed to be tall, short, fat, skinny, buff, handsome, ugly, etc... Concept Idea: You could tell me your classes, what role you would want to play in the party, or just a general concept idea. Crime: what is it you did to land yourself on death row? Story: This is the real crux of your application. Each and everyone one of you was captured by the heroic, Sir Balin, Knight of The Alerion Order. He is a powerful fighter and skilled investigator. He sniffed out your crimes, disrupted your schemes, and brought you in alive for execution. Your job is to describe the event in question. What crime or activity were you up to when he showed up and kicked your teeth in? By the end of the application, I want to truly believe that this Sir Balin is someone you truly hate. More so, I want to believe you wish Talingarde to suffer, to burn, to pay for what it did to you. The following is information that may help you in writing your story.   Sir Balin Race: Human Age: 37 Height: 5'10" Class/Level: Fighter 5 / Inquisitor 5 Combat Style: Buffs with Divine spells, duel wields two short swords in melee. Specialty: Heretic hunting Organization & Rank: Knight of The Alerion Order - Unlanded Nobility. He leads a squad of a dozen men & women who aide him in his hunt. Personality: Fiercely devoted to Mitra, he is a gruff, no nonsense man who has wholly dedicated his life to hunting heretics within Talingarde. He is often a man of few words, but he is quite smart and very observant. When he "solves the case" he will suddenly become a chatter box as he meticulously explains how he solved the case. Background: Born a commoner, Balin joined one of the few knight orders that did not require noble blood. Through hard work and dedication, he rose up to be sired by the king himself, granting him an unlanded nobility. Goal: To earn enough achievements to be granted land. Applicants I will post applicants here. Player Character Name Role Crime Status Double or Nothing Zeren Gulzeth Charming Caster Consorting with Dark Powers(Witchcraft) Complete triedtherest Midas bin Koil Wealth Generator Slave Trading Complete abc123 Selene "The Shade" Vael Problem Solver Murder Complete namo Trystan Elessor Broken Hearted Attempted Murder Complete The Rat Queen Lady Gwenfrewi Swansea Eyes on the Prize Consorting with Dark Powers(Witchcraft) Complete Grouchy Orm Cobra Commander Extortion Complete Squeak Vanya Mistweave Self-taught Caster Murder Complete MundayKnight Katalyn Fairwing Tragic Forlorn Love Dueling until Death Complete Imveros Israfel Nalio Eco Terrorist Arson Complete Classic Gamer Kel Storm Hell knight Heresy Complete mightymconeshot Sastran Shadowbringer Anarchist Arson Complete Ath Bendy of Talingarde Yandere Girlfriend Heresy Complete Admin Dirk Seraphina Tenebris Popular Preacher Heresy Complete Yas392 Nocturne Shamanigans Murder WIP FAQ I will repost questions that seem like they might be helpful to others here. May I use Spheres of Power or Path of War? No. May I play any other third party material? To be assessed on a case by case scenario. Sell me on your concept. If I buy the character idea and accept you into the game, then we can discuss the mechanics and why you think it can only be brought to life using this specific 3rd party material. May I use prestige classes? Yes. Qualify as normal. If their is a conflict in the rules because of gestalt, we'll discuss how to correct. May I use a god other than Asmodeus? It is possible, but narratively difficult. The core of the game is signing a contract with Asmodeus and serving him. Evil gods usually aren't good at sharing. How are Animal Companions or Familiars handled? Handled on a case by case basis. You likely will not have immediate access to them due to being in prison unless you have a special ability to get around this. If they aren't smart enough to know how to hide and come when summoned, then its possible they were killed during your arrest and will need to be replaced. Again, we will assess on a case by case basis. There will be plenty of cool creatures to try and tame if that is your thing. May I have multiple animal companions? I would tentatively say yes. You will eventually have your own armies of henchmen. I don't see having one extra wolf or one extra bear will be a big issues. That said, you will need to be intelligent on how you use them. The reason huge animals usually aren't allowed is because they rarely fit inside buildings. What's the deal with the free feats? Players selected to play will be allowed [1] free general feat or racial feat that helps flesh out their character based on their history, story, and role. For example, if you write a story where you're a great swimmer and strong climber, you'll get Athletic for free. At level 7, all players will receive the "Leadership" feat free, though it won't work as per written. Details to come when we reach that stage.

[Classic Gamer]

This idea intrigues me, but I don’t intend to apply quickly because I want to do much research first.

[Double or Nothing]

Would the 3rd party Spheres classes be allowed? They're balanced and help with the spell bloat.

Name: Zeren Gulzeth
Race: Human
Age: 24
General Appearance:

 

Zeren is fastidious about his appearance, taking advantage of his magic to 'tidy up' by using spells to shave, clean his clothing, etc. Spending most of his time indoors has left his skin pale, and he keeps himself cleanshaven, finding facial hair too itchy.

Zeren’s hedonistic excesses have yet to affect his looks and he’s still a handsome youth with a charming smile and slim figure. But there’s a hunger in his green eyes and the most common expression on his face is cruel amusement. He keeps his black hair short and neatly combed, not wanting it to cover up more of his good looks than it needs to.

Concept Idea: Flamboyant spellcasting face character. In terms of Zeren's role I was thinking of going with a Phoenix Bloodline Sorcerer/Lore Oracle Gestalt.

That would let him handle blasting, knowledge checks, face skills, and some healing depending on what the party needs.

Crime: Consorting with dark powers.

Story: When Zeren’s powers manifested the Church of Mitra claimed him and took him to the religious training academy in The Vale, proclaiming that he was clearly meant to live a life of service. They promised his parents (a pair of middle-class merchants) that Zeren would be well cared for, educated by the finest tutors, and could one day rise high in the church hierarchy as a benevolent healer. Clearly he had been blessed by Mitra with these abilities and was destined for a life of selfless service.

Zeren didn’t see it that way. He absorbed knowledge like a sponge and his teachers had nothing but praise for his magical abilities (even if they were unnerved by something they couldn’t quite put their fingers on when he tried to persuade others), but Zeren had no intention of becoming some celibate monk unable to use the power he possessed for himself. Not just that, but he could feel a fundamental wrongness with the Church of Mitra's teachings. Zeren's powers as a Sorcerer were born of the purifying powers of flame, but his Oracle abilities (and the curse that came with them) came from a far darker source that pushed him to use his powers for himself.

Zeren's frustrations mounted. He was a Lore Oracle, but the Church of Mitra was intent on limiting knowledge they deemed blasphemous and stifled the expression of ideas contrary to their teachings. What was the point of knowing things if he couldn't talk about them or use them? Why were those born to royal families treated like they were better than him just because of who their parents were? He had powers far beyond any noble he knew, was more knowledgeable than the majority of them, why should they rule him other than that being the way things always were? Talingarde's aristocracy was corrupt and incompetent, clearly new leadership was needed from among those more worthy of power.

But challenging the status quo, especially relating to the royal family was heretical and treasonous so Zeren had to keep his thoughts to himself. Bottling his feelings didn't work, so he started acting out. The Church responded to Zeren’s infractions (which ranged from smuggling wine into the monastery, cheating on tests, and playing Devil’s advocate in debates on scripture to getting caught reading blasphemous tomes and questioning the ban on certain religions) with increasing severity, culminating in him being whipped in front of his fellow acolytes as penance.

That was the breaking point for Zeren, he waited for as long as he could bear it and then he ran away. Needing money, Zeren tried to find work as a mercenary, but lacked the experience to be worth hiring. Zeren ended up drifting from town to town, subsisting on charity and silently raging over the unfairness of life. And the dark whispers in the back of his mind got louder, telling him of how this was all the fault of the moralistic, weak-minded bullies in the Church of Mitra and the self-serving and unworthy rulers of Talingarde.

Then he found a place where he could put his talents to use. A cult of Asmodeus needed another spellcaster to help summon a devil to the Material Plane. Zeren offered his services (for a price), only for the ritual to be raided by witch hunters of the Mitran church led by Sir Balin of Karfeld. Zeren was far too weak a spellcaster to summon a devil himself (he'd have been channeling his powers to the main cultist during the ritual), but somehow his frantic attempts to finish the summoning himself when the witch hunters attacked managed to call up a Bearded Devil. The fiend bowed to him and then leaped to his defense, but was quickly dispatched along with the rest of the cult.

Zeren managed to run, but the witch hunters had magic and numbers on their side and soon he was surrounded. He attempted to blast his way to freedom, only to to be caught by Sir Balin and beaten to the ground. His eye were level with the knight's boots when he was kicked back into a standing position and had manacles clapped on his wrists. The last thing Zeren heard before being led away in chains was “May Mitra have mercy upon your wretched, damned soul.”

Zeren tried to claim he had been kidnapped and forced to assist the cult, but his lies were easily disproven by the fact he'd summoned a Devil and a Discern Lies spell. The whispers in Zeren's head returned, Sir Balin just had brute force and numbers on his side, if Zeren had the same power he'd have triumphed. The knight was yet another bully and symbolic of how Talingarde treated those with worthy ambition.

For that and the 'F' brand now scarring his body Zeren is determined to have revenge on Sir Balin, the Church of Mitra, and Talingarde and force them to acknowledge his greatness no matter what he needs to do. Given the chance he'd join with whoever promised him the power and glory he feels he deserves, especially if it comes at the expense of those he sees as unworthy.

Personality: Zeren is a selfish and greedy hedonist who hungers for life’s pleasures, knowledge, political and magical power, and the adoration (or at least fear) of others. He's eloquent and well-read (and will not let you forget it), loves the sound of his own voice, and will say whatever it takes to persuade those he's talking to that they should do as he says. He'd rather make a friend than an enemy but will switch from flattery to threats in an instant and kill without remorse if he thinks violence will be more effective.

Beyond material wealth Zeren also craves a noble title. He’s seen the uselessness of the nobility and believes himself to be far more deserving of becoming royalty than the wastes of space currently living in palaces and mansions. And it would be yet another accomplishment to feed his ego and a launching point for ever-higher ambitions.

Which leads into yet another one of Zeren’s desires: immortality. The power he possesses as an Oracle and Sorcerer and his love of physical pleasures has made Zeren unwilling to accept death as an end. He’s certain that he can find a method to extend his life indefinitely, he just needs to figure out a method that won’t require him to give up power or pleasure.

Zeren has a few positive traits. When he genuinely likes someone he's a loyal friend and won't betray a group he's part of unless they betray him first out of a twisted sense of professionalism.

The way Zeren’s life unfolded (represented by being both an Oracle and a Sorcerer) could be seen as auspicious, but he doesn’t see it that way. He doesn’t believe he has a destiny, he believes he has to seize every opportunity to get what he wants and can’t just rely on fate.

Roleplay Sample:

 

This would be from after Zeren's gained a few levels. I just wanted to show off the wings.

Zeren had no difficulty accessing the Magistrate's office without being noticed. Knowledge was power, power was control, and in this case the knowledge of guard movements, knowledge of an unsecured window, knowledge of Magistrate's corruption, cowardice, and habit of drinking in his office at this time meant Zeren had power over the Magistrate. Power he'd now demonstrate.

The Magistrate starts to stand when Zeren enters the room, but Zeren just magically pushes him back down into his chair.

“No, no, no! No need to get up. I’ll just be a few minutes. There is much that could be discussed, but in this case it’s just about a certain shipment of spices that will be arriving within the next week.”

Zeren preemptively cuts off the Magistrate’s question about who he is and what he’s talking about.

“It doesn't contain spices of course, but but but that's none of your business. This is:”

He drops a bag of gold coins onto the desk, then conjures flames between the bag and the Magistrate’s hands when the man reaches for it.

“-but but but I need to be absolutely certain that the shipment will, rather than continue on its way, instead be impounded for oh-”

Zeren drums his fingers on the desk.

“Let’s say 2 days. Yes, 2 days. More than enough time for me and my associates to do what we need to do and then it can continue on its way.”

The flames begin moving towards the Magistrate as Zeren keeps speaking.

“So I need need need to ensure that this happen. So if for some reason that shipment isn’t stopped I’m going to kill you. Painfully. Like this:”

The flames roar up the Magistrate's body, charring his flesh and filling his lungs with smoke. The Magistrate tries to stand, to get away, but his body is burning and he can't breathe.

With a word and gesture Zeren cuts off the flames, only to begin sending more magical flames over the Magistrate's body. Except these flames heal. New skin grows over the Magistrate's body where the flames touch him and he gasps as he draws in a much-needed breath. In moments the only sign of what happened is the Magistrate's burned clothing and a scorch mark on his desk.

Zeren waves his hand to indicate the Magistrate's healed body.

"Betray us, fail us, upset us in any way, and I'll take away the life I just gave back to you. We can reach you no matter how many guards you have or how thick your walls are."

The Magistrate cowers as Zeren points a finger in his face and smirks.

"So remember: Impound the spice shipment for 2 days. Or else."

Zeren walks to the window, summons the flaming wings his bloodline grants him, and flies off into the sky, his escape hidden by magical darkness.

[Hound]

Welcome Double or Nothing!

Zeren is an excellent character! Top notch with our first applicant. I really like his story and I can think of a lot of things I could do to help build his story. Good job.

Regarding the question about Spheres of Power. I did not include them or the Path of War set of rules as I do not personally like them. That's the only reason. Thanks for asking.

[droobles]

are archetypes core only too?

PS: sneaky way to ask for spheres of might archetype

[triedtherest]

Application Name: Midas bin Koil Race: Human (Focused Study Bonus Alternate Racial Trait) Class: (Side 1) Unchained Rogue (Phantom Thief), possibly going into the Noble Scion Prestige Class if he can make the prerequisites Class: (Side 2) Alchemist (Mindchemist) Intended Role: Skill monkey, Crafter, Blaster, Buffer, Battlefield Controller, Healer, Face, Wealth Generator, Supplier Alignment: Lawful-Evil. Crime: Gain +1 skill point per level, that must be spent on the Appraise SkillSlave Trading Traits: -Use Int modifier for Use Magic Device instead of ChaPragmatic Activator -Choose one Cha based skill. You attempt checks with that skill using your Int instead of your ChaClever Wordplay Drawback: -You take a –2 penalty on Will saving throws against charm and compulsion effects if the creature creating the effect promises wealth or power.Power Hungry   Height: 5'4"| Weight: 150 lbs Age: 32| Skin: Deep Olive Hair: Dark Eyes: gold Usual Attire: Well kept, but random (see below). he appears to be a rather short, if extravagantly dressed Human Male, with an almost constant twinkle in his eyes, which seem to glitter like Gold Sovereigns. At 5'4", he would be considered "short" by most people's standards. He likes to dress well, and in the style of his own people, wherever possible. Keeps a short, but well-maintained beard.   When in conversation, he tends to smile and gesture a lot. He tends to stroke his beard absently when he is deep in thought. He is usually thinking about money! Although he may haggle to the ends of the World, he is always technically honest in his dealings, after all, nobody (not even criminals) wants to deal with a cheat! Desires Money above all else. He is never satisfied with what he has, he always wants more! He never seems happy with himself, how he looks, or (especially) his economic position! He tries to make up for his naturally short stature with an excess of fashion choices (always changing) to colourful personality quirks (likewise!)   Rahadoum, home to both people so rich that they make some Kings look poor, and other people who are so poor that they don't even own themselves! Over the course of his long life, Midas has been at both of these extremes! Born into Slavery, he was undernourished and frail, considered too small and weak for the more physically demanding tasks that his fellows undertook, he was given to the Household's Resident Alchemist, to use as either an assistant or for "spare parts!" Fortunately, he had something of a Silver Tongue, and was able to persuade the Alchemist to put him to work. It was here, that he first met Elvira! Elvira was a slave from Thuvia, that had been traded after being captured by Shackles Pirates, bought by the Master of the House, and automatically made an Alchemist's Assistant because, in his words: "Thuvians know about Alchemy!" Whether or not that was true, Elvira had proved to be a quick learner (perhaps afraid of the fate that awaited her if she wasn't!) He never knew why, but Elvira took him under her wing, teaching him the rudiments of Alchemy in what little spare time they were allowed. Through hard work, and a little persuasion, he was able to barter for his freedom...or so he likes to tell people! What actually happened was that he forged some documents and stole the identity (and therefore freedom) of a slave about to be released! While many people who had had suffered under the (literal) lash, would feel empathetic toward others who had been enslaved, Midas felt no such sympathy. Midas hopped on the first ship that would take him, and hoped that wherever he ended up, the people there would be in the market for some highly illegal "Alchemical Products". Unfortunately for him, the ship was bound for Talingarde, perhaps the most depressingly law-abiding countries on Golarion. Midas had been bound by rules his entire life, but nowhere near the pure inflexibility that was Talingarde, and worse than that was the sheer self-righteous nature of them all, especially the two-faced Clergy that seemed to only venerate their local Deity, some demigod that Midas had never heard of, never wanted to, and had no choice in the matter when he tried to save funds by staying in a church run hostel. A thin gruel, a patch of floor to sleep upon, and he had to listen to some batty Priest telling everyone that they needed to repent their "sinful" ways! Pretty bold to assume he had any sinful ways Even bolder to assume he would repent them even if he did! It took a while, but Midas eventually made contact with the criminal elements of this hypocritical country, did some jobs for them to establish his name and earn enough coin to proccur the raw goods he would need to set up a deal. He ended up running afoul of a particularly nasty gang, led by a brother/sister team that tried to steal his cargo. He set his goods on fire, rather than let them reap the benefits of his hard work, and fled before they could kill or capture him. Not knowing who to trust in this place, Midas realised that trying to muscle in on the rather limited black market would be difficult, if not impossible...at least as a seller! Midas began to ask around the various petty Crime Lords, to see their list of defaulting debtors. When their last chance to pay had come and gone, Midas offered to place that debt under his name in exchange for "indentured service", to which he made these people (most of whom could not even read) sign away their freedom to him. Once he had a sizable enough group he would transport them to Katapesh, where he would sell them for their worth of Pesh, which Midas would then refine and transport back to Talingarde to sell to the local Crime Lords, who were suddenly a LOT more eager to deal with him, especially once he had squared the various debts he had taken on, and would have a fresh list of new debtors for Midas to approach. After several years of repeating this highly illegal strategy, Midas had secured a respectable amount, enough to free Elvira and set them up with a comfortable life. Unfortunately, Midas had been absent for a long time, Evira had feared he would not return, not only that but she had finally been revealed that she had not in fact been an Alchemist in Thuvia, so she had tried to escape, getting caught and being brought back for punishment. Normally the Master of the Estate would order them lashed until they lost consciousness, but feeling slighted at the recent revelation about her, he decided to make an example of her and have his Alchemist publicly cut her up for "Spare Parts....!" Midas, finding out about this, reached out through a broker, offering to pay well over the market value for her. The Master came back with value that was over TRIPLE the amount offered. Midas didn't quite have enough for this, so he asked for enough time to make one more run from Talingarde to Katapesh to Rahadoum, which he was begrudgingly given, but no longer than that! So Midas returned to Talingarde, to make the run that would finally see Elvira freed. Had he not been so preoccupied, he DEFINITELY would have seen the trap laid by the Guards who had been tipped off by the Criminal Gang Leaders that he had crossed paths with previously, before he blithely walked into it! As he felt the cold snap of the steel manacles put around his wrists by a smug-looking Knight, he felt like he had all those years prior. A poor slave, in bondage. This time, more than his own life was at stake, and he was absolutely sick of being looked down upon. Coldly, Midas told the knight that his actions had condemned an innocent woman to death. The Knight (who Midas later found out was called "Sir Balin") told Midas that he should have shown equal sympathy to the people whose lives he had ruined, at which point Midas tried to launch himself at the man, the chains stopped him but brought him close to Sir Balin's face. "I got myself out of chains once, I can do it again, and when I do...I'll kill you and burn this entire insipid country to the ground, you pretentious pri...!" A blow to the head rendered him unconscious, thus preventing him from finishing his epithet, but even in this state he found a strange resolve. He was done being looked down upon, people had done so to him all his life in Rahadoum, and he would be damned before he let the spoiled peacocks of THIS country do the same to him! Except "Damned" is exactly what he would have to become to make his fevered dreams of revenge come true....   Talingarde: Several years before his arrest: Midas paced nervously, this was his last chance to turn his fortunes around, and first Meets were always a nerve-wracking affair, especially in a new city. This Gang Leader, Jerek...Something, had a particularly nasty reputation and he was far away from his home-turf. "We did say an hour after Twilight?" He questioned, not for the first time. "Relax!" Said his guide, Safira, also not for the first time. "He'll be here!" He looked at the people he'd brought/bought along, all at Safira's urging, then glanced at "The Crate". "That's easy for YOU to say!" Returned Midas, testily. "You are not the one who is trying to flog a bunch of Black Market Toxins in a disused Warehouse, in a Strange Town to a known Killer. If this goes South then you can just leg it. If this Jerek takes exception to me, I'm dead. If he decides to take it without paying for it, then I have to explain this to my Backers at home...!" He shuddered. Elvira would be furious! He continues. "And I don't care if you say the Guard turn a blind eye or not, they could easily take exception to an out of towner, and arrest me. Then I would likely spend years in jail!" Safira shakes her head. "No jail...? EXECUTION!" He gasps. Nods. "Oh perfect! The things I do for coin!" "You whine alot, Mister Binkoil..!" Jerek had arrived. That's...that's not how you say my name! Thought Midas, wearily, but he was not about to start correcting the dangerous Thug! "...And you would not believe some of the things that I have done for coin!" ""Jerek" I presume?" Says Midas with a raised eyebrow. His eyes flick over the men with Jerek. Good! Roughly equal numbers on both sides, so he's less likely to start something here. Jerek nods, then indicates the crate. ""My Goods" I presume!" "That depends..." Says Midas. "...you brought the coin?" At a motion from Jerek, a man brings out a small chest and opens it up. Midas makes a quick estimate in his head, smiles, then opens up the crate. He holds his hand out in a dramatic fashion, over the crate. Jerek looked at the contents from where he was standing. "Hmm! Yes, I will be able to make a profit on this. Who made all of this?" "Him!" Said Safira, pointing at Midas. Midas frowned, he hadn't wanted this information to be known, at least not to this fellow! "Excellent!" Said Jerek. "Well done, Sister." ""Sister...?"" Said Midas in surprise. CHNK! Around a dozen weapons of various descriptions were drawn at once, and all were being pointed at Midas. "Like I said: "MY Goods" Mister Binkoil!" Sneered Jerek. "Perhaps..." Said Koil, he knew he was sunk, but there was one thing left... "Do you know much about my family, the...er, Binkoil's? No? We have a phrase, sort of a Family Motto, it goes: Non Proficies Infortunio Meo." It means..." ""You Shall Not Profit From My Misfortune"." Translated Jerek automatically. "Wait! What..!" A flick of Midas' wrist, and a flask appears in his hand, the one he held above the crate, and that Flask contained... "Alchemists Fire! NO...!" Too late, Midas dropped it into the open crate. There was a Wmph! and a blast of heat and, the goods were ash in seconds! The goods were gone, and Midas had used the flash to disappear. There was an angry cry: "BINKOIIIIIIL!"   Goals: - Character: Acquisition of money, and live long enough to spend (or of old age, but still rich!) After being looked down upon all his life, he wants to be SEEN as one of the Elite of society, perhaps even joining the aristocracy. - Mine: To pull off playing such a quirky character! Secrets: - He does not know: Armenti (the former slave) is still out for his blood. Midas has actually forgotten the man even exists! - Hostile: Armenti was the slave whose identity Midas stole all those years ago. Although he did earn his freedom years later, Armenti still believes (correctly) that it is Midas' fault that he was not freed much sooner. Armenti's hatred of Midas bin Koil is entirely warranted. - Hostile: Jerek & Safira were a brother and sister team that attempted to cross Midas on a Smuggling deal. Midas burnt the goods rather than let himself be robbed. Jerek swore revenge, and when Midas came back to Talingarde, the Gang Leader cut a deal with the local Guards to trap his arch-nemesis. Midas was arrested, the rest is History. Memories, Mannerisms, or Quirks:   - He has one memory of his parents: Them selling him into slavery for drinking money! - He seems to change his manner to suit his circumstances, usually in accordance with the ones of the people he finds himself with, perhaps so it's easier to sell them things. - He tries to work out what other people desire, in order to get a decent handle on them. Personality   Trait: He always wants to know how things work and what makes people tick, all the better to sell them the things that he can convince them that they want/need. Bond: I owe Elvira a great debt for forging me into the person I am today. Ideal: I work hard to be the best there is at my craft. The craft of ripping people off, of course! Flaw: I'm never satisfied with what I have – I always want more. Things that make him afraid: A life of poverty Things that give them hope: That after everything he's been through, he still has the Gift of the Gab!   Additional Detail Midas would ABSOLUTELY hate the conditions in Brandescar! He has gotten far too used to the finer things in life, and having all of these things taken from him would sicken him to his core! Not to mention that these conditions are far too close to the ones he had to endure in his life as a slave, probably prompting into some kind of PTSD episode! As for pledging himself to Asmodeus, Midas actually would find a lot in common with his Teachings, as he has treated Slavery as a fact of life, being on both ends of the Whip at various points of his life, and believes that even a Slave can turn things to their advantage. Asmodeus can offer Wealth and Power that would dwarf anything he was able to obtain in his former life, as well as revenge on those that took everything from him in the first place. Yes, Midas would definitely pledge his service. Midas would not change*overly*much, as he is already a "Ends Justify the Means" kind of guy. Not exactly cruel, just impassive to to the suffering of others, which would likely become more and more pronounced as he gains authority over more and more people.

[abc123]

Selene "The Shade" Vael Name: Selene "The Shade" Vael Race: Human Age: 23 General Appearance: Selene is like a shadow given human form: lean, poised, and eerily composed. Her raven black hair is cut short, framing a face both striking and cold. Her pale grey eyes are devoid of warmth, always watching, always calculating. She moves with effortless grace, every step deliberate, every move precise. Though often clad in dark, practical clothing suited for stealth, there is an undeniable elegance for how she carries herself. An artist of death, crafting each kill with the precision of a sculptor chiseling away imperfections Concept Idea: Selene is an arcane assassin who blends magic with precise, surgical strikes. Probably a Rogue/Sorcerer Gestalt, she operates as a ghost, silent, unseen, and utterly lethal. Her role in the party is stealth specialist, illusionist, and killer. Crime: Murder and High Treason - Selene assassinated Lord Ardyn Valcrest, a noble of Talingarde and a staunch servant of Mitra. He was found in his locked study, throat cut, with no signs of a forced entry. The perfect crime, until Sir Balin caught her. Personality: Selene is ice-cold precision, every word and action measured for effect. She is neither cruel nor needlessly sadistic. Violence is simply a means to an end, a tool she wields with the same detachment as a painter holds a brush. She does not kill recklessly, or for pleasure, but for the artistry of it. The challenge of the perfect execution. To her, the ideal kill is one where the victim never even suspects their own death until it's too late. Bloodshed is not chaos, it is elegance. But beneath that controlled exterior simmers pride, resentment, and the insatiable desire for vengeance. Being caught, humiliated, and sentenced to death has done more than wound her ego. It has fueled an unyielding hatred for Sir Balin and the faith he serves. She is patient. She is calculating. And she is waiting for the moment when the chains break, the tables turn, and the hunted becomes the hunter once more. Story:   Origins of an Assassin Selene was not born a killer. She was made into one. Her childhood was spent in the gutters of Matharyn, the shining capital of Talingarde, a city that prided itself on virtue, yet let its slums fester like an open wound. Her mother, a courtesan past her prime, drowned herself in cheap wine to forget the cruelty of her trade. Her father? A nameless client, a ghost that never stayed long enough to matter. Selene learned young that kindness was weakness, that hunger was a sharer blade than any knife. She survived by stealing, by deception, by learning to disappear when the city guards came looking. She was quick, clever, and ruthless when she had to be. Her first kill was an accident. She was fifteen when it happened. A noble's son, drunk and laughing, cornered her in an alley with a dagger of his own. A game to him. A show of power over some nameless street girl. But Selene did not beg. She did not cower. She watched. She saw the overconfidence in his stance, the sluggishness of his grip, the way he thought that she was already beaten. When he lunged, she sidestepped.When he tripped, she turned his own blade against him. The steel went into his neck. He gurgled. Fell. Stopped moving. Selene waiting for the sadness, the panic, the guilt to set in and take hold. But it never came. Instead, she felt something else: control. The realization that, for the first time in her life, she had been the one who was in charge, who dictated the outcome. Her second kill was no accident. The noble's father, Lord Halwin d'Bray, wanted justice. He sent men into the slums, paying for whispers, tearing apart hovels, terrorizing residents, dragging people into the streets for answers. Selene ran. Hid. But she knew she wouldn't be fast enough forever. So she chose to stop running. One night she crept into the d'Bray estate, not with the desperation of a fugitive, but with the cold purpose of something far worse. She waited in the rafters above the lord's chambers, silent, patient, a shadow among shadows. When Lord Halwin entered, she did not hesitate. She dropped from above, a stolen kitchen knife in hand, and opened his throat before he could scream. By the time the guards found his body, Selene was already far gone. She became a myth before she became a name. She killed again and again and again, but never out of anger and never without reason. Every death was calculated. A guard who beat a girl to death for stealing bread. A merchant who sold orphans to brothels. A noble who hunted beggars for sport. People whispered of her in the slums, a nameless spectre who struck down the wicked. But she was no hero. She did not kill for justice, for good, for revolution, for some grand ideal. She killed because it gave her power and because it meant no one could ever have power over her again. And soon, people started paying her to do it.   A Phantom of the Nobility Selene was never recruited, never trained by some secret guild. She learned by doing. She refined her craft with every kill, perfecting the art of murder through experience and instinct. Her talent became an open secret among those willing to listen. Not the common folk, mind you, she did not kill for them. But the desperate, the ambitious, the ones who needed an obstacle removed without a trace. A whispered name, an unsigned letter, a pouch of gold, and a body no one could explain. It was a game to her now, an art. Selene did not just kill, she orchestrated death. A lord drowning in his own bath, the water unnaturally still. A merchant slumped at his desk, a glass of poisoned wine resting at his fingertips. A knight found in his chambers, fully clad in untouched armour, but with a body riddled with puncture wounds. Each one a puzzle. A challenge. A chance to create something perfect. Some killers work for money. Some for ideology. Selene? She kills because it is what she was meant to do. Because the word had always belonged to the powerful, and she refused to be powerless again. Coin was useful, but control and power are priceless. Her assassination of Lord Ardyn Valcent was more than a contract. It was a message. He was not merely a noble. He was a symbol of everything wrong with Matharyn and with Talingarde. A man who preached virtue while standing on the broken backs of those beneath him. His death would be a performance, a silent masterpiece that would remind the elite that not even their gilded halls could protect them.   The One that Almost Got Away Lord Ardyn Valcrest was a man of faith, a pillar of Talingarde's nobility. He believed himself untouchable, protected by wealth, power, and piety. Selene proved him wrong. She studied him for weeks, learning his patterns, understanding his habits. She infiltrated his manor on a moonless night, slipping past guards, weaving through shadows. With a whispered spell, she sent him into a deep, unnatural slumber. He never even felt the dagger that kissed his throat. It was a flawless kill. But Sir Balin did not search for a motive. He searched for patterns. And he found her. She was a ghost, a whisper, a shadow in the night. Yet, Sir Balin pursued her with relentless precision. He did not just chase he cut off her options, severed her resources, and made her life a shrinking cage. Still, she fought. She fled through alleyways, vanished into crowds, left false trails, and killed those who came too close. But Balin was patient. He did not need to be faster. Only inevitable. The final confrontation took place in the ruins of an old noble estate. She had chosen her battleground, filled it with traps, set the stage for his death. And yet, she lost. Balin was not some bumbling fool who had stumbled into her web. He was a knight of the Alerion Order, trained to hunt the damned, the wicked, the ones who lurked int the darkness. For every shadow she disappeared into, his faith burned them away. For every feint she made, his steel was already there to meet her. Her magic failed. Her daggers missed. So she fell, broken and bloodied, at his feet. But he did not kill her. Instead he bound her, shackled her, dragged her from the darkness into the blinding light of justice. And for the first time in her life, Selene tasted the humiliation of defeat. She will never forget it. She will never forgive it. And when the time comes, she will make Talingarde bleed for it.

[namo]

Name: Trystan Elessor
Race: Human
Age: 28

Concept Idea Debuffer (Fear specialist), Melee Tank. Class-wise, a Mesmerist | Antipaladin gestalt most likely.

Crime: Attempted murder

 

Height: 6' | Weight: 140 lbs (prison weight)
Skin: white
Hair: ash blond
Eyes: blue-grey

There are two Trystan, and you'd be hard-pressed to recognize new Trystan if you knew the old one.

He used to be a pampered noble. While he did not eschew exercise, he still had a layer of fat and the ever-so-slightly chubby cheeks of a young man. He also had the time to curate a large wardrobe of impeccably fashionable clothes, including ruffled shirts, pleated jackets, embroidered riding trousers, ...
He turned heads with his strong jaw, ravishing smile and overall good looks.

After time in prison, he is leaner, meaner, with a slightly crooked nose - it got broken - and dark rings under his eyes. Not to mention wilder hair, and highly unfashionable clothes: the roughspun tunic of the prisoners.
He has worked to retain a fair amount of muscle; he is now so emaciated that they play visibly under the skin whenever he moves.

 

Tempering: the core of the blade remains the same...
"Entitled" is the most polite way to describe Trystan: as the heir to a noble title - old blood, at that - from a family with a well-endowed purse, he has been used from birth to have his needs met by others, and he has been taught that he deserves it.
He furthers his own goals without thinking much of the impact they may have on others.
That core of his personality remains the same.

...but by making it softer, you make it more solid, less brittle.
Prison has been his crucible.
He used to be quite full of himself: his grandiose self-perception was strengthened by the gifts life or luck has bestowed upon him: he was handsome, he was strong, he was gifted in magic and his personality was magnetic, dominant. He now acknowledges - to himself - some weaknesses: that he cannot achieve his goals on his own, that his skills need to be continuously honed, and complemented by that of others.

He was passionate to a fault, prone to extravagant joy and sudden, terrible bouts of rage - interspersed with bouts of apathetic depression. He's reflected on what led him to his current wretched state, and has come to the intimate conclusion that he needs to keep a rein on his emotions, an ever-renewing challenge.

 

The Elessor pay lip service to the Mitran faith, but little more; they pay the tithe like everyone else because it is expected from people of their station. Few of them ever join the Church or the Knights of the Alerion.
Trystan took after his family and, past a fleeting childhood fascination for the pump of Mitran ceremonies, its golden-robed priests and knights in shining armor, he only attended major celebrations.

Dabbling in Devilry
His first contact with the Church of Asmodeus took place when he was a teenager, through a cousin. He didn't quite take it seriously, but enjoyed the thrill of taking part in a secret, forbidden endeavour. Still, he couldn't help but be seduced by some of its tenets: that might makes right, that ambition is a virtue and power the ultimate reward.
As for the more subtle lessons - the iron fist in the velvet glove, the power of not just a single deception, but layers of it -, he would later come back to, while in jail; he still hasn't fully absorbed them, but he's understood enough that he knows they are his path.

 

~ Trystan as a Tarot draw ~

Cold Beginnings - Ace of Pentacles 0-8 years old
Trystan grew up in the Northern estate of his family, a rocky place battered by the freezing winds. His parents adhere to the traditional wisdom that an austere upbringing will strengthen younglings. This worked for him to some extent, but much of it was corrupted by the luxurious lifestyle he later experienced in the Cambrian Ports; the sharp-tongued gossipers call it being "smothered in silk".

Courtier by day, Warlock by night - The Magician 9-14 years old
His mother, Countess Alicia Elessor, mentored him personally in the magical arts. Divining his strength lay in mind & emotion magic, she pushed fiercely to excel in that field, despite it being held as extremely gauche in puritan Talingarde.

In parallel, he navigated his introduction at court smoothly, earning the praise of the dowagers who make and unmake reputations with a flick of their fan. It was a carefree time, where he got to enjoy dancing, banquets, and playing pranks on his deaf aunt Lucinda.

Dueling - Knight of Swords 16-20 years old
Trystan was a strong participant in the "mock dueling" scene popular among some noble families, performed with blunted weapons. Training from a young age with fencing masters, he had a taste for the clash of blades. His style is impetuous and forceful, but he also knows how to wield misdirection.

His main rival was also his friend, Dario Ultan, who has since joined the ranks of the Knights of Alerion. They are not on speaking terms anymore, not after the crimes Trystan has committed.

Delusions of grandeur - The Emperor, reversed, and The Lovers, reversed 23 years old
Trystan dreamt of catching the eye of Princess Belinda, and was quite the peacock for her. Though she may have entertained the notion for a time, the perceptive lady saw his courting for what it really was, a reaching for power, for a place near the throne; worse, she saw through his mask to the insecure, brutish core of him. That wounded him greatly, and it precipitated the foolish chain of events that led to his fall.

House of cards - The Chariot and The Hierophant, reversed 24 years old
Trystan turned... ugly, for lack of a better word. He had always maintained a coterie of friends and simpering sycophants. He now started manipulating and compromising them.
Indeed, having become determined to acquire temporal power by any means, he built an enterprise of extortion from other nobles, blackmailing them with secrets or threats, like that of a reputation-ending rumour on their wife, their son... In exchange, he demanded money, favours, or more secrets. He subtly used his powers of terror over his prey to crush any will to oppose him.
It was brazen, and this reign of fear could not last: he got denounced, swiftly arrested by sir Balin and the crown's constables, and condemned.

Owing to his station, and the generous bribes his parents showered the warden with, he was granted the use of a luxurious suite made up of several adjacent cells, with a level of comfort not far from what he had enjoyed outside of jail.
Still, he hated it. He cast the blame on everybody but himself, and the thick walls were witness to his endless, frothy nightly rants.

It turned uglier when Osric, a cousin of Princess Bellonda, came to visit him, ostentatiously to make sure he was fine but in truth to taunt him...

 

I - Bloodied Blade

Drip, drip, drip
Trystan watched the droplets of blood fall from his blade onto the carpet, exulting in the thrill of battle and victory. Osric was lying at his feet, unmoving.

The cur had had the gall to come visit for the sole purpose of goading and belittling Trystan. Let that be his final lesson.
But it had happened so fast, almost a blur.

After enduring the snide comments for a while, Trystan started giving as good as he was getting, viciously aiming barbs at the man's insecurities, which he knew quite well. The exchange turned into a shouting match; they were up in each other's faces, about to resort to blows, when Trystan instead pulled Osric's sword from its scabbard, surprising both of them.

Osric took a step back, his face crimson in anger. "You're not allowed a weapon. Give it back!"
"Give it baaack!" mocked Trystan. "Come get it yourself, cad."
Osric's guard outside the room stirred, glanced through the door, then scrambled to interpose herself, drawing her weapon.
Osric made an annoyed sound.
"Stand down, Marla. I'll take care of him myself. Give me your sword."
He was wearing padded leather armor, pauldrons, gloves, and had on sturdy boots, which clearly gave him an advantage over Trystan's fineries and silk slippers.

They started circling each other. Trystan weighed the foreign sword in his hand, judging its balance, adjusting his grip. He was the first to rush in, feint, parry, disengage. He was taking Osric's measure, and his own too, after such a long draught in duels.
The blades clashed again. Trystan's foot slipped half an inch, messing up his balance, and earning him a small cut to the upper arm; he cursed.
Still, he felt confident; Osric's motions were sloppy.

He began methodically dismantling his opponent's defenses, cutting any exposed part he could: thighs, left cheek, right forearm, ... He was wearing Osric down, but the boor didn't even notice before it was too late. They were both getting winded, but Osric's parries were getting slower, his swings wider.

A fencing lunge, perfectly executed: Trystan landed a serious cut to the neck, then he swiped aside the counter and rammed his borrowed sword into the nobleman's guts. When he pulled it back out in a bloody spurt, Osric crumbled, a deathly moan on his lips.

II - Broken and reborn
He had prepared for an attempt at future evasion, but he knew he had to take a chance now. He overwhelmed Marla at once with his mind powers and fear gave her wings - she ran away, incoherent. He borrowed Osric's cloak, his hat and his boots and, after closing the door to his cell, made his way to the first gate, where he ordered the guards to open up the door. Most of them had gone to investigate the commotion caused by Marla, and they let him through easily enough, deceived by his haughty act.

But this was Branderscar, no mere third-rate jail, and there were multiple layers of defense he had to go through to escape. Before he could even reach the next gate, however, he ran into sir Balin. Here, he erred, and he revealed himself when he threw his hatred and spite in the face of the knight, who took them in stride and pulled out his weapons. "Your pitiful, doomed run ends here, Trystan. And know that I'll look in on your family too." This was an opponent of a different caliber from Osric, and the issue was never in doubt, though Trystan would deny it: Balin dismantled him much like he had dismantled his unlucky visitor.

Drip, drip, drip
Trystan felt the blood run down his face in rivulets, some of it falling to the ground but most of it feeding the growing scarlet stain on his tunic. He groaned in pain, stumbled while trying to sit down and instead found himself lying on the floor, dizzy; he could barely breathe. He panicked, let out a strangled animal howl.
Then came the realization: Balin had just smashed his nose in with the pommel of one of his swords. Then followed it up by pummeling him in the back of the head. He had lost.

Trystan was put in irons. Dragged in front of the judge again. Condemned to death for Attempted Murder - sadly, it turned out that Osric was not dead, for they had gotten him to a healer in time. As this was his second crime, there was no leniency to be expected, no requalification to a lesser charge.
Gone were the fineries, the princely suite: nobleman or not, he was treated like the lowest of the low scum. They stuffed him into a narrow cell with four other people. Known as a spellcaster, he was blindfolded most of the time, his hands often tied behind his back - he had to eat from the plate like a pig from the trough.

Yet once the silk was peeled the way, his iron core was revealed. He is managing to endure the abuse, to grow, to plot anew, to make connections with fellow criminals: he found out there are many ways to communicate, even in jail. He dreams of getting back at this stooge of the current order, Balin, who has made himself his nemesis. He grasps at anything to live another day, to hope for another day, wretched as it may be in this little hell on Golarion - until the axe falls.

 

1. Background and Concept Elements covered above
2. Goals for the Character
   - Trystan's goal: Acquire power so as not to be at the mercy of Talingarde's stuffy, stilted society ever again.
   - Player goal: Let him progressively develop his own principles & philosophy, which will mesh Asmodeus' with his personality. Let him get a chance at revenge, at revenges to see which path he will take (I do not know yet! but he is not the type that goes on retaliatory rampage).
3. Secrets About Your Character
   - he has never told anyone, but his pyschic powers are a manifestation of his twin sister, Vera, who was stillborn.
   - he doesn't know that his mother has been trying to broker dark deals to get him released, even at the cost of her soul. It might break his heart if she dooms herself.
4. People That Are Tied to the Character. See above:
   - Friendly: his parents, Alicia and Roland
   - Hostile: Balin, Osric, Princess Bellonda, Dario Ultan (Knight of the Alerion)
5. Memories, Mannerisms, or Quirks
   - he has a juvenile fascination for alliterations, and thinks they make him sound more grandiose and more mature. He is likely to use them in any rousing speech he makes.
   - when fighting, he likes to scrape his blade along the ground. Though it tends to damage weapons, the grating sound irks his opponents more than him.
   - he professes scorn for soothsayers of all ilk, but in truth he is somewhat afraid of prophecies
   - he once wrote a poem to the Princess of the realm about "peach blossoms falling gently to the light-parched ground under the caress of the southern zephyr"... Hopefully she burned it a long time ago.

[Hound]

Originally Posted by droobles

are archetypes core only too?

PS: sneaky way to ask for spheres of might archetype

While there may be some third party material I will allow, for example the unchained ninja variant, I would generally say no. I am specifically trying to avoid spheres and path of war.

[Hound]

Applicants table and FAQ are updated.

A big welcome to triedtherest, abc123, and namo!

Some very cool ideas right out of the gate. Each one hits the mark. I'm very impressed.

[abc123]

Thanks! Please let me know if there's anything I can do to buff up Selene's application.

[Squeak]

Will be applying. Tried the playing this twice, but they both ended way prematurely (never got out of prison).

Concept will be enchantment focused, possibly clerical. I gotta figure it all out. Gesalt is hard.

[Double or Nothing]

In terms of Zeren's role I was thinking of going with a Phoenix Bloodline Sorcerer/Lore Oracle Gestalt.

That would let him handle blasting, knowledge checks, and some healing depending on what the party needs.

Should we make character sheets now to post with our applications?

[Hound]

Originally Posted by Double or Nothing

In terms of Zeren's role I was thinking of going with a Phoenix Bloodline Sorcerer/Lore Oracle Gestalt.

That would let him handle blasting, knowledge checks, and some healing depending on what the party needs.

Should we make character sheets now to post with our applications?

I won't stop you from making a character sheet if you're excited, but I did state in the advertisement that it is not required for selection. This is primarily because I do like to have a session 0 one on one discussion with people before they get too far into the crunchy.

We'll use your character as an example. The sorcerer side, it doesn't really matter which blood line you choose, (Phoenix is by the way super cool and I really like it.), because regardless of your blood line, it doesn't dictate who you are.

On the other hand, the oracle stands out. Its less about the random mutation appearing in your genetic cold, and more about being selected by a god for a purpose.

As this is a book all about Asmodeus, I would assume that logically you're an Oracle of Asmodeus. In that case, the mysteries Lore, Flame, Reaper, Dark Tapestry, they all make more sense. You wouldn't be an oracle of Asmodeus with the Life or nature mysteries. Likewise, your Curse would most likely be Legalistic. Now, if you were a flame mystery, having a blackened curse also makes a lot of sense, but Demonic or Ghoul wouldn't

These are the minor things I would likely talk to you about one on one when moving to the character construction phase.

I hope this makes sense and doesn't feel too restrictive.

[Hound]

Originally Posted by Squeak

Will be applying. Tried the playing this twice, but they both ended way prematurely (never got out of prison).

Concept will be enchantment focused, possibly clerical. I gotta figure it all out. Gesalt is hard.

Focus on the concept. We can always work together on the crunchy bits.