[Characters] Regents of Jade and Jasmine

[Sassafrass]

Once completed, characters will go here.

[Blackfyre]

Ghosteye of the Shriikirri-Quah and Black Moon

Class and Race: Human Hunter

Deity: Polytheistic
Home Region: North central Varisia
Sandpoint Connection: Shalelu helped Ghosteye fend off a fire pelt when it tried to make a meal out of the young woman. That incident was also the one that left her with her scars.
Description: At over six feet tall and athletically built Ghosteye is a prime example of her people. The young woman, who looks as if she may have seen about twenty summers, stands tall and proud, an Ingir rune tattoo prominently visible on her bare, right upper arm. The right side of her head is shaved bare, while thick, black hair falls down over the left. Jagged scars that look as if they had been caused the claws of some savage beast mar the clean shaven side, running all the way down from her the top of her head to her mouth. The claws failed in completely taking out her eye, but where the left one is dark brown, the right is ghostly white.

If not for the scars her face could be called pretty and even delicate with its oval form and small nose, the skin tanned from near constant exposure to the sun and elements. Sleeveless, light armor of studded leather protects her chest and broad leather bands, padded with fur, circle her wrists. Worn leather pants and sturdy boots complement her clothing. A belt that is adorned with various teeth and claws is wrapped around her hips, bola hanging on one side, dagger on the other. The young woman is armed with a long boar spear. Colorful tassels dangle below the weapon’s wings, with several hawk feathers attached to them.

At Ghosteyes’ side a young tiger prowls through the world. The cat is clearly still coming into its own, even though it is already of an impressive size. Around the neck, the outline of a collar that was too tight for too long can still be seen and the fur is lacking some of the luster one might expect. A discolored scar on its nose has likely given it its name: Black Moon.

 

As I hide between some bushes on my father’s estate, I ponder that mysterious power that can rip apart worlds, crush opportunity and lead to endless torment and misery. It blinds to bitter truths. Rips apart families. And yet… and yet so many people strive for it. Wish to experience it. Want to find it in their lives. My mother most certainly was one of those people. And find it she did. Followed it even. Thought it was meant to be. Only when it was too late, when the way back to how things were was barred already, did she find out the devastation that this power can bring when unrequited.

The bored guard is past my hiding place and for the moment I shelf the deliberation. Quickly and quietly I make it across the open area. Every step taking me closer to my goal tonight. To think that I only came here to get a closer look at the man that made my mother a stranger in her own Quah. This arrogant, devil worshiping Chelaxian without a shred of regard for nature and it’s laws. I wonder what I expected, really. He obviously had no qualms to exploit the love - yes, there it is, there the power has its name - the love that my mother had felt for him. Besotted she followed him south, believing that there was a future for them.

What rude awakening it must have been when he finally showed his true self and left her stranded in a world that was foreign to her only to find out not too long after that she was pregnant. At least by then she had come to her senses. Knew that there was no point telling him. So, I did not come to change that. Just wanted to see the bastards face. Well, see it I did, but it is not what brought me back in the middle of the night.

I guess I should not have been surprised that he would abuse natures wild children, seeing with how much disdain he treats his fellow man. A beautiful tiger that will once have looked majestic languishes in a cage hardly large enough for it to turn around, let alone walk around in. On special occasions, or so I have heard, it is put on a leash, calmed with magic and paraded in front of those my father deems worthy to invite for food and drink. I wonder if it makes him feel powerful to have such a great predator eat out of his hands - regardless if it does so willingly or not.

Of course I cannot just stand by and let a powerful beast like that continue to suffer. It belongs in the wilds, free to hunt and roam. And that is how I find myself trying to avoid the guards. Thankfully it is rather easier than expected. The master of the house left earlier with quite the entourage. I have no idea where to and I couldn’t care less as long as he takes his own sweet time.

Rounding a corner I lay eyes on the goal of my incursion. The tiger seems to be asleep in its cage, broad sides bellowing slowly in and out with the calm breath that comes with sleep. Or what passes as such for a cat. As quietly as I possibly can I sneak up to the cage and then around it until I am hidden in the shadows there. I brought some acid that I got in the city so I can deal with the lock. Some fresh meat will hopefully keep the tiger quiet for a bit. I know that getting it to freedom will need more than an open cage door however.

As the tiger stirs in its cage I kneel down in the shadows. A low rumble begins in the beast’s throat and while I make what I hope are calming sounds I get the meat from my pack. As soon as it is close enough for the claws to catch it through the bars, the tiger pulls it inside and greedily begins to devour it. Still kneeling I begin a prayer to the totems of my quah. I beseech the great hunter Firepelt Cougar to rein in the tiger’s natural fury so it may follow me to freedom. I ask the untouchable Cloud to cover the moon so none will see us. I beg the uncatchable Wind to hasten our steps so none may catch us. And finally I entreat the great Hawk to guide our steps so we may find the safest way back into the wild.

I cannot say how long I kneel there. A gust of wind stirs me out of my prayer and when I open my eyes I look straight into the unblinking eyes of the tiger. It seems as if I can see right into the soul of the magnificent beast, as if I can understand its motivations and needs. For an instant it even seems to me that I can feel its suffering. The chafing of the far too tight collar. The ache in the muscles from not being able to stretch, to run, to roam. The distant scream of a hawk rips me back to reality, back into my own body. All doubt is gone, I know the totem spirits watch over me - over us - and favor this endeavor.

Only for a moment I hesitate, making sure that no guards are in the vicinity, before I dissolve the heavy lock with the acid. The tiger growls again and I do my best to communicate to it that I am here to help. It remains wary, but does not jump me when the door finally swings open. Quickly I cover what acid dripped on the ground with sand. In the blink of an eye, and with thick fur brushing against me, the tiger is out of its prison and looks around for a way out of the man-made den. Using some more meat I get it to follow me. The totems are with us indeed and we do not encounter anyone on our flight from the estate’s grounds.

It is only with great difficulty that I manage to keep the tiger from bolting once we make it out. I got one more piece of help for the night: a scroll that will prevent us from leaving tracks. If they wanna catch either of us, they’ll have to really, really work for it.

The magic does its work and side by side we head east at a run, away from Magnimar’s outskirts. I can practically feel the joy radiating off of the tiger as it can finally stretch its legs. The feeling is contagious and holds until the sun rises and I find a nice spot to rest a bit. I have no fear that the tiger might eat me in my sleep, even though I know I should. Before I lie down, I manage to get close enough to remove the collar. "Go. Run. Be free." I tell it. "Just don’t go back the way we came."

Feeling very content I lie down to find some sleep.

When I wake, the tiger is still there.

In wonder I look at it and realize that I must have forged a closer bond during the night than I had realized.

"Well, I guess you’ll need a name now." And while I contemplate that, we set out once more into a shared future.

[Jarl11]

Praeta Mountainforge, Justiciar
Dwarven Female
Praise be to the AbadarJudge of the Gods

Theme song about the consequences of chaotic actions.

Home Region: Mountains north of Riddleport originally. Sandpoint for a while. Most recently Magnimar.
Sandpoint Connection: Adopted by Koya, Foster Brother to Sandru.

Description: Towering at almost four feet, Praeta is nearly as wide as she is tall. Somehow she actually does have a presence of one much larger, likely attributed to her very focused nature and serious expressions. Long rust colored hair frame her pale face and hard brown eyes. A tattoo surrounds her left eye, a gift from Sandru that mostly covers a long scar under her eye. The scar is visible to anyone that can withstand the long, silent looks of judgement and stand close enough to see it. Her attire is formal and well-kept, modern even, with marked leathers, warm fur and finely engraved brass including a small golden key that hangs at her neck and a matching set of scales at her belt. Strong hands grasp unconsciously at items on her belt, be they weapons or tools of the trade, and corded muscle pulses along her neck while she watches.

Background: Having been abandoned in Sandpoint by parents that left and never returned, the young dwarf has never known what happened to them or why. She has come to peace with the fact that she will likely never know. Such is the chaos of a lawless world without walls and ditches. Koya took Praeta in at the Cathedral and cared for the girl along with her own son who was but a babe at that time. It was Sandru that she really took a liking to. As he got older, Sandru took his dwarven sister with him on a merchant caravan ride once or twice, just for fun, until she unexpectedly stepped out of her place and called out a rogue that Sandru was dealing with. She called the man a liar and interrupted the signal he was trying to give. She ended up saving Sandru's life from a deception, and they became indebted to each other ever since - siblings in all but blood. Like most however, they took separate paths. Praeta eventually took up with the priests of Abadar in Magnimar, the biggest center of commerce and trade. She moved out, not ungratefully, to be on her own and to follow her desire to become a priest of the God of Cities. One day while a high priest of Abadar visited the courthouse of Magnimar, they had a chance encounter in the hall. The old priest looked Praeta over and approached her. After exchanging a few inquisitive words, he touched her on the arm and blessed her. He called her a special messenger, one that was to bring the light of civilization to areas of darkness and corruption, to places foreign and without walls. Later that same night, she had a vision - one that she cannot explain well to others but to say that she felt she was visited by an avatar. It gave her an understanding of her role, what she was to do. This was when she developed true devotion and powers began to manifest.

Recently, she has left her training and is visiting her trouble making brother, Sandru, and her ma, Koya.

 

Hero	HP	AC	flat	touch	fort	ref	will	abilities	status
Praeta	10/10	18	17	11	+3	+1	+5	Judgment 1/1, Zeal 1/1, spells 2/2

Memorized	Lvl	Used
Detect Magic	0
Brand	0
Guidance	0
Virtue	0
Prot from Evil	1
Divine Favor	1

[PIG]

Wesh Gabor, Traveling Carpenter
Halfling Male
Novel Alchemist
Deity: Abadar, God of Wealth
Home Region: the Warehouse Docks of Korvosa and the wild frontiers of Varisia
Sandpoint Connection: Rescued by Shalelu

Description: Peering from behind his thin spectacles Wesh observes you with cold blue eyes. His hair is dirty blond, just a shade lighter than the woolly hair on his halfling feet. Making his living as a builder, Wesh is empeckably clean as can be. His glasses are perfectly perched on his nose, his eyebrows arched high and brow furrowed like stone. He wears the colorful garb of Varisia but not well. He seems uncomfortable and ill suited for the clothing. Near the halfling at all times is his white short haired cat, Willow. At all times he is as busy as can be, wether pouring over alchemy formulas, wagons construction, historical contexts, or better cat food formulas.

Background: Shalelu escorted Wesh into Sandpoint one night not long ago when he was attacked by two hellknights and their hires. The mysterious elf maiden saved his life from them. Sheriff Hemlock and the elusive elf have been keeping their eye on the traveling carpenter ever sense then. With his cat Willow, he's locked his self in his room at the Rusty Dragon and ordering his food to be put before his door. He's secretive and strange, holding back on his history.

[PopCultureBard]

Katrina 'Wildkat' Eleksai



Rebel Jadwiga Spiritualist
Exiled Irriseni and Naderi Worshipper

Sandpoint Connection: Friend of the Family. For generations there has been a connection between the Mvashti and Aldwulf's family, dating back to the time when the Ulfen clan were free from Jadwiga influence. This relationship was a point of contention with her own family and she'd often heard the Varsian's name spoken with disgust. When Katrina fled her homeland she sought refuge with the enemy of her enemy and found a new friend in Koya.

Description: Katrina is a product of her homeland. Hair like snow and eyes like ice, pale skin and a tall stature. Her time away from Irrisen has caused her hair to darken to a light blonde and her eyes are often clouded by internal dialogue, but one might still easily identify her Jadwiga heritage. She has adopted the heavy furs and dark colors of the Ulfen people, leaving the light silks and fanciful cloths of Irrisen behind.

She may have left her family behind but the haughty arrogance of the ruling class lives on in her behavior. Even her time in Varisia hasn't been able to dull her sense of self-importance. She remains reliant on others to deal with everyday life, which has become complicated by her current lack of servants and slave labor. Handling tasks like cooking and shopping, things others might regard as simple and pedestrian, presents a challenge for her and she often comes away from them frustrated and irritable. Despite this, she is congenial and contemplative when the situation demands and she makes friends easily.

Background: They were young lovers, protector and protected, in a land of ice and witchcraft. Her, a Jadwiga destined to be a white witch. Him, a witchguard of defiant Ulfen stock. They met in secret, their liasons carried on beneath the nose of the fae to which she was betrothed. Udristi was capricious and fickle like most of his kind, and his attentions were never on her for long, so maintaining the ruse wasn't particularly difficult. Perhaps that is why they became lax in hiding their secret.

As always, secrets have a way of being discovered. In his rage, Udristi had them beaten and burned, disfigured and starved. He severed their ring fingers to mock the jewelry they'd exchanged to bond them. Faced with hopelessness after their escape, the two chose togetherness in death and sunk into the dark and icy depths. Katrina survived, and Aldwulf joined her in his own way. Her flight took her into Varisian wilds in search of a familial enemy with a ghost in the back of her brain.

[Dressedtojazz]

She radiates a thousand suns Brightens the darkness of the night Tears glitter the cheeks of death When she descends her ivory throne Come my brother, aid her cause Let the light embrace you Vile and foul shall perish When she descends her ivory throne - Ikbal Stanza, 3rd tome of the new dawn, 6th book.

ZAHAN NIJAL HIDAD
4th Platoon of the Dry Wind Regiment - Qadiran Army {Granted one month leave}

Zahan Nijal Hidad Deity: Sarenrae, Godess of patience, temperance, compassion and peace. Home Region: Ptaua Estate, Katheer district, Qadira Sandpoint Connection: Childhood friend (and crush) on Ameiko Race: Human, Keleshite Class: Cavalier (Beast Rider/Emissary) Order: Order of the Dragon Sheets: Zahan & Zion Background: There once was three brothers who were tasked with the impossible - share a single father's holdings equally. The eldest, Irhan, argued that despite the specific testimonial from their father - that everything was to be divided equally - he had superior claim as the next head of the family. The youngest, Mujah, slaughtered Irhan in cold blood only three weeks after the death of their father. He swore to defend the realm of his father against imposters and fake claims - underlying a subtle threat against his remaining brother, Zahan. Zahan was a bright follower of the Dawnflower and might possibly have been the best candidate for taking over farm, trade and network from his father, but as his brother closed in on him and lured him with empty promises and false brotherly love, Zahan fled the lands of his people and sought refuge on the other side of the sea. It was an act of desperation and Zahan swore that he, one day, would return to speak with Mujah under controlled circumstances, but time has since slipped his hands and he has yet to tread the orchards and vineyards of his childhood a second time. Upon reaching Varisia, his retainers and mentors brought him to a peaceful settlement where the gulls shrieked in hoarse cacophonia over blue rolling surfs and the local community was extremely well knotted and tied together by both faith, recent events and the drive for progress - be it via theatrical masterpieces, luxurious glass art or endless shipments of carpenting materials. This was Sandpoint. Home of Varisian philosophy and variety. Back then, before the late unpleasantness, the murders, the fires, the raids - Zahan had three stormy teenage years in the town. He came to love the other young of the town. Sandru as a busy friend, Shalelu and Koya as solemn, wise guides - in each their distinct ways - and Ameiko as his first kiss and the target of a deep desire and wholehearted affection. It was brute pressure or effective career planning - depending on who you asked - that forced Zahan to leave the place he called home and the woman he thought as love of his life. Captain Shinaar had him enrolled with the prestigious Dry Wind Regiment of Katheer as initiating their knightly order and Zahan had little to do, but obey orders - after all, he was not the son who had claimed his rightful place after his father. Now, five years later and Zahan a young man of the 4th platoon, he returns to Sandpoint. His unit had been part of an escort to Magnimar and Zahan had been granted a months leave. Soon, he will find himself in the toughest of choices - presented with his old friends in perilous adventure, a bond with his knightly brethren back in Katheer and with them, a chance to take back his family's honor. ̉Year Event 4688 AR Born in Ptaua Estate, Qadira 4704 AR Age 16 Father dies, Mujah kills Irhan, Captain Shinaar arranges for Zahan to flee. Arrives in Sandpoint, meets Ameiko, but hang mostly with the other kids at the academy/orphanage 4705 AR Age 17 Ameiko returns and buys the Red Dragon. Zahan falls in love. They go dancing, hugging, holding hands and flirting - a single (very rememberable) kiss even. 4706 AR Age 18 Captain Shinaar insist that Zahan gets educated. Zahan leaves for Katheer. 4711 AR Age 23 4th platoon of the Dry Wind Regiment partake in an escort to Magnimar and Zahan is granted a month's leave. Description: The air is thick with his smell. Dark, deep leather base topped with vanilla. His black beard is oiled and well groomed. Cut sharp under a prominent chin and framing the smooth chocolate cheeks. Under long lashes and thin high-arching brows rests wise mahogany eyes sharing stories from the heated lands of Qadira with sparkling sincerity. A straight long nose with one nostril pierced by a single pin centers the young face and leaves a notion of slight haughtiness. Dark curls sneak out under the crimson and ivory keffiyeh and line smoothly curved ears - only broken by a golden ring in one earlobe. There is a feathery lightness to the athlete body often garbed in purple silks of rough quality, high richly greased camel skin boots and a selection of color matching pendants, bracers and rings. Four years of soldiering and aspiration to knighthood have set its mark. Honed weapons and effectively packed equipment rests easy on both Zahan and the rear of Zion's saddle. Zion is Zahan's camel - trained for war and harsh environments, it serves him well, but there is an almost tangible bond between the two when traveling. It is as if the camel share some of the dedication and thoroughness that Zahan radiates and likewise does Zion's endless constitution and patience seem to empower its master and rider in some unexpected and highly unnatural way. People will most often refer to Zahan as a gentle soul, overwhelming determination only flaring when the subject is on Qadiran warfare or his family claims. Always willing to help out those with pure hearts and ready to back the process up with an easy attitude and a friendly gold-tooth smile. Zahan is a believer of ever burning light and evaporating of evil. Sarenrae has his heart entirely and he does not greet the day - or wave the dark along - without passing a prayer in her delightful brightness.

Praeta and Zahan Zahan had always, since his first rituals of the sun, seen faith as a personal matter. Sure he had met others that claimed one or another god as the right one, the one with most benefits or the one and only..., but he didn't really care. Meeting Praeta (and her Abadar belief) gave him food for thought. She was often there, when he went to the temple early or late in the day and she was young, in her own dwarven way, like him. They often debated about the border of truths, lies, right and wrong and while the dialogue could be heated and fierce, they were more than often, quite agreeing. Praeta was one of the reasons Zahan got close with Sandru (and Ameiko) in the first place... the gap that Zahan was trying to fill out (from being just another Turandorok Orphanage kid) was bridged by the stout dwarf and her connection with both Koya and Sandru. Zahan thinks highly og Praeta and often think of her as closer to her faith than he finds himself, even though he spends much time praying and often dedicates his deeds to Sarenrae. He also recognized the same loyalty as in his father's captain, Sinaar. Where the Qadiran warrior was loyal to Zahan's claim to the family heritage, Praeta was loyal to truth, order and economic growth as concepts - Zahan valued that over many things. Praeta would have met Zahan in the cathedral the first year - exchanging words of faith and world belief with him. Next year, he would have pushed forward to get introduced to her friends - especially Ameiko. Third year, while being deep in love with the Red Dragon proprietor, Praeta would have found her Qadiran friend to value her views on all matters, ranging from subtle lies about friends, love and Sandpoint rumors over Magnimar intrigues to stories of distant lands in Golarion. After Zahan left Sandpoint to join the Dry Wind Regiment in Katheer, only few letters reached Praeta - all telling stories of a young man having a hard time riding camels and training maneuvers while his heart was elsewhere - not with Praeta, though - in Sandpoint and the lovely Mrs. Kajitsu. The latter was mostly what Praeta could gather and read between the lines. Zahan was pretty oyster-ish about his feelings and kept to, a bit boring, recounts of his training.