[Characters] The Best We Have

[Fragmaster01]

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Important Things Post your application, and a link to your character sheet here! Please keep chatter/rolls out of this thread. 20-point buy, using this table. Character level 2. Starting cash 500 gp, but don't take any items that are essentially "the same, but better". Get a Greatclub instead of an Earth Breaker, it builds character. If you're playing a caster, add up the total of your 1st level spells and bonus 1st level spells from high casting stat. This is your MP pool. It costs 1MP to cast a 1st level spell, 2 for 2nd, and so on. Cantrips are at-will, as normal in pathfinder. Plop that MP down somewhere at the top of the sheet, like the Nonlethal damage box. No favored class bonuses, you have enough toys from your curses. Talk about races and classes above are just background info. Intimidate uses the better of your STR and CHA, and is modified by size. HP is maxed for first level, and you can choose to either roll or take 1/2 the die for 2nd level(but you have to pick one. You can't roll, get a 1, and decide you like something else. Roll in the OOC thread, not here).   Level Stats 0 1d8 SLA damage, 19X2 crit. 1-handed(Medium), 2-handed(Small). 1 Safeguard 2 +1 Bonus 3 Bonus Swap +1 4 Keen 5 +2 Bonus 6 Zephyr Slash 8 +3 Bonus 9 Critical Damage +1d6 10 Whirlwind 11 +4 Bonus 12 Bonus Swap +2 14 +5 Bonus 15 Critical Damage + 2d6 17 +6 Bonus 18 Speed 20 +7 Bonus, Bonus Swap +3 Safeguard: The Sylph's Feather deals 0 damage to you, whether from Backbiter style abilities, enemies using it, or otherwise. Bonus Swap: At the start of the day, you can swap out your enhancement bonus on Sylph's Feather for alternate abilities(like trading in a +1 for Flaming). You can't take a weapon ability stronger than your current Bonus Swap rating, nor can you stack multiple elemental abilities. At level 12, you can swap abilities in 1 hour, and at level 20, in 1 minute. Keen: Critical range increases to 17X2. Zephyr Slash: As a Full Round action, make a single attack at your highest BAB. You move in a 30 foot line, and apply that attack to all enemies in that distance. You ignore Attacks of Opportunity from this movement, but are still subject to terrain/environmental effects. Cannot be performed through rough/missing terrain. Critical Damage +x: You gain +1d6/2d6 Force damage on a critical hit(not multiplied). Whirlwind: As a Full Round action, make a single attack at your highest BAB. This attack is applied to all adjacent targets. Speed: When making a full attack, you gain +1 attack at highest BAB. Doesn't stack with Haste.   Level Stats 0 1d8 PRC damage, X3 crit, 60 foot range. Loud. 1-handed(Medium), 2-handed(Small). 1 Ammo Generation 2 +1 Bonus 3 Armor Penetration 2 4 Ghost Strike 5 +2 Bonus 6 Piercing Shot 8 +3 Bonus 9 Armor Penetration 4 10 Spray/Pray 11 +4 Bonus 12 Safe Attack 14 +5 Bonus 15 Armor Penetration 6 17 +6 Bonus 18 Speed 20 +7 Bonus, Armor Penetration 10 Ammo Generation: The Handcannon copies whatever bullet is placed inside of it, firing a shot without expending any ammunition. This doesn't apply to artifact ammo(if such a thing even exists). Armor Penetration: The Handcannon ignores the first 2/4/6/10 points of physical Damage Reduction on a target due to things like material type(silver) or hardness. Damage reduction specifically against Piercing damage still applies. Ghost Strike: The Handcannon works normally against incorporeal targets. Piercing Shot: As a Full Round action, make a single attack at your highest BAB. This attack is applied to all targets in a 30 foot line. Improves to 60 feet at level 10. Spray/Pray: As a Full Round action, make a single attack at your highest BAB. This attack is applied to all targets in a 30 foot cone. Safe Attack: You can freely fire the Handcannon into melee without danger of hitting your allies. This is a Magical ability. Speed: When making a full attack, you gain +1 attack at highest BAB. Doesn't stack with Haste.   Level Stats 0 Telekinesis 1 Sustenance 2 Fatigue Resistance +2 3 INT+2 4 Low-Light Vision 5 Fatigue Resistance +4 6 Mind Smash 8 Fatigue Immunity/Negative Energy Resistance +2 9 WIS+2 10 Abet 11 Negative Energy Resistance +4 12 Darkvision 120 ft 14 Negative Energy Immunity/Stat Drain Resistance +2 15 CHA+2 17 Stat Drain Resistance +4 18 Blindsense 30ft 20 Stat Drain Immunity, INT/WIS/CHA+4 Telekinesis: You can carry things with your mind! It works exactly like carrying things, except it uses INT in place of STR, and you can't be disarmed. While you have a reach of 15 feet with this power, your threaten range doesn't increase(moving things and accurately attacking are different, you see). Sustenance: Your eating/drinking needs are greatly reduced. Fatigue Resistance: You gain +2/+4/Immunity to resist Fatigue/Exhaustion effects. Low-Light Vision: You see twice as far in areas of low illumination. Mind Smash: As a swift action, add your INT to damage on a melee attack. This is multiplied on a crit. Cooldown 1 hour. Negative Energy Resistance: You gain +2/+4/Immunity to resist status effects caused by negative energy. Abet: As an immediate action, add your INT to AC/Reflex. 1/day. Darkvision: See in the dark. Woooooo... Stat Drain Resistance: You gain +2/+4/Immunity to resist effects that would lower your attributes. Blindsense: Sense things in your immediate vicinity.   Level Stats 0 4 Armor AC, 0 ACheck, 0% Spell failure. Counts as No Armor for purposes of weight/proficiency. 1 Camouflage 2 +1 Bonus 3 +1 Saves 4 Fortification, Light 5 +2 Bonus 6 Myriad Wings 8 +3 Bonus 9 +2 Saves 10 Myriad Shield 11 +4 Bonus 12 Fortification, Medium 14 +5 Bonus 15 +3 Saves 17 +6 Bonus 18 Fortification, Heavy 20 +7 Bonus, +4 Saves Camouflage: +2 to Stealth, +4 when not moving. Fortification: Gain 25/50/100% resistance to sneak attacks. Myriad Wings: As a standard action, you negate the cloak's base +4 AC to gain the ability to hover and fly at a speed equal to your base land speed(maneuverability Good). Lasts up to 1 hour, 10 round cooldown. Myriad Shield: As a standard action, you negate the cloak's Fortification abilities to instead gain a +4 Shield bonus to AC. Lasts up to 10 rounds, 10 round cooldown.   Level Stats 0 +10 Speed, Fitting 1 Kick, Jump 2 Prone Resistance +2 3 DEX+2 4 Skate 5 Prone Resistance +4 6 Wall Run 8 Prone Immunity/Bull Rush Resistance +2 9 STR+2 10 Water Walk 11 Bull Rush Resistance +4 12 Speed +20 14 Bull Rush Immunity/Terrain Mastery 15 CON+2 17 Improved Terrain Mastery 18 Speed +30 20 Freedom of Movement, STR/DEX/CON+4 Fitting: So long as you have feet, these shoes fit. Handy, that. Kick: You deal 1d6 lethal BLG damage on an unarmed strike, and don't provoke AoO. Jump: You gain +2 to Acrobatics, and vertical jumps scale at +3DC/1foot, rather than +4/1. Prone Resistance: You gain +2/+4/Immunity to resist effects that would knock you prone. Skate: You skate an inch above the ground when wearing these shoes, allowing you to gain a +2 to Dodge AC on any round you move more than 5 feet. Wall Run: As a swift action in conjunction with movement, you can move along walls, so long as you begin and end your turn on a stable surface. Bull Rush Resistance: You gain +2/+4/Immunity to resist knockback, overrun, or other bull rush effects. Water Walk: As a swift action in conjunction with movement, you can stand on water and other liquids. Terrain Mastery: You can move through rough terrain without taking speed penalties, and can double-move/charge. Improved Terrain Mastery: You can now run through rough terrain without penalty. Freedom of Movement: As per the spell.   Level Stats 0 Plentiful Spellbook 1 Reference Guide 2 Roleplay 1 3 Cantrip 4 Weakness Hazard 5 Roleplay 1 6 Understanding 8 Roleplay 1 9 Level 1 Spell 10 Copycat 11 Roleplay 2 12 Strength Hazard 14 Roleplay 2 15 Level 2 Spell 17 Swift Roleplay 18 Roleplay 2 20 Roleplay 3 Plentiful Spellbook: This works as a spellbook, holding spells and scrolls inside of it, without any need for extra carrying space. Handy, that. Reference Guide: You are considered Trained in all Knowledge skills, provided you have time to look stuff up. You gain 1 skill point per level that can be spent on knowledge skills. Cantrip: Pick a cantrip off of the Wizard list, you can cast it at will. Weakness Hazard: You can tell generic weaknesses of creatures just by looking at them. Understanding: Once per hour, when hit by an enemy spell/spell-like ability, you can identify what it did as an immediate action without fail. Level 1 Spell: Pick a level 1 spell off of the Wizard list, you can cast it at will. Copycat: When you successfully save against an enemy spell/ability(can't be more than twice your level), you can use it yourself(though at minimum casting specs) within the next 10 rounds(save is WIS based). 1/day. Strength Hazard: You can tell generic resistances of creatures just by looking at them. Level 2 Spell: Pick a level 2 spell off of the Wizard list, you can cast it at will. Swift Roleplay: Roleplay abilities can be used as a Swift action. Roleplay: You gain the ability to copy interesting stats of someone around you, for your own use, as a move action. You pick an ability to learn each time you hit a new Roleplay in the item; you don't get them all at once. Unless otherwise stated, all effects lasts for up to 10 rounds, and take 10 additional rounds before you can use a new Roleplay ability. Name Level Description Attack 1 Copy a natural attack or wielded weapon(bonus limit +1 per Roleplay Ability) from a nearby enemy. Defense 1 Copy some form of elemental resistance(bonus limit Resist 5 per Roleplay Ability) or natural armor from a nearby enemy(bonus limit +1 per Roleplay Ability). Appearance 1 Copy the rough appearance of a nearby enemy(gain a +1/2Level bonus to Disguise). This lasts for 1 hour/level, rather than 10 rounds; cooldown is as normal. Sense 2 Copy some form of vision/scent/etc from a nearby enemy(power limited by your level). Class Ability 2 Copy a class ability/extraordinary quality of a nearby enemy. Attribute 2 Copy an attribute higher than yours from a nearby enemy(bonus limit +1 per Roleplay Ability or the Monster's stat, whichever is less). Form 3 Copy an entire enemy creature; this replaces your normal class abilties, though you use the better of both your attributes for the duration.   Level Stats 0 1d4 BLG damage, X2 crit. 1-handed(Medium), 2-handed(Small). 1 Spell Focus, Mana Pool, Wind Strike, Random Tune 2 Spell Wind 3 +1 Bonus 4 Song of Travel 5 Metamagic Feat 6 Song of Growth 8 Song of Plenty 9 +2 Bonus 10 Song of Trial 11 Air Mastery 12 Metamagic Feat 14 Ever-present Breeze 15 +3 Bonus 17 Improved Air Mastery 18 Metamagic Feat 20 +4 Bonus, Spell Focus: The Flute of the Four Winds serves as a spell focus: playing on it counts as the Somatic/Verbal components of your spell, as well as a Divine Focus if necessary. Mana Pool: The Flute has a Mana Pool equal to your level plus its enhancement bonus, which is used to evoke effects from it. You can spend your MP as a standard action to give it more, but you can't take mana out of it. The Mana Pool refills at the start of the day. Wind Strike: When used as a melee weapon, the Flute deals +1d4 SLA damage. Random Tune: Uses 1d4 MP. If you roll a number greater than the remaining MP, it instead uses all remaining MP. As a standard action, you play a random tune on the flute, and hope for the best. Random effect. Spell Wind: Uses 1 MP. As a swift action combined with a spell cast, you make a spell that would normally have a range of touch take effect at a range of Close(25 + 5/2level). Song of Travel: Uses 2MP. As a standard action, allies within earshot gain +15 move speed and ignore speed penalties from rough terrain for as long as you keep playing(10 rounds max), plus 3 rounds thereafter. Metamagic Feat: Pick a metamagic feat(cannot be Silent Spell) that you meet the prerequisites for; once chosen, it cannot be changed. You can cast spells with this metamagic feat without increasing the casting time, when using the Flute as a Spell Focus. Song of Growth: Uses 3MP. As a standard action, allies within earshot gain a +2 Morale bonus to attack/AC/saves/Spell DCs for as long as you keep playing(10 rounds max), plus 3 rounds thereafter. Song of Plenty: Uses 4MP. As a standard action, allies within earshot heal 2HP per round for as long as you keep playing(10 rounds max), plus 3 rounds thereafter. Song of Trial: Uses 5MP. As a standard action, enemies within earshot take a -2 Morale bonus to attack/AC/saves/Spell DCs for as long as you keep playing(10 rounds max), plus 3 rounds thereafter. Air Mastery: Airborne targets take a -1 penalty on attack/damage rolls against you. Ever-Present Breeze: You don't need to make checks to breathe in environments that would normally suffocate you, like underwater. Improved Air Mastery: You gain a +1 bonus to attack rolls/Spell DC versus airborne targets.

 

Your character has one of these curses laid on them, and it would probably behoove you at some point to try and find some horribly hidden method of removing them. Oddly enough, they're not entirely bad, and generally give you superpowers(like most curses at the start of games do), though they all have annoying side effects. No two people in the party will have the same curse, so keep that in mind.
Curse of the Diplomat: Oh goodness, you're adorable. Regardless of what you used to be, you're now a Pooka, who radiates fluffy goodness, and manages to allow anyone near you to understand spoken languages, regardless of what you tried to curse in. However, they're small, fragile, and colored in a way that clash with most outfits. Your equipment gets resized to match your new form, at least.

Understanding	You and your allies can understand any language spoken in your general vicinity.
Evangelizing	People around you can understand what you say!
Cuteness Proximity	People think you are the most adorable thing around, and have trouble taking your death threats seriously. +2 to Bluff, Diplomacy -4 to Intimidate.
Pooka	You have Pooka as your race, regardless of what your character was born as.

Curse of the Seer: Hmm, your eyes don't seem to be working right. They're solid black, and while they look cool, you're having trouble seeing. You can see magic, and auras, and all sorts of things around you, even when your eyes are closed. However, reading is now impossible(save for arcane marks), and you can't see colors.

Manasight	You have perfect Darkvision.
All-Around Vision	You don't take an AC penalty when flanked(though sneak attacks are still in).
Unreadable	You can't read non-magical text.
Colorblind	You see auras as colors, not what color the object actually is.

Curse of the Innocent: Well, you are the most adorable little urchin. Your mind is nice, and open, and... yeah, you're kinda naive. You don't actually have an alignment(or an entirely good grasp on what good and evil really are), and you don't start with any knowledge skills. Plus side, you're impressively resilient to corruption and mind-affecting things, due to not having those little chinks in your mental armor to play off of(or much mental fortitude at all).

Mental Elasticity	+4 Saves on Mind-affecting spells/effects.
Jovial	Immune to Corruption effects.
Amoral	You have no alignment, and cannot cast or be affected by Alignment based spells.
Young	You're slightly below the normal starting age for your race(think early teens).
Dense	No knowledge skills.

Curse of the Wilds: You have all the powers of the wildlands right in your arms and legs! Okay, so you have the brain of one too: all concept of social graces went out the window. But hey, you can beat the crap out of any problem that comes your way!

Powerful	You gain a 1d6 unarmed strike attack(or +1 damage if your race already had one), and +2 Strength/Constitution.
Wild Child	You don't understand social norms anymore, and think the table is a perfectly good place to sit on. Attempts to reason with you take a -2 penalty, but at the same time, you have a -2 penalty to diplomatize others(it's a real word).
Feral	-2 to Intelligence/Charisma

 

Bwahaha! Those druids always told you that "shapeshifting was hard", and that "you have to be one with nature" to pull it off well. Well you sure showed them. Look at your adorable animal form! Hmm... though it does seem to have negatively affected that humanoid form you liked. Not to mention the whole 'animal instincts' thing is messing up your groove. But hey, pony form!

Animal Form	You have an animal/magical beast form, with a natural attack, +2 to two physical stats, and various passives depending on what you grab(horses are fast, wolves can trip, and so forth). As you level, it becomes more pretty to look at(horse>unicorn, wolf>bigger wolf, and so forth).
Goofy Looking	Your animal form is considered your natural form, and your previous "normal" form is far more animalistic than before. NPCs are likely to look at you funny, or declare you're a were-moose and try to stab you violently(as if there were other ways to stab someone).
Twin Minds	-2 to Intelligence/Wisdom

Curse of the Ages: You last forever! You don't have any age problems anymore, disease/poison aren't a problem, and you don't feel any pain! On the downside, you can't really eat/drink at all anymore, and you have trouble noticing when you're being murdered. Essentially, you qualify as a breathing zombie that doesn't smell(usually).

Deathless	Immune to Age/Poison/Disease.
Painless	Immune to pain effects. If an attack hurts you, but doesn't leave any immediately obvious signs, you may not notice it.
Lifeless	Cannot eat/drink/use potions. Spells that detect living creatures register you as something very odd.

 

Well, this is awkward. You are now the most adorable representation of your race you could possibly imagine. Perhaps a stuffed gnoll, or maybe a goblin doll. Whatever the case, you're the best little construct ever. Not very imposing, but you do heal naturally, which is more than most golems can say.

Deathless	Immune to Age/Poison/Disease.
Resilient	You have a 25% chance to ignore sneak attacks.
Painless	Immune to pain effects. If an attack hurts you, but doesn't leave any immediately obvious signs, you may not notice it.
Living Construct	Healing/inflict spells don't do anything unusual to you, while mending spells heal you. You use the Craft skill to heal yourself, rather than Heal.
Squishy	You only add half your STR bonus to CMD checks for Grapple/Trip/Bull Rush, and your natural attack is lowered by 1 die(1d6>1d4, and so on).
Lifeless	Cannot eat/drink/use potions. Spells that detect living creatures register you as something very odd.

Curse of the Harpy: Well goodness, you're soaring through the sky. Okay, so your arms are now wings, which makes holding things awkward. Don't worry, that's what your talonous feet are for. You'll get used to it, I promise!

Flight	Fly speed equal to your base land speed, with perfect maneuverability. You can hover.
Handless	You have no hands, and have to use your feet to carry/manipulate objects. Gloves are worn on your feet, and you can't wear boots.
Hollow Bones	Your carrying capacity is .75x normal. You can't fly and carry a heavy load at the same time.

Curse of the Mirrors: This'll be hard to explain to the folks. You seem to have been swapped into a form and mindset rather opposite of what you used to be: Ash the shy goblin wizard becomes Astrid the spunky faun fighter, and such forth. The mental chaos that's resulted doesn't seem to have helped very much either.

Multiple Experiences	You gain +1 skill point/level, and a bonus feat at character creation.
Twisted	Your Max HP at 1st level is 8+CON, regardless of what hit die you would normally have. Similarly, your 1st level saves are scrambled(a fighter might wind up with +2 Will rather than Fort).
Radar Noise	Your presence is immediately obvious to anyone trying to actively Detect you based on race/alignment, due to your curse. Passive spells(like an alarm that triggers based on the race of anyone who enters) will instead detect you as being of neither race/alignment.
Yes, it Blends!	Your starting equipment(barring necessary items like a spellbook/starting weapon) and 1st level skill points are completely wrong for your character, instead applying to an opposite class(a martial instead of a magical, and so forth; 2nd level skill points are allocated correctly). Your known language is for the race you used to be, rather than what you are now.

 

Elves, Wood	Medium	These elves are much smaller than their normal kin(averaging about 5 feet tall), with ears similar to what most half-elves would have outside the woodlands. They're great with magic, and generally insist on wearing fancy colorful clothing to go with their lack of fur or thick skin. They favor Clerics, Fighters, and Wizards. +2 any.
Gnolls	Medium	Hyenafolk who moved into the jungle a few hundred years back. Nicely tribal, they stick to their own kind and set out their own hunting territory, which you're not supposed to go into under penalty of nom. Powerful physically, though a bit gruff. They favor Barbarians, Inquisitors, and Paladins. +2 Str/Wis, -2 Cha.
Goblins	Small	These little humanoids love to tinker and mess with their clockwork objects, and are generally the most advanced race in the woodlands. Fluffy forearms/forelegs, with the most adorable goatees on the men. Often Grey/Dark green skinned. However, they're not well liked, and generally sneer at other races. Weak, but good sneakthieves. Their race favors Artificers, Rogues, and Witches. +Con/Int, -Str.
Ormu	Medium	Snakey folk(some 9-11 feet long), with scales all along their body, and a generally wiggly attitude. Ormu look something like this. They tend to live in the trees, and don't see the point of having legs. They're good at grappling enemies, and generally being sneaky and silent, though jumping is a foreign concept. They favor Psions, Rogues, and Soulknives. +2 Dex, Int, -2 Str.
Pooka	Small	These little(2.5-3.5 feet) lop-eared rabbit-like creatures are positively adorable. They're not common in the woodlands, and in fact, the only one in the party will be the one with the Curse of the Diplomat, so keep that in mind. They're wonderful talkers, and are stronger than their size would suggest, though they take damage easily. Their race runs the gamut, classwise. +Dex/Cha, -Con.
Satyri/Fauns	Medium	Technically two races, one goat, one deer. They're similar to the wood elves on their upper body, complete with the lack of body hair, but they have the fuzzy where it counts. Also horns and fluffy ears, can't forget those. They're great partiers, and quite swift of foot, though lacking in common sense. They favor Bards, Druids, and Monks. +2 Str/Cha, -2 Wis.
Toves	Medium	Lizardfolk, similar to humanoid geckos(if geckos had hair on their heads/feet). They're very flexible, and generally enjoy laying back and having a good time. Not all that bright, but they're generally cheerful folk. They favor Oracles, Rangers, and Sorcerers. +2 Con/Wis, -2 Int.

 

Short summary of Doom.(doom!) All races are Medium size and Speed 30 unless otherwise stated.

Race	Adulthood	Standard Starting Age	Height	Weight	Gender
Elves, Wood	26	38	4'10"	90	No body hair. Elven women tend to gather fat in their hips.
Gnoll	14	17	6'3"	190	Gnoll men have scragglier hair. The women tend to be busty.
Goblin	15	18	4'2"	75	Goblin women tend towards petite figures, and they still have the fur on their cheeks(just no beards).
Ormu	19	23	9'8"	210	Tend towards smaller breasts. The women have more colorful/intricate stripe patterns.
Pooka	18	22	3'1"	45	The women have tails that curl upwards.
Satyr	16	20	5'7"	140	As humans, though the women tend to have smoother fur.
Tove	20	25	5'8"	155	Tove women don't have breasts(silly lizards). This makes it hard to tell them apart from the men for other races(hint: it's the hips).

Elves, Wood Stats: +2 Any. Skills: +1 Skill Point/Level Class Skill: Pick any skill, it's now a class skill for you. Equipment: Wood Elves have no equipment restrictions. Low Light Vision: See twice as far in dark areas. Piercing Vision: They take half penalties on Perception checks for distance. Racial Power(Detect Magic): As the cantrip Detect Magic, except it's considered Always On, and doesn't need casting.

Gnolls Stats: +2 Str/Wis, -2 Cha. Skills: +2 Intimidate, Survival. Class Skill: Survival is always a class skill for Gnolls. Equipment: Gnolls have no equipment restrictions. Hardy: You gain a +1 Racial bonus to Fort saves. +1 Natural AC: Thick fur is nice. Adaptable: You only take a -2 penalty for using weapons you aren't proficient in/improvised weapons. Scent: You can detect creatures through scent. Unarmed Training: You gain Improved Unarmed Strike as a bonus feat. Racial Power(Magic Fang): As the 1st level spell Magic Fang, except with a range of Self, a bonus equal to 1/4 your character level(round up), and a casting time of Swift. Usable 1/day at 1st level, 2/day at 8th, and 3/day at 16th, lasts for 10 rounds.

Goblin Stats: +2 Con/Int, -2 Str Skills: +2 Appraise, Disable Device. Class Skill: Disable Device is always a class skill for Goblins. Equipment: Goblins need small-sized equipment. Camoflauge: +2 to Stealth in forested areas. Short: Base Land Speed 25. Springy: +2 to Initiative. Teamwork: Gain +1 to AC/Reflex when fighting adjacent to an ally. Darkvision 60 feet: You can see in the dark. Racial Power(Call to Mind): You can store one Light Weapon or equivalent object(or a number of smaller weapons/objects) in a pocket space, and call it out as drawing a weapon. Improves to 1-handed at 3rd level, 2-handed at 6th, and 2-handed(Medium size) at 9th. Stored objects automatically come out if you are dispelled or knocked unconscious.

Ormu Stats: +2 Dex/Int, -2 Str. Skills: +2 Escape Artist, Stealth. Class Skill: Escape Artist is always a class skill for Ormu. Equipment: Can't wear shoes. Wiggle: +2 to CMD versus Bull Rush/Trip. Constrict: +2 to CMB on Grapples. You can freely use your unarmed strike in grapples. Hang: You can take actions while hanging from objects you can wrap around, like tree branches and poles. Nom: Ormu can deal 1d4 lethal piercing damage on an unarmed strike(+1 to unarmed strike damage if Monk). Racial Power(Ormu Sting): When you hit with a bite attack, target must save(DC = 10+CON+1/2Level) or take 1d2 DEX/1d2 DEX damage, as a poison. Targets who succeed against an Ormu Sting attempt are immune to further attempts for the rest of the day. You can only make 1 attempt every hour(improves to every 10 minutes at level 3, every minute at level 6, and every 1d4 rounds at level 12).

Pooka Stats: +2 Dex/Cha, -2 Con. Skills: +2 Diplomacy, +2 Sense Motive Class Skill: Diplomacy is always a class skill for Pooka. Equipment: Pooka need small-sized equipment. Short: Base land speed 25. Willed: +1 to Will Saves Diplomat Powers: They naturally get some, but are replaced by the much better Curse of the Diplomat powers above. Sproing: Vertical Jumping checks with Acrobatics increase at a rate of +3/1foot, rather than +4/1. Racial Power(Message): As the cantrip Message, except the casting time is Swift, and it remains on as long as you use the power. The communication becomes mental at level 8.

Satyri Stats: +2 Str/Cha, -2 Wis. Skills: +2 Acrobatics, +2 Perform OR Survival(pick one). Class Skill: Acrobatics is always a class skill for Satyri. Equipment: Satyri need boots modified for their hooves/helmets modified for their horns. Fast Movement: Satyri have a base land speed of 35 feet/round. Fearless: You gain a +2 Racial bonus to saves versus [Fear] effects. Hardy: You gain a +1 Racial bonus to Fortitude saves. Hooves: You gain +2 to CMD to avoid falling prone. Punt: Satyri deal 1d6 lethal bludgeoning damage on an unarmed strike, and don't provoke AoO for using it. Satyri Monks instead have +1 damage. Racial Power(Dash): As a swift action, gain +10 to speed for the rest of the round. Can be used 1/day for every four levels you have(round up).

Toves Stats: +2 Con/Wis, -2 Int. Skills: +2 Acrobatics, +2 Perception. Class Skill: Perception is always a class skill for Toves. Equipment: Clothing needs to be modified for their tails. Evasive: You gain +1 Dodge AC/Reflex. Low-Light Vision: Toves see twice as far in areas of low-illumination. Scent: Toves can use Perception and Survival to detect/track by scent. Weapon Finesse: As a bonus feat. You don't need to meet the prerequisites. Racial Power(Know Direction): As the cantrip Know Direction, except you can tell the direction to anywhere you've been in the past day, in addition to due north.

 

Wood Elves The current leader of the Wood Elves is Aesha Kennan, a Fighter who specializes in thrown weapons and stabby implements. Wood elves generally live on the ground, in proper towns. The best wood elven fighters get giant leopards as mounts, though these are too few in number to spread around. Experienced Wood Elves tend to become Wizards, and craft all sorts of funky spells to keep locked away in pretty looking books. Wood elven society prefers swords, bows, and prepared magic in combat. They rarely use bludgeoning weapons. The Wood Elven capital is Aeternam, a city of 12,000 or so built into a massive Druid-crafted wooden shell. They're very proud of the place, with all its artificial lighting, wood golem guardians, and so forth. It serves as a center of magical learning and fabrication, from which outlying towns bring their nom to sell, and the Aeternites trade manufactured goods and minor enchanted items. They're the race most likely to have ornate jewelry in their clothing. They prefer a variety of garments, generally with flowy parts like tabards and mantles attached.

Gnolls The current leader of the Gnolls is Doran Kasshak, a retired Ranger. Gnolls live in small tribal villages, for the most part. Their capital, Kasshak, is an exception, being one of the largest cities in the Woodlands. They don't have widely used mounts. Experienced Gnolls tend to become Shifters(an order of Druids), and it's quite possible that many fierce looking animals in their realms are actually Gnoll scouts. Gnoll society prefers all sorts of melee and thrown weapons. They're not often seen with bows. The Gnoll capital is Kasshak, a huge settlement of nearly 40,000 gnoll. It's an entirely self-inclusive place, mostly made out of carved sandstone, feeding themselves with pocket farms and ranches. The difference in town style from the small tribal gatherings of the Gnoll realm is so vast, that they are often disparagingly mocked as being somehow "improper" or "not true gnolls". About 20,000 of these gnoll are an "underclass" of sorts, being given lame and underpaying jobs in exchange for minimal laughter in their direction. Gnoll clothing is generally simple, and often quite sparse. Fur does most of what they need anyway.

Goblins The current leader of the Goblins is Ryzz Ner'man, a deranged artificer. They live in river valleys and cliff-side dwellings, for the most part. They like to dig, you see. They use wargs as mounts, when they need to go places. Experienced goblins become Artificers, and craft strange things to sell to unwary tourists. Goblin society prefers polearms, crossbows, and traps. They're not often seen with longblades. The goblin capital is Netherwarren, a dual-city existing both inside a large river-valley, and extending into vast tunnel networks below ground. The population is unknown, due to all the smaller underground towns that are vaguely related to it, though it's commonly assumed to be over 30,000 goblin, with a few stray kobold servants from the Outlands. Goblin clothing is similar to Elven clothing, though more earthy in color, and generally involving spiffy hats rather than jewelry.

Ormu The current leader of the Ormu is Erriadi Salesh vi Purrsa, a rather androgynous psion. They're generally tree snakes, living in treetop dwellings, though some Ormu towns are on the ground. They don't use mounts, and are unsure how that would work anyway. Experienced Ormu tend to become Treedwellers(an order of Rogues), who can easily climb and wiggle from tree to tree, ignoring movement on the ground. Ormu society prefers shortblades and battle magic. They're not often seen with ranged weapons. The Ormu capital is Gran Ormu, which doesn't technically exist in the Woodlands(being made up of a number of portal network hubs in various demi-planes crafted by the Ormu). There are entrances all over Ormu territory, but the actual town exists outside of the Material Plane, in a floating town made of shaped crystal. The town itself only has 5,000 wigglers inside, though they're growing it slowly and surely. Ormu tend to ignore clothing. When they do dress up, it tends to involve skirts and robes.

Pooka Not much is known about the few Woodlands pooka. They tend to stick to themselves, due to bad memories of being eaten by the Gnolls and Ormu.

Satyri The current leader of the Satyri is Ariadne Lorcus, a Faun Druid. Rather than gender divisions, Satyri society tends to be divided among the Satyrs(hunter/gatherers) and Fauns(farmers/craftgoats). They don't use mounts, being fast enough as is. Experienced Satyri tend to become Spellsingers(an order of Bards), who use enchanted flutes to confuse/charm/pick up everyone in the nearby area. Satyri society prefers unarmed attacks in combat, and tend to disdain 2-handed weapons. The Satyri capital is Bacchae, a lovely hillside town alongside a series of cascades, where they gather to create only the best forms of intoxication and nom. It has about 12,000 satyrs and fauns at any given time. Satyr clothing tends to involve light coverings on the upper body, and shorts on the lower half. Kilts have gone out of fashion these days.

Toves The current leader of the Toves is Torreal Tarandia, a shapeshifting Witch. They live in lake-side villages, eating fish and relaxing on the shoreside. In the water, they ride giant eels as mounts. They don't have land-based mounts. Experienced Toves become Divers(an order of Rangers), who learn how to passively breathe water, for loitering underwater to find interesting things or grabbing fish. Toves run the gamut, weapons wise, though they're not often seen with throwing weapons. The Tovian capital is Tarrashi, a lake city built on stone "islands" that jut out into the lake proper, with a reasonable section of the town actually underwater. When pointed out that this is a rather impractical and expensive way to make a city, the Toves just shrug, and point out the awesome view from the lake-bed. It numbers about 25,000 Toves, and is the most likely city to have random stragglers from other races. They don't usually wear shirts. Clothing involves pants, and the things that dangle from the pants(often shawls or belts).

Other Sentients There's a band of ratfolk in the marshy delta in the south-east. They don't talk much, and they get out even less. They think you smell. Bandersnatches(a fire-breathing race of slothfolk) are quite rare, but they exist. One leads up the Black Mask Bandits in the northern mountains. Nymphs and other mischievous fey wander about here and there. They're not averse to using their levels in Sorcerer/Witch to troll people who get too close.

 

You get one of these. They increase in power as you do, and are generally very fashionable! Who gets what doesn't really matter based on race, the races are just mentioned as flavor.

Sylph's Feather	Longsword	This powerful greenish-yellow blade was the weapon of the elves way back when. It has the nice touch of dealing exactly 0 damage to the Chosen Wielder, even when juggled by the edge. Good at killing things, with lots of weapon enchantments.
Horrible Hoary Handcannon of the Heavens	Pistol(Medium)	This was given to the goblins by an outsider human in days gone by, for doing cool things. They never figured out how it worked entirely, but this did advance goblin tinkering by many generations. It magically replicates a bullet placed in the gun, propelling it at excessive speeds towards it target, where it then disappears after 6 seconds. Loud, but infinite ammo, and gains the ability to ignore damage reduction as it grows.
Voluminous Tome	Spellbook	This Pooka-crafted book holds far more pages than its size would suggest, serving as a great repository for any prepared caster, as well as having an immense reference guide on anything you could hope to find in the woodlands, boosting your knowledge skills significantly. Its writing counts as Magical for the purpose of Curse of the Seer characters. Boosts spellcasting for casters, and grants evoked monster abilities for non-casters.
Flute of the Four Winds	Rod	This Satyri crafted flute, while useful to Bards, can also help anyone of the Naturey background, coming with a large set of evoked abilities depending on what sort of class you may follow. It's also sturdy and resilient enough to beat the crap out of people in battle, and doubles as a divine focus, ensuring you never have to take your hands off a weapon to use your powers. When all else fails, you can play a random tune and hope for the best.
Myriad Cloak	Cloak	This Tovian mithril cloak gives all the benefits of armor, without actually any of the drawbacks, or even taking up the armor slot. It also changes color to match your surroundings, while still attempting to not clash with your normal wardrobe(machine washable too, if you happen to find one of those). Lots of defensive enchantments.
Boots of the Traveller	Shoes	These shoes, once owned by the Gnolls, change to match any wielder(even a satyr or a Curse of the Harpy character), and allow them to move with all sorts of prowess. Running on slippery surfaces, standing on water? It's all cool when your feet are adorned with these babies.
Ring of the Magi	Ring	Crafted by the Ormu long ago. This empowering ring enables you to keep going longer than you should, resisting fatigue for fighters, granting extra spell usage for casters, and also grants an effortless expenditure of telekinesis, to allow you to pick your nose discreetly.

 

Casters will use an MP system, with MP equal to the total spell levels you can cast(including bonus levels from high casting stats). Your characters don't lose any casting ability, just gain more flexibility in what they can cast(no need to pick out exactly how many casts of what you want as a prepared caster).
Clerics will use spellbooks, ala Wizards(though they're still rather spontaneous, due to MP). Druids will be spontaneous casters, with spells known. Paladins/Rangers unchanged.
Ignore alignment requirements for classes aside from Cleric/Paladin. So yes, you can make that chaotic monk that learned how to punch things by beating up trees for years.
No third-party classes without approval. No gunslingers(play a fighter/ranger instead). Magus/Psionics allowed. I have an artificer class if someone wants(though note that the only race with a suitable background for it is a Goblin).
No favored class bonuses, you have enough toys from your curses. Talk about races and classes above are just background info.
Intimidate uses the better of your STR and CHA, and is modified by size.
Pathfinder likes lots of little items that are "the same, but better and more expensive". I don't. Use generic items like a greatclub rather than an Earth Breaker in your inventory.
The H-H-Handcannon is the only handheld gun in the Woodlands, for the most part. If you don't pick it, you can't have a gun.
Ormu can't use the Boots of the Traveler, due to lack of feet.
Curse of the Innocent characters can't be paladins or alignment-domain based clerics, due to lack of alignment.
Curse of the Seer characters who use prepared casting will want to take the Voluminous Tome, so they can use their spellbook.
Curse of the Diplomat characters who take the Sylph's Feather or H-H-Handcannon can choose to have them not resize for their curse. This makes the sword effectively a Small Greatsword, and the gun requiring two hands(you know, like you're supposed to use anyways).
If I pick someone with a specific curse that you wanted, but I like your character, I'll work with you on that. So don't worry too much about applying someone to a curse with lots of applicants.

 

HD: d6
Skill Points: 8+INT
Weapons: Simple weapons, Crossbows, Guns.
Armor: Light Armor, Shields.
Spellcasting: Artificers cast [Arcane] magic, taken from a subset of the Sorcerer/Wizard list. They must prepare their spells.
Class Skills: Appraise(INT), Bluff(CHA), Craft(INT), Disable Device(DEX), Fly(DEX), Knowledge: Any(INT), Linguistics(INT), Profession(WIS), Spellcraft(INT), and Use Magic Device(CHA).

Level	BAB	Fort	Ref	Will	Special
1	+0	+0	+0	+2	Mad Science(2/day), Craft Firearms
2	+1	+0	+0	+3	Evocation Specialist +1
3	+2	+1	+1	+3	Basic Science Ability
4	+3	+1	+1	+4	Craft Magic Ammunition
5	+3	+1	+1	+4	Mana Charge
6	+4	+2	+2	+5	Basic Science Ability, Expanded Knowledge
7	+5	+2	+2	+5	Mad Science 3/day
8	+6	+2	+2	+6	Evocation Specialist +2
9	+6	+3	+3	+6	Basic Science Ability
10	+7	+3	+3	+7	Fast Crafting
11	+8	+3	+3	+7	Expanded Knowledge
12	+9	+4	+4	+8	Improved Science Ability
13	+9	+4	+4	+8	Mad Science 4/day
14	+10	+4	+4	+9	Evocation Specialist +3
15	+11	+5	+5	+9	Improved Science Ability
16	+12	+5	+5	+10	Expanded Knowledge
17	+12	+5	+5	+10	Thrifty Crafting
18	+13	+6	+6	+11	Improved Science Ability
19	+14	+6	+6	+11
20	+15	+6	+6	+12	Master Artificer, Evocation Specialist +4

Spells Prepared Per Day

Level	0	1	2	3	4
1	3	1
2	3	2
3	4	2
4	4	2
5	4	3	1
6	5	3	1
7	5	3	1
8	5	4	2
9	6	4	2	1
10	6	4	2	1
11	6	4	3	1
12	6	4	3	2
13	6	4	3	2	1
14	6	4	3	2	1
15	6	4	3	3	1
16	6	4	3	3	2
17	6	4	3	3	2
18	6	4	3	3	2
19	6	4	3	3	3
20	6	4	3	3	3

Mad Science: Artificers aren't the greatest spellcasters around, preferring instead to create devices that use a mixture of strange chemicals and mana charges to create their desired effects. An Artificer can craft an [Evokable] item using any [Arcane] spell effect he knows, or has access to through a scroll/spellbook(so long as it is of a level that he can cast). The item costs as normal for an item of that type(barring any extra enchantments/quality improvements he wishes to put on it), and he can place a number of spell levels worth of effects equal to his Artificer level, spread over all his Mad Science items. An effect so created can be used twice per day, with the usual casting time, though without any Somatic or Verbal components. Spell effects that require experience cannot be duplicated; spell effects that use expensive material components must have the components attached to the item before use.
It takes 1 hour per spell level to attach an effect to an item. The artificer may choose to scrap spell effects from an item, so as to free up his limit to attach new spell effects. The number of uses/day of any spell effects increases to 3/day at level 7, and 4/day at level 13.
Craft Firearms: Artificers gain the Craft Firearms feat at 1st level, even if they don't meet the prerequisites.
Evocation Specialist: Artificers are skilled at using [Evokable] items created by others. When using such an item, they add +1 to the attack/caster level of the item, provided this does not increase it over what the attack/caster level would be if they were casting the spell normally. This bonus increases to +2 at level 8, +3 at level 14, and +4 at level 20.
Craft Magic Ammunition: At level 4, Artificers gain the Craft Magic Ammunition feat, even if they don't meet the prerequisites. They gain additional methods of using this feat, as detailed at the end of the class writeup.
Mana Charge: At level 5, Artificers gain the ability to transfer some of their mana into an [Evokable] item. As a full round action, they can replenish 1 charge of such an item by spending twice the normal MP cost of the effect reproduced. This extra charge must be used within the next hour, or it is lost.
Expanded Knowledge: At levels 6, 11, and 16, the Artificer learns an additional spell, chosen from the Wizard spell list, rather than his normal list. He must be able to cast this spell to learn it.
Fast Crafting: At level 10, the Artificer has become so skilled in creating items that he can do so far more rapidly. Items made through [Crafting] feats take 25% less time than normal to make.
Thrifty Crafting: At level 17, the Artificer has learned to make do with less. Items made through [Crafting] feats cost 25% less in gp/components than normal to make.
Master Artificer:
Abilities marked with a * can only be used one at a time.

Science Ability	Type	Description
Crafting	Basic	Gain a [Crafting] feat, you must meet the prerequisites.
Overload*	Basic	Use up 2 charges on one of your Mad Science items, the attack increases by +2.
More Power!*	Basic	Use up 2 charges on one of your Mad Science items, the damage increases by +1 per die.
Maintenance*	Basic	Use up 2 charges on one of your Mad Science items, the duration increases by 50%.
Secondary Ammo	Basic	You can apply Alchemical Power Components to your Mad Science items, as you would with spells.
Metamagic Science*	Basic	Spend twice the MP you would normally have to for a Metamagic feat that you know, you can apply this feat to a use of your Mad Science items. You can only apply one Metamagic feat at a time.
Extra Science	Basic	Increase the total spell levels you can have on your Mad Science items by 1. This increases to +2 at level 9, and +3 at level 17.
Materials Expert	Basic	Decrease the DC of crafting items with special materials like Mithril by 1, and only increase the crafting time for using such materials by 50% of the normal increase.
Sturdy Construction	Basic	Increase the HP and hardness of items you make by +2.
Master Smith	Improved	Decrease the DC of crafting items of Masterwork quality by 1, and you don't increase the crafting time to make an item masterwork.

Role	Talkabout
Offense	Guns kinda work for long range offense, but they're better at using SCIENCE to blast people.
Defense	They're pitiful at this.
Support	They can do this in a pinch, should they craft proper Mad Science items for it.
Healing	They're pitiful at this.
Skill	They're very good at this. High skill points, lots of class skills.
Diplomacy	They're okay at this, but Charisma isn't really their main stat.
Scouting	Aside from skills in the right places, they're pretty lame at this.
Utility	Yes indeed. Most of their powers are straight up Utility powers, and Mad Science just helps out even more.

[Frogman]

Name: Soilir "Mother of Ravens" Mailtrea
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Witch 2
Gender: Pink
Curse: Diplomat (I like the idea of a witch rendered adorable)
Ancestral Weapon: Tome, boots, ring...really doesn't matter

Pookafication!

 

Background:

 

Soilir grew up in the typical elvish way, loving parents, endless slow learning, long walks in the woods with local silviculturalists and of course the requisite "stand around and look pretty" ceremonies and festivals in honor of nature. Like many women of her family she went into the "stand around and look pretty" elvish cult of swan worship. Her heart wasn't in it and after a couple of years though these ceremonies become intensely boring to those who don't like silver-robed harmonized singing near flocks of swans. So one day while stuck in yet another swan song Soilir did something rather uncommon among elvish youths. She intentionally sang badly, tossing off her dress robes and cawing like some sort of drunk raven. This was followed by another fine elvish tradition, the great narrowing of the eyes of the elders. Soilir was called to the council where she was asked why she had behaved so poorly.
Well, I'm going to be alive for hundreds of years and I'd rather spend it doing something than standing around and looking pretty. The swans don't even care about the singing; they're really more interested in the bread the kids throw into the pond!
The elders called a recess. After what seemed like hours of waiting for the end of the "huddle of discussion" it was decided that she would be sent to the edge of town to study with The Wise Woman.
The Wise Woman as it turns out had been dead for several years but nobody had noticed probably because nobody was going to regularly visit the woman who cackled at everything and was rumored to be able to melt things like candles, ice and hair with a gaze. Soilir was stuck with the awkward task of burying a stranger. The only thing she left behind was a large raven who revealed it could speak by delivering a eulogy much to she shock of Soilir.
So dearie, you want to learn magic? it asked once Soilir had reemerged from the locked cottage. Soilir of course agreed and has been living as the Wise Woman ever since. Sure she still visits her parents but come on, she's got her own, albeit creepy, place now.
At some point Soilir was asked by the Raven is she wanted something of great worth and power to which Soilir said Yes of course why wouldn't I? which brought her to the place where the ancestral items were.

Appearance:

 

Soilir is tall and thin for a wood elf as if she had been attached to a taffy puller and been stretched thin. She has a round, pleasant face with deep green eyes and long red hair which is almost never allowed out of its braid prison. She has several bone earrings through her left ear which were probably obtained to irritate an authority figure.
Soilir dresses practically, loose, brown pants, boots and a loose green and white shirt. When she's working she also puts on a long cloak covered in raven feathers and a weird black skirt-thing because you need to look the part if you're going to be a witch

.
Personality:

 

As the new Wise Woman, Soilir has made a point of acting mysterious around strangers but because of a lack of practice it usually ends up being vague, confusing or irritating instead of eerie. She wants to be the powerful mystic full of riddles, insight hidden by rumor and enigma and so will try at every opportunity to pass herself off as this by speaking in koans or calling everybody "dearie", "my child" or something similar.
Complicating this is Soilir's impatience and pragmatism. She would rather attack problems head on than flit about their edges. Soilir also sarcastic and very self conscious which makes it difficult for her to buy her own act. She is also aware that her act is getting her nowhere when it comes to being close to others and is lonely in the company of none but her Raven.
She has problems with authority and resents being forced by law, tradition or threats into uncomfortable positions.

RP:

 

Soilir sat outside her cottage fuming, poking the fire with a stick as if it were a troublesome piece of garbage in a municipal park and she was some kid given a picker and a bucket and told to clean up. It was mid afternoon and the woods were foggy and cold. The trees looked like skeletal hands in the gray light. The nearby pond's water had been replaced with mercury by the overcast sky. She sighed and continued to fume. The Raven was being a nuisance today talking nonsense of "Your magical destiny requires you to cultivate an aura of mystique" and "You're not nearly creepy enough,".
Should I go back home? Sure I like magic as much as the next elf but the scenery and the company are so stellar it's overwhelming.
A branch snapped in the forest followed by footsteps. Soilir quickly ran inside and grabbed the ravens cloak, making sure the hood was up and the feathers were fluffed for maximum mysteriousness. When she reemerged she bent over the fire again casting harsh chiaroscuro shadows.
It's a good thing it's foggy today. This effect would be ruined on a sunny day.
Soon enough another elf appeared, well, dressed and male. He sat down nervously opposite her at the fire.
Oh wise woman. I have a question that only you can answer.
What is it dearie? she asked in her creaky door voice.
I found these pictures in my son's room. I think he may be cursed. the elf said fumbling papers over to Soilir. She made sure to snatch them and look them theatrically.
They're pictures of naked elves...men...women...
Er... Soilir began before resuming her creaky door voice, How old is your son?
20 winters, he replied.
Ah yes...The beanstalk grows quickly in the spring time.
What?
The bird calls out for a mate.
What?
Puberty. she said flatly dropping her character, Go home, have a nice long talk, and come back when you have a real problem, ok?
When the elf man had gone the Raven landed on a nearby branch cackling at the top of his bird lungs. Soilir resumed poking the fire with renewed vigor.

[JonnyGulliver]

Name: Tinkerer Gnarl Make-It-Work
Race: Goblin
Class: Artificer
Gender: Hombre
Curse: Seer OR Innocent
Ancestral Weapon: Horrible Hoary Handcannon of the Heavens
Appearance: Green, Gritty, and Geared up in mismatch armor, he is a walking shamble of trinkets and gizmos
Personality: Innovative. He tends to approach any problem analytically, and tries to conjuer up the easiest solution to any situation. In a society that often gets used in cannon fodder, he has lived a surprisingly longer then expected by taking the cautious approach. In a combat situation, he finds the clash of blood and steel distastful.

 

After reasoning that there is only so much one can do when exhausted, and that going up against such odds is nothing short of suicide if he is not at full energy, it is resolved that rest is in order. Funnily enough, it would seem that the Smithy within town maintains odd hours, and is more that happy to adapt Dio's weapon and work all night on the masterpeice given the amount of coin Dio is willing to pay.

The Inn, proving too... furbrished? for his likings instead has Diodesius wandering to the middle of the wildlands outside the city for comfort. He stays awake for a little while, listening to the sounds of screaming and battle, cursing himself gently as waves of exhaustion finally take over him, dragging him once again toward his nightmares...

 

It begins as it always begins, in a field on a sunny day, with warm sweet scented breezes rustling through yet to be seen wheatfields. He is staring at the sky, his first tangible memory that terrible, terrible day. What a pity, Dio thinks as he continues to scan the horizon at gently drifting clouds, T'was such a marvelous waste of such a beautiful day...

On cue, he hears little Abe cry the name, Daddy?, taking the farmer's attention to the sky to the jubilant riff-raff running through his field. The child, no higher than a midget comes running through the wheat with his new invention. Little Abe has the doe eyes and the lips of his mother, but already has his own sturdy frame and the tradmark Almather cowlick his kin often sport in early youth. A wild-eyed expression comes the from youth with his shoddy, torn paper seagull. He is the most beautiful creature Dio has ever beheld, before or since.

"Child. What have we here?" he plays, gently dropping the scythe as the child leaps into his arms. Dio feels the need to cry as his own body smiles and it's eyes glimmer, corded arms wrapped lovingly around his child.

Abe, not one to have ever been able to speak clearly, simply shrugs and half tries. "Um... Mum... she show'd me... show'd me how to make a birdie. See?!?" Even though Dio yearns not to lose sight of the boy, (not for one second!), the eyes automatically avert to regard the tragic attempt at oragami. The bird is mishapen, it's head twisted and its wings unproportionate. It is little better than a scrunched up, discarded rubbish, but Diodesius lies, the sweet lies fathers tell their children. "'Tis fine work, m'boy. Such diligent craftsmanship showing ye hath the makings of an Artisan." As always, the best lies are always accented with a bit of truth, "I could be no prouder, my son," With a tender kiss to the forehead, he sets Abe down, and ruffles his cowlick.

"Go now, and show thy brother. And tell your mother I shall be harvesting until sundown," he says with a gentle smile, dispite his entire being wanting to tell Abe otherwise. Stay Abe. Do not leave. Let us have this moment, forever. Please...

But the moment has passed, as always he watches with deep longing the final memory of Abe, alive. Bumbling towards the house, singing a sweet nursery rhyme before the wheat swallows him forever. Mechanically, forced repeat events exactly the way they happened, he turns to the harvest to work. A ghost caught in a robot body.

Moments later, he hears thehoofbeats...


Lights Out. Blackness. Silence. And then...The Green, Merciful heavens. Spared once again from these wretched memories! Praise Mitra!

Almost on cue, he can feel the familiar tendrils of the Godess gently caress him, brushing at What-Would-Be-His-Back, its softness no more tangible than a cool and gentle mist. He begins to feel himself tense up, not in fear or awe as most mortal men would do when beholding A God, but with resentment. Anger even.

Floating in the vast chaotic amalgamate of the Emerald Dream, the nexus of all beings's mindspaces , can do strange things to ones perceptions. As thankful as he for the Godess's intervention from his usual Dreaming, he always seems to come away from this place with a little more distinction of Madness. This place lingers with you, like a black sticky tar upon your psyche. Mortals were never meant to stare so boldly or lucidly into the heart of Limbo.

Even now as he glances with What-Would-Be-Eyes, at What-Would-Be-Legs, he sees them ripple as a visual echo, a close approximation that his mind conjurs up what should be his Personna. In the past, it was so much easier to control, having had a firm sense of identy, but that has become faded as of late, his own self image becoming now as concrete as distant memory. A sure sign the he is slowly but surely losing himself.

Even now, the Godess-ether tries to meld with his own, Her Mist trying to intertwine with his. He struggles hard to maintain his Self, feeling Her now all around him in the void, his form now within Her bosom. Tempting as it is to give onto love-making within this astral plane, the recent events have made him feel cold and distant with his own Godess.

Feeling he is giving Her the cold What-Would-Be-His-Shoulder, Mitra's energy pulsates with sorrow. "DIIIiiiOOooo... WhAt bE wrOng, mY LOvE...?"

His spirit shudders. "My Lady. Why do ye feign ignorance? Ye should know perfectly well what hath beset upon my soul by the yester day's events alone!" He stares peircingly, looking for answers with his What-Would-Be-Eyes at her incomprehesible form, and finding no sign of understanding. She only offers him silence. "A Saint, holy and devout to thy cause, died a paupers death and arose an abomination to plague the city with horiffic intent. This is done by way of a demon ye hath supposedly cast out to the flames by thy own hand, now returned to defile everything of thy works. Ye hath me gallavanting with troupes that I know ye normally nary approve, yet ye give me no call to dispense thy wrath. Mine own church thinks me mad for insisting thy Chosen form of Woman, and the more I hear of thy workings the less I recognise the Godess I see before me right now."

Somehow, within this barely existing plane of surreality, Dio sits. "As the Ministers Son in mine village, I thought I hath all the answers and I Knoweth thee. But as I visit the bigger Mecca of higher established churches, the traditions I Knew Not and the written workings in Thy holy texts seem to indicate Thee as something else entirely. And I wish to Know so keenly, my Lord: Which is the true face of Mitra? The Benevolent God of Light and Rightousness who works distantly though His followers, or the Myterious Godess, fickle lover of men, whom speaks as plainly to me as the beating of mine own heart?"

There is a pregnant pause within the Ether, which could have been a breif moment just as easily as a small eternity before the Goddess form reared up taller than it's already infinitessimal size, before She speaks, slowly and deliberately, with a crypticness Diodesius has come to expect from his patron. "ThE bENevOLenT... aNd BriNgEr oF LigHT... iS tHe TRue fOrM... oF tHe MiTra YoU KNow..." Her form seems to colapse upon Herself quickly into a voilent vortex begining to pull everything into her center, "sO pROud Am I... So WonDErfUL iT is..." The void forming within the green psychoscape draws all within its gravity, inculding himself quickly to the core of Her Being, "TO cOUnt sUCh aN aMaZIng pOWerFuL EnTitY..." Now caught on the event horizon, he feels his very essense threaten to be torn asunder, the pain nigh unbearable. The screaming entophy all around him all but drowns out the booming voice of the Godess within his skull.

The final words he hears before he wakes up from this new nightmare?

"...As mY SoN..."

"BY GODESS!" He awakes with a sudden jerk, only to have hair pulled out by some plants that seemed to grow into his mane overnight. He also notices that his nightmare was so intense that he literally dug his fingers into the soil, and finds it a hard effort to pull them out. With dirt caked hands, he begins to rub at his temples and skull to soothe himelf.

"FUUUUUCK!", he manages to scream, before vomiting spasmatically...
------------------------------------------------------------

Early morning finds him swinging by the Smithy, and he find the quality of work to be superb. He goes so far to actually tip the man an extra 50gp just for his skill at crafting so quickly before he heads back to the Inn where the other slept. Sure enough, the pub is already awash in their activities and their speculations, each trying to figure out what to do next. He just nurses water, trying his best to calm his nerves from last night's dream.

When Artem comes in and offers his great gift to the Church to himself, he can't help but crack a wry smile. What Church would accept such an offering, he wonders, and since when did HE ever represt ANY religeous denomination? Still in good humor, he thanks Artem, and pours everyone a glass, stating, "As there is a Saying; Charity begins at home?"

As the others begin their discussions, he feels the intensity of his after-dreamstate madness ebb. People stop melting, and the mouths gibbering on the walls stop murmuring and disappear entirely. As the world begins to make sense again, he breathes deeply and blinks slowly. His calm relaxation is ruined slightly when his first sip of the alchohol blister his throat and toungue. "HEAVENS!" He shouts, grabbing a cup of water to stop the burn...

ARTEM: "I will simply follow Mazdak's lead, since you seem to trust him more than I."

While quaffing water, he finds Artem's bitter statement too much. ('course, the throat pain doesn't help) "TrUsT iS reSErvED To... *coff* To... ahem... Those who are of their word. Tell me, Artem. Hath ye made ammends to the family of the guard who's death is on thy hands?"

Of course, the question was rhetorical. It really is going to take a while for Dio to fully accept Artem as a member.

After considering the others points of view, Dio tosses out a very surprising suggestion:

"After hearing of the stories of the local plight, it seems a good amount of lives we're lost within last nights battle. This I found disconcerning. Where as the nobles paid good money to provide the defense against the surge of uprisers, skilled guardsmen and a good deal more commoners paid more dearly with their lives. There is a standstill in this revoltion, old monies being pitted against the flesh of the impoverished, and I for one can not stand idly by."

"I believe the best approach may actually more in line with what Mazdak proposes. We remove that which is the cause and fuels this God's forsaken war -"

He smiles, knowing now he's speaking Mazdak's and Artem's language. " - Wealth."

Background Where Goblin caste seems to be a matter of survival, those few tribes who live long enough in reletive peace have time to take up leisurely activities. Goblin society, when left to their own devices, show a keen shining toward invention and industry. Most innovative amongst the Rockbiter Tribe is resident tinkerer Gnarl. Born small, even for his species, he found himself on the losing end of many survival challenges. Whenever it came to contests of strength of finesse, he always lost out, so he developed a more strategic approach. Still, Gnarl's size lost him enough edge to be trained proper to join raiding parties and defense guard, but he showed a knack when it came to ore identifaction, metalurgy, and crafting of wonderous knick-nack. Though bored with mundane arms manufacturing, his devices were useful enough that he was able to get his own shop in a foundry, in order to focus on his more unique career. So when it was announced that he was the Chosen One, he was very much taken aback considering he thinks such a title should be given to someone stronger, faster , or at least with more survivability. Still, Chief Ryzz Ner'man IS bigger, stronger, and scarier, so who is he to argue the decision? And so, grumpily and somewhat unprepared, Gnarl finds himself on the Quest for the Magical-Somethingorother, to save the lands from Whatsit, for Whateverreason... *sigh*

[Still_Pond]

Character Sheet

Name: Guinessssss
Race: Ormu
Class: Psion - Telepath
Gender: Male
Curse: Curse of the Seer
Ancestral Weapon: Myriad Cloak

Background:
He was born large. Everyone thought he'd be a warrior or hunter or something strong, fierce and big. However, Guiness would rather lay on sun-warmed stones or hang down from low branches and startle wondering animals. He had no aspirations and no sense of social responsibility. He knew he'd never be a hunter for they were all just too intense. Fighting took too much energy and, besides, he didn't like getting hurt - he might mar his flawless black skin. No, he just wanted to be alone in his thoughts.

Others would sometimes come and try to spur him to action. He'd 'convince' them to just go away. He started to enjoy the little game, toying with people's expectations. He began frequenting gatherings observing behavior and seeing how much these people could be directed. He didn't let these social experiments get in the way of his rest however.

One night he was lounging on a favorite branch considering if he should eat this week or not when he heard a girl scream, sounded like an elf maybe. He tried to ignore it, but the screaming girl ran right toward his tree and had the audacity to fall beside it and continue to carry on. A hunting cat soon fell on her and thankfully silenced her. Guiness waited until the cat ate and left and then slithered down to look at something that had a very lovely aura. It was a cloak, and he knew right away that he LOVED it. He took great pride in his flawless black skin, and this cloak adorned him perfectly. He cleaned the elf blood off and wore it lovingly.

Then people started bothering him. He sent them away or just tried to avoid them, but they were persistent. Apparently he had impressed someone by mistake and now they wanted him to go adventuring, of all things. People began to gather around him, singing songs and burning things. He'd leave and they'd follow. The elders kept prodding him to go get their ancestral treasure, literally...with sticks! If he were to get any peace, he'd have to go get the accursed thing and bring it back. Then he learned that 'thing' was a cloak and he suddenly became slightly more interested.

Appearance:
Considered a plus sized Ormu, Guiness weighs in at an impressive two hundred and fifty pounds. He carries his bulk well, and is somehow able to slither his ten foot body up into the trees with the ease of his race. He is considered handsome, or at least he thinks he is. His scales are glossy black with some areas slightly blacker than others but you can only really see that in good light. His scales lie smooth and appear to be freshly oiled though that is just their natural luster (or is it?). His hair is carefully rolled into tidy dreadlocks. They cascade down his thick neck and shoulders like a mantle of snakes. His eyes are clear and bright and stand out like little pearls on his otherwise black face. For clothing he wears only a silvery wool cloak that seems Elven made. To keep it from getting all tangled up, he has secured it to his body with small silver chains. Not only does he like the way he looks in it, but the cloak keeps him warm and he likes few things more than being warm and comfortable.

He is often alone, off removed from others, usually eating, sleeping, or bathing. He keeps himself very clean, for he's rather proud of his shiny black scales and he likes to keep them looking nice. When he's being sociable he is quite present in the conversation. People seem to think he's a good listener, and he is in fact. He is a scholar of behavior and finds other people's mannerisms and conversations interesting, when he has energy for such things.

Personality:
Lazy, manipulative, wants to be left alone. Rather selfish but will work with others if it means he gets what he wants or is easier than not working with them. Can be rather charming if the mood strikes him, however. Sometimes he's even sincerer even though it's nowhere near as much fun. He is slow to anger, preferring to just go away rather than be with someone who is annoying.

RP Sample:
Apparently there were others who were seeking their own ancestral relics. Joy. Well, at least they seem to know where to go so he could relax and follow them. An interesting smell wafts in. Oh, what'sss thisss? It sssmells deliciousss! The aura...enchanting. I want to sssnuggle up and cuddle it, sssqueezsse it, love it, hug and consssstrict it until it just *pops* with sssublime flavor.

Guiness slithers over to the pooka. He regards the adorable little creature with black eyes that betray nothing behind them. In a languid almost seductive voice he says, "Greetingssss, little one. How delightful to make your aquentencssse." Not really a lie, for he was delighted, now if only he had a little tarragon. He would take time with this one, befriend it perhaps. Just being close to it's scent made everything taste better.

[sammichweasel]

Name: Garr

Race: Gnoll

Class: Ranger (Natural Weapon Style)

Gender: Male (I've studied hyenas enough to be freakin' scared of the ladies)

Curse: Curse O' the Wild (okay, so I'm focused in build-wise... forgive me, for I love gnolls.)

Ancestral Weapon: He has been sent to find the Pooka Book. Legend says that this book contains a thousand and one recipes for proper preparation of Pooka, and they all want Garr to have it in hand. It is suspected that he may be the gnoll of legend, known only as the Clawed Maker (obviously a chef of some sort with a name like that).

Background: Garr grew up as any other gnoll, grunting and gibbering and eating things that a reasonable person has no place eating. He's not the brightest, even in comparison to other gnolls, abe has always spent most of his time thinking about what to eat next.

Then he discovered food preperation. Not only did this make food taste better, but it made it taste BETTER! He learned his first recipe from a wandering goblin artificer who had invented a specialized spatula that was also a steam-powered crossbow, and his lifelong (so har) passion was established.

Garr has become famous within a three tribe radius, with all the local gnolls wanting to come to HIS village for Noms-Having (truly, the greatest of gnoll holidays). The majority of his time is spent seeking rare ingredients (and eating things). Ironically, he himself does not actually eat cooked meat, preferring rrrraw and wrrrriggling.

Appearance: Garr is straight up mangy. His fur is patchwork, his skin is a bit dry, and dandruf tends to be a problem. His jaw is slightly larger than average for a gnoll, his face a little more actually hyena-like, and his eyes are the very definition of beady. He only wears clothing when someone reminds him that other races often care about things like that.

He stands a gaunt 7'2", weighing in at a mere 230 lbs, but not for want of food. He's just too busy to pack on the normal weight for his height. He hunches a fair amount, lending some to associate him with the typical image of the mythological "wolf-man", despite his obviously hyenid jaw structure. Really, he's kind of terrifying, and his habit of tasting anything new to him (including people) doesn't really... help. At all.

Personality: Usually a bit scatterbrained, but when hunting or cooking, singularly focused. He doesn't understand 'emotions' and tends to step on toes, but honestly, once you taste his cocoa-crusted lamb flank with espresso drizzle, his gruff statements of disinterest roll off the back.

He has a lot of trouble with non-gnolls, and not just because he has to reconfigure his dishes to match non-predator palates. Frankly, they all look delicious in their own way, so it's hard for him to refrain from drooling. He usually doesn't, actually (refrain, I mean). Pooka are especially difficult for him, with those weird snaky-fellows coming in a close second because he's curious whether they'd taste like snake or elf, or something else entirely!

His ideal afternoon involves hunting and slaying a new type of protein he hasn't prepared before, then gathering appropriate herbs to complement it. He would then cook said items, get into a fight with someone that said they didn't like it, and have his chieftain say it was his best work yet.

RP Sample: Reeds rustled, parting for the patchwork fur of the silent hunter. He would have cursed his inattention to his environment, but instinct guided him - without knowing, he knew the noise was nothing out of the ordinary. He stared past his target, watching the water of the still pond ripple with each of the scaled thing's heavy, measured steps. It showed no fear, no thought of potential reprisal entering its head. When you're that big, nothing thinks about attacking you.
Lucky for Garr, he didn't think much.

The night breezes chilled his visible skin, leaving him alternately freezing and cozy. His claws flexed in the muck, letting that ancient need to feed fester, waiting for the right time to spring. His target's arched, frilled back cast scintillating shadows across the mirrored water. A path, step by step, formed in the most basic part of his brain, highlighting itself almost literally in his vision. The massive lizard paused for an instant before taking its next step, a bit more forceful than the rest, and something about the rings spoke of violence, a beginning to motion and an ending of life.

The gnoll's form was a blur across the waters, practically carrying itself as his conscious mind danced across the lightning firing in his brain, letting instinct do the work. The lizard knew immediately that something was coming, but the suprise of both the nature of the assault and its sheer intensity left it no time to react. Sharpened, jagged claws tore into scaled hide, shaking loose a shower of glittering leaves as Garr tore his way up its back. Its barbed tail lashed upwards, but the angles were wrong; only the gnoll's lithe form could do any real damage here. His visceral attack made its meticulous, purposeful way towards its viscera. Honks of anger and dismay echoed across the shallow swamps, but the lizard knew as well as the savage warrior where this would end.

Not even a full minute later it was over. The beast's face beneath the water as it settled spoke to the innevitable outcome. Its massive carcass shook, jerking as Garr tore into the beast. He ignored almost everything, shoving organmeat out of the way as he attacked his new task with the same single-minded approach as his daring assault. He finally found his prize, prying out the thing's massive liver.

*****

Garr stood at the firing stove, a device (strangely) of his own design. Its fluted piping out the back and heavy goblin-forged iron plates glowed red as he wiped down his Elvenwood cutting board. He precisely sliced the massive liver, mouth watering (okay, openly drooling, which really isn't all that different from most times you look at Garr). Slabs of muddy-red meat slide onto the plates, sizzling with the intense heat. Little gnollings dance around, picking at Garr's already patchy fur, nipping and whining. A quick backhand lets them know that it will be ready when its ready.

Finally, after just a quick sear to seal in the bloody goodness, Garr lets out a gibbering cackle, announcing the meal. Then, his job finished, the gnoll returns to his abode (a polite name for his barely formed burrow), to contemplate the question he had been considering before being tasked with dinner - why DO Pooka have those weird ears? No, really, what are they? Some kind of rabbit? Oh, oh - they are? Oooooh, okay, that makes more sense. Wait, but... no, no, that does.

[DeepFriedWyzard]

Name: Skög Orkbiter
Race: Pooka
Class: Magus
Gender: Though it is hard to tell, male
Curse: Curse of the Mirror
Ancestral Weapon: Sylph's Feather

Appearance:
Skog is a terrifying Ogre, nearly ten feet high (well above that if he stood up straight), with musty green skin, ratty hair, and boary tusks.

Like so.

Upon the affliction of his curse however, he will be a tad more... adorable. Something like a bunny walking upright, trying to be imposing with his magic sword but awwww he's just so cute can I pet him!?

A little like this, but with white fur and icy blue eyes.

Personality:
As an Ogre, Skog is surprisingly clever, able to plan ahead and organize his daily routine beyond "Smash rocks, eat stuff." As a person, however, Skog is oafish, brash, ill tempered, most of the things you would expect an Ogre to be. He is not a braindead thug though. Unless he needs to be, which can make life easier sometimes.

Background:
From an early age, Skog knew there was something different about him. He could never figure out what it was. He was as strong as any other Ogre. He got plenty of Ogre women. He was a respected warrior. Then one day it hit him: the fact he was thinking about this so much was the answer itself. He was intelligent! Of course, he was no scholar, but he had a foresight that no other Ogre in his tribe possessed. He studied the others as they would fight, and learned from the mistakes of his own fights. Such things seem simple to a human mind, but Ogres are not known to have thoughts more advanced than "Frank smash!"

Skog quietly brooded upon the idea of becoming the new warchief. He had killed more orcs than any other Ogre, even earning the name Orkbiter for it. He would not only get first pickings of every hogroast, but he would get to keep the current warchief's wife, the sexiest troll one could possibly imagine.

One day, Skog was out hunting for bacon, as well as training himself by smashing down trees. If he could smash a tree, surely he could smash any Ogre to get in his way. Suddenly, his attention was grabbed by the biggest hog Skogg had ever seen. It was at least half his height at the shoulder, and that meant a lot of bacon for dinner. So he chased the beast down, but it was more endurant than any hog he had ever encountered as well. For miles he sprinted after the beast of feast, now it was a matter of principle to destroy this pig and eat the whole thing himself.

Eventually, Skog found himself no longer in the rocky hills he called home, and in the magical forests of fey and elves and other such silly creatures. It was here that he found himself in a situation he could never have forseen.

What a horrible night to have a curse... And he never even got to eat that giant hog.

[Caput]

Name: Vell of Terelae
Race: Satyr (Fawn)
Class: Barbarian (Armoured Hulk)
Gender: Pink (Don't tell her that. She'll vomit rainbows on you.)
Curse: Ages (Alternate)
Ancestral Weapon: Ring of the Magi

Background: Vell was once fairly dull and let life carry her wherever it wanted. People told her to get hitched and have kids, so she assumed that was what was going to happen.
One day some drunk guy in a bar forgot the meaning of the word no and everything changed. Her fellow drinkers were greatly amused by the sight of an unassuming girl beating the snot out of a man twice her size, so there was much cheering and dangerous quantities of free booze.
That was the first time she tasted heroism and she's been hooked ever since. She's carved out a reputation as a bad-ass and a fun person to be around. The kind of person who makes life take the lemons back, but not the kind who uses them to burn your house down.
When her small town of Terelae was attacked by bandersnatches a year or so back she leapt to its defence, relishing the change to kick some ass and earn some hero-worship. Then everything went horribly wrong. The enemy came in overwhelming numbers and murdered about a 6th of the population in creatively horrible ways. That day, she heard the voices of the dead demanding retribution and truly raged for the first time.
Now she's seen as a kind of folk hero, chosen by the dead to prevent such a disaster happening again.

Appearance: Before being cursed, Vell is a nice looking but not beautiful fawn with freckles, reddish-brown fur and hair, pointy little nose and the build of a runner. She prefers fairly nondescript clothing, usually a pair of knee-length shorts and a light shirt of some kind. Her most distinguishing feature has to be her strong green eyes.
After the curse, poor Vell is positively adorable. She resembles nothing more than a cuddly toy version of her former self with her unchanged eyes peering helplessly out of her squashable face. Her skin doesn't exactly have fluff on it, but it's very clearly pretend. She has a warm, glowy little heart sewn onto her chest.
She mostly hides her shame under her scary black platemail, which is all the more impressive when she's carrying her heavy mace and surrounded by a vortex of tormented souls.

Personality: Vell mostly wants to have fun, kick ass, get a giant pile of gold, be remembered forever in song, retire in her home town and have her pick of best fawn guys. Once she's cursed, she wants more than anything to get rid of the damn curse and be a proper person again. Her tough image is so important to her that the thought of being seen in that state sickens her. She also misses beer.
She used to be unshakably confident in her abilities, but becoming cute and soft and damaged that confidence, causing her to overcompensate.
Unlike most barbarians, she's not all that barbaric. She's not an irritable person and she's smarter than average. She's hardly the most sensible or socially adept person one could hope to meet, but nobody's perfect.
She loves a fight, but only the kind where both parties walk away at the end. If they shake hands too, so much the better. In a lethal fight, she'd much rather disarm or capture than kill.
When she rages, she's not so much going berserk as riding the anger of the spirits that haunt her. She's not at all likely to show any mercy or restraint when that happens.
She's terrified of bandersnatches. Like, really really terrified.
She's very open minded about other races. To her, new kinds of people means new dances, new food and drink and maybe even new things to screw with. Fine, they don't always get on, but who does? She respects good warriors anyway.