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Old Dec 12th, 2017, 12:06 AM
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Saviors of Sandpoint

All Saviors of Sandpoint can be found here, in all their glory. Only post characters here once they are privately approved; post as much as you feel is necessary to show.
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Old Dec 12th, 2017, 08:46 PM
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Last edited by Sassafrass; Feb 3rd, 2018 at 07:40 PM.
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Old Dec 13th, 2017, 03:24 AM
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Igna ‘Rapid’ Pigro
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Name: Igna ‘Rapid’ Pigro
Race: Human (Varisian)
Class: Unchained Rogue (Hidden Blade)
Trait: Family Ties
Region: Nirmathas/Varisia
Story Feat: Family Ties
Deadly Sin: Lust/Sloth

Description: Long rich ginger hair over an undercut, utilizing wax to give the sideswept bangs a thick look. The sharp jaw and chin sport day-old stubbles framing thin lips and slightly yellow teeth. The nose is sharp and act as a divider to a series of freckles over the cheeks and two hazel eyes.

Igna wears dark leather clothes with loose black linen flowing over the tight-fitting leather. Buttons and rivets are wrapped in dark cloth too. Beside his swaggering teenage-arrogance, Igna wears no obvious weapons.

Background:Igna are one of Jubrayl Vhiski’s boys. He arrived in Sandpoint in his early teens and been hanging around with the Sczarni ever since. He mostly act as an errand boy and have not been part of any crime that resulted in anything but a raised finger from Sheriff Hemlock.

Igna rarely speaks of the time before Sandpoint, but questioned about his parents and heritage, he answers bluntly that both his parents are dead and that he hailed from Nirmathas, originally.
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Old Dec 13th, 2017, 07:38 PM
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Venka Behrmenn
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Name: Venka Behrmenn
Race: Human (Varisian)
Class: Fighter (Lore Warden)
Traits: Outlander(Exile), Tactician, Rich Parents, Headstrong(Drawback)
Story Feat: Nemesis
Deadly Sin: Wrath
Home: Nybor

Height: 5'10"
Weight: 140 lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Green

Description: Tall for a woman, Venka can be described as neither bulky nor frail. Years of training, traveling, and fighting have left her with lean, yet well-defined muscles. Shoulder-length black hair frames her oval face, lightly-freckled olive skin showing signs of light weathering. Green, sparkling eyes and a sincere smile come together to create a spirited visage.

Her gear shows signs of heavy use. Worn leather boots tell of many miles traveled. Her dark green cloak is frayed and dirtied, while her leather armor is covered in scuffs and nicks. A long pole-arm is gripped firmly in hand, tipped with a curved blade and a wicked-looking hook.
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Old Dec 14th, 2017, 09:17 PM
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Brooding Barbarian
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Choni Kokip
Shoanti: Shundar-Quah (The Spire Clan)
Fated Champion Skald from Varisia
Giant Slayer
Quick to anger, slow to forgive

Tall and lean, there is a fluid grace with which Choni moves, both in battle and in the casual moments of her day to day. Her long white-blonde hair is most often pulled back from her face and held in a scrimshaw clip, allowing it to tumble nearly mid back freely, but not interfere with vision or movement. Grey eyes and light skin serve to accent the ash-coloured tattoos marking her face in a symmetrical pattern of angular lines. There is a shadow to her expression which leaves one with the sense that there is a heavy weight on the young woman's shoulders. Slow to smile and quick to furrow her brows, Choni is both serious and intense in appearance as much as conversation.

Her gear and clothing have seen much wear, but are all tended to with utmost care. Much like her physical appearance, her garb tends toward neutral colours, mostly within shades of grey and black. There is little in the way of femininity or frippery in any of her belongings, and her choice of apparel only serves to heighten her pale visage and intense focus.

Character Background:
Choni is the youngest surviving member of her direct family line of the Shundar-Quah, after Giants had managed to attack and almost completely decimate the small village. It was after this attack that Choni found her true voice. While the power of the Skald had been evident from the onset of puberty, it was the crisis and resultant decision of the surviving family group to hunt down the Giants, that she found the path through which her powers were able to fully manifest. She has spent the last two years wandering with her family and carrying out their vow to eradicate the Giants wherever they may spread. It was in the last few months that she became aware that her path was to diverge from that of her family's.

It was not so much a diverging of paths so much as locations, as while her kin still hunted the Giants to the North, it was the whispers, rumours and tales spread at the taverns and the trade routes which lead her toward Sandpoint. Choni knew in time that she would eventually be able to truly read the signs in the wind, the leaves and the patterns of nature, but for now the instinct which awoke to the knowledge that attacks were happening elsewhere, though where not on her kin's direct point of travel, lead her on. She is still close with her family and left with their blessings, though her elder brother was vocal in his disapproval of her leaving and not remaining to continue their revenge.

Choni is most often quiet and introspective, however with a drink in her hand she often becomes the wild life of the tavern or inn, daring to challenge others to both feats of strength or challenges of physical prowess and dexterity. It is in these times that the shroud of sorrow which remains over her lifts to reveal the carefree woman she perhaps would have been had not death come to her homestead. Choni also seems to lack empathy from time to time, with blunt and sometimes rude remarks made, however it is not something she intends or purposes to do, but relates to her retreating from the threat that emotions seem to bring to the painful memories she has done her best to bury.

Last edited by Kapera; Apr 23rd, 2018 at 07:22 PM.
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Old Feb 9th, 2018, 02:20 PM
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Doyle Costello

Doyle Costello
A rose arose, I saw it
It defied the frozen ground
The prophecy was right
her hand was firm, but gentle
The rose it bloomed with vigor
while winter reigned supreme
Oh praise thy, Milani, let none oppress the weak

My song are bound for roses
in delight for all above
Elysium looks bright tonight
Milani, shine your light
In you we see the path
through snow and tyranny
Oh praise thy, Milani, let none oppress the weak

Rose, so fine and brittle
with pleasure air and sight
the light it will emit
and cross the dark around
In truth we need the beacon
to cut off domination of the vile
Oh praise thy, Milani, let none oppress the weak

The song was part of his ritual. Planting a rose seed for the rebellious hearts, for those who stood against tyranny and oppression, was another. Until recently, tending the blooming rose yard and the garden surrounding it was what kept most of his days in check.

The humble little limestone temple had been his home since a group of Milani-blessed justicars had cut his bonds, literally, to his imprisonment in the Fogscar mountains and his jailer - a lumbering half-giant with torture, hard labor and aggression as his only words. In this temple, he had learned mostly everything he knew, including the ability to read, write, cook, sew, argue and have obtained a general understanding of the world and the constant turmoil it was in. He had been introduced to the gods of Golarion in general and more specifically, the way of Milani and her work to demolish and shatter all tyranny. Needless to say, he owed the goddess a lot and he gladly gave it.

The arch-cleric of the temple had denied him his wish, to step into the order of the monks and stay. He had demanded of the young man to administer the work of Milani in the world before he took his oath and when Doyle had shown reluctance (rebelling lay in many hearts following Milani) in following the given way, Arch-cleric Sinon Lynn had dispelled him from the temple.

At the age of twenty-two, Doyle Costello had set out from the temple and first braced himself against the busy life of Magnimar and found it too stressing and then decided that he would join a group of merchants to witness the insertion of faith in Sandpoint. Granted, it was not his faith, but Doyle had no objections versus other deities, unless they accepted or even promoted slavery. That was an entirely different matter. A particularly evil matter, as a matter of fact.

Liberated by the Everbloom

There was three others that came from the same rural area East of the Fogscar Mountains. An elderly, frail man only known as Mule. That was what Kofir, the heartless half-giant, had named him. Mule died a few months after the liberation and is buried on the temple grounds. Oggels, a spry young man who had been blinded by Kofir and had been pulled from his pen, whenever the gruesome jailer felt lonely and wanted a song. The silken voice was like a foamy shower under a starry night and he had been a blessing to the Shelyn Voices choir of Magnimar. Doyle had visited him when he first had left the temple and found that the young man had been blessed with a wife and a little baby daughter. The last survivor had been Jania, who had experienced the worst torture from Kofir. Every night, Jania was stripped naked and sexually abused by the looming brute. As they returned to the temple, she had been five months pregnant with the bastard son of Kofir. Jania had stubbornly chosen to refuse the concoctions of anti-pregnancy that she had been offered by the medics and healers and born Libero on a stormy winter night. The first year with Jania and Libero was the closest thing Doyle have ever felt to family, as the strong little creature saw in him, the father that he had not. Jania committed suicide and left only the briefest of notes that she could not bear to live with the constant reminder of the tyrant and his sexual torture. Should have opted for the damn concoctions! Libero was sent off to an orphanage in Magnimar.

Friends and lost ones

Besides the brief time span together with Mule, Oggels, Jania and little Libero, there was mostly only the other servants of the temple that had a place in Doyle's mind and heart. Arch-cleric Sinon Lynn was a constant guide in the faith of Milani and a mentor in the life in general. Eridipus Choo, the supervisor of the kitchen, kept a steady leash and a protective hand over Doyle, regardless of his odd manners and quirks around food. Nepper Tandarah was a gorgeous looking gardener who acted as overseer of the rose garden and both trained with Doyle in his faith, his sense of order and discipline and his skills with weapons. There was none of the clerics, monks or justicars attached to the temple who disliked Doyle. He gave them no reason.

Sverrick Sevenstring, the dual-atheistic monk and storyteller of both Milani and Irori, is a friend and often visits the temple to spend hours of talking, wandering and sparring with Doyle. He is a traveler and explorer by heart and much of what Doyle knows about the world, is through the tales of Sverrick.

~ @ ~

Under heavy plating, waxed leather and large iron ring barding, Doyle is a thick and strong bundle of muscles and brown curly hair. His features hints his heritage among the Fogscar mountain roots, where few families had bred generations after generations. A broad, slightly left-curving nose makes for a rather impressive feature in an otherwise flat face. The cheekbones are high rising under slightly oval hickory brown eyes. There's a little black mole over his left side of the broad lips and his thick neck sports a crimson rose tattoo. Both breastplate and shield carry the same rose of Milani over shining steel and iron power.

Three Goals
Faithful servant of the Everbloom: the arch-cleric told Doyle to get a grip on life before he could become a monk of the rose and the thought have taken possession with the young man to return and become a monk in the temple of Milani.

A tale of a far-away place: A dual-atheistic monk that often frequented the temple where Doyle was raised, often told of the magnificent legend city of Xin-Shalast. The tales captivated the young man and he have wanted to find the hidden road to the place ever since.

Death is inevitable: Doyle is ready to die for the faith that saved him from captivity. He nurses a dream that he will go down grand and return in the service of Milani, as a martyr.

Three Motivations
The Rose: The justicars of Milani have taught him everything he know and he base everything that is right, just and good from those that follow her beliefs.

Moral: Doyle has been schooled to work actively against oppressive regimes and dominance.

Friendship: The plea for stepping into the order of the Everbloom, was carried on a wish for being affiliated with like-minded. To have friends. Expelled in search for experience, this is the exact opposite. Solitude.

FlawOrthorexia. Maybe it has always been like this or maybe it started when Doyle was a captive and under heavy influence of malnutrition, but the bottom line is that the Milani prospect is obsessed with eating for the benefit of his body and mind. Make sure the water for the tea have reached full boil before applying it, weed out sugar, make sure that vegetables and fruit is eaten in equally great portions as the meat and water down the ale to lessen the effects of the alcohol. These are just examples of the routines and rules Doyle apply whenever he handles daily food consumptions.

Name: Doyle Costello
Race: Human
Class: Paladin (Knight Disciple)
Deadly Sin: Pride
Story feat: Liberator
Campaign Trait: Giant Slayer



Last edited by Norse; Jul 18th, 2018 at 12:45 AM.
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Old Feb 9th, 2018, 05:26 PM
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Name: Edledhron Guldaer
Race: Elf
Class: Kensai (Magus)
Campaign Trait: Outlander (Lore Seeker)
Story Feat: Dead Inside
Deadly Sin(s): Pride and Envy

Description: Tall and willowy in human lands, Edledhron is often considered a fairly attractive man. For his kindred though, he's kind of average. He stands two inches past six feet and weighs 126 lbs.nine stone. His long, chocolate colored hair shimmers in the light, though he often wears it bound messily behind his head. His visage is sharp and sleek, from his pointed ears and defined cheekbones to his jaw. His tilted, viridian eyes are usually impassive, though they've been known to shine with curiosity at times. His attire is simple, almost threadbare in places. He favors clothes of pine green and tanned leather, but the only piece that shows great care are his buckskin boots. He doesn't carry too much, but his pack isn't empty and he wears a blade as if it were a part of him.

His personality isn't something that shows easily. He keeps quiet, but makes sure that he is polite and decent - someone who is too quiet often draws attention. He doesn't make friends easily, and refrains from talking about himself. The only times when he shows himself is when he's in ingrained in something else. Which, for him, usually refers to his pursuit of knowledge or his swordplay.

Quick Background: Edledrhon is the son of an instructor of the Erages Academy in the city of Erages in Kyonin. Since Erages is primary a half-elven city and even has some humans living there, he isn't quite as closed minded as some of his kind. He had a limited amount of arcane training from his parents, and began his training with the sword in the Backlash Training Grounds. He is somewhat aloof, but wanted to see outside of the city. He fell in with smugglers for a while, but he still enjoyed learning everything he could. As he watched his friends age, he fell into a melancholy and left his home to become a Forlorn wanderer. But he had difficulty leaving everything he knew behind, so he left for Varisia in hopes of finding something he could study.

1) He's looking to make a significant discovery about the ancient Thassilonian. Beyond that, he has a deep desire to learn.
2) If he can make a discovery big enough, he plans to either return home and share his findings with the Erages Academy or found his own similar academy.
3) As a player, I plan to have him be curt and hold people at arms length a bit. Id like to see him change and value people as they are, rather than fear watching them wither.

1) His greatest purpose is his quest for knowledge. It drives him forward and staves of the depression that he often feels.
2) Knowledge aside, he has great pride in his martial prowess. With blade in hand, he strives to master the art.
3) He would deny this, but he is somewhat of a thrill seeker. That's what got him involved with the smugglers back home, and what sends him into dangerous research areas.

Flaw: His melancholy, what made him Forlorn, is another major contributor to his actions. He is polite and courteous, but he's slow to trust and is very reluctant to speak deeply of himself. He feels that he is cursed to watch people he might love wither and die, and because of that, he tries to deny love altogether.

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Old Feb 9th, 2018, 05:48 PM
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Feremi the Taldan Cleric(Ecclesitheurge) of Nethys, from Kaer Maga; an low-ranking acolyte of the Arcanist's Circle. Greed is his downfall. If he didn't take much care to maintain neutrality, it would be Pride. He desires all the power of magic, more and more and more.
Traits: Scholar of the Ancients, Underlying Principles

Physical Description
Well-groomed is the first word that often enters a person mind when they behold Feremi. His dark brown hair is perfectly trimmed, short and stylish. His face is angular and clean shaven, with only the barest of sideburns. Piercing green eyes sit above a pointed nose and thin lips; themselves seemingly forever stuck in a slight smirk. A smell of old books seems to follow him where ever he goes.

An answer to a question posed to a master priest
He wasn't overly tall, but he stood over the others. At least he tried to. It is not particularly easy to be above your fellow acolytes when you barely know more than they do. Feremi had far more ambition than personable traits, which is not a failing in and of itself, but one could propose that it is a failure in the long run. The ability to acquire friends and allies is an invaluable one in our world. He was bright enough to understand that particular point, though I would say he took far too long to accept that truth, and at my council took courses in the fine art of not being a royal ass. You look at me aghast. Child... I am old and not one to worry overly much at the use of cruder language.

Feremi came to us at the young age of eight and his ambition was clear even then. His mother seemed quite relieved when I accepted him into our order. Thankful even. The poor woman appeared as though she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in the entire time the young man had graced her with his presence. Feremi wasn't the first child of his nature that we had taken and he certainly won't be the last. We put him to work immediately, doling out rewards of knowledge in exchange for drudgery and labour. An attempt at teaching humility that never quite worked I'm sad to say. That said, he was a diligent student, taking to theory and the understanding of magical crafting alongside religious study of our All-Seeing Eye, Nethys himself with unrestrained zeal. When we allowed him access to more restricted parts of our libraries, it didn't take him long to find the, admittedly sparse, history of the Thassilonian Runelords. The boy became obsessive. There are many powerful spellcasters in the history of Golarion, but these particular zealots and, I daresay, villains would not be torn from his mind. A more righteous institution would have dissuaded the young man from this particular area of study. We are not such an institution. All subjects have lessons to teach. The knowledge is valuable. Often it is powerful in the correct circumstance. Along such a line of inquiry, Feremi's thinking is no different than mine own. Where we differ is on what is appropriate to use.

I did not condone his research, nor his insistent requests to do fieldwork as it were. Neither did I deny them. Perhaps, in retrospect, I should have done more to steer him elsewhere. It is not our way though. Neutrality in all things. We care not who sits upon the throne, just that we be allowed to continue our work, our research, and our creation.

Goals, Motivations, and Flaws
Long term:Godhood. How better for one's name to echo through eternity?
Long/Short term: Discover and plunder the knowledge and magical power of the Runelords of ancient Thassilon.
Short term: Build a network of allies to facilitate his other goals.

Primary: Feremi is driven by a need to acquire more magical power and knowledge. Nethys is not just his god, he is Feremi's hero. A human who ascended to godhood.
Secondary: Need for success. While the priest isn't afraid to fail, it leaves a very bad taste in his mouth. Feremi is always looking for an edge.
Tertiary: Wealth. Without wealth, you are no better than a dirt farmer. Dirt farmers don't become gods. Dirt farmers die and are forgotten.
Underlying Motivation: To be remembered until the end of time; preferably for godlike power and impartiality.

Feremi is arrogant. There is no getting around it. Even he can acknowledge that he sees himself above the rabble. His is a faith of neutrality though, and he desperately tries to maintain an even-handed approach to life; going so far as to take actual lessons in diplomacy, negotiation, and empathy. People deserve to live their lives, but he also deserves to live his; and it would not be a stretch to consider the accumulation of knowledge and magical power in his person is often a more pressing concern than petty politics and dramas. Those people clearly cannot be trusted with any magical power. It would be so much easier to simply allow Feremi to handle it himself. He knows it drives other people to angry extremes when he points this out. He tries, he really does, to maintain even-handedness. That string of greed for knowledge and magical might weaves its way through his being though. Would it really be so bad if the scales were weighted towards his benefit? For the greater good?
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