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Pathfinder: Giantslayer AP

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If you want in, please take the spot. I like see familiar faces but I like newer ones even more for pbp. It helps get to know the forum members more on here.


Rich Parents.....hmmm I'm not exactly sure on that one. It seems ok but it does let the 1st level PC acquire quite a bit of gear. Let me think on that one.

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Rich parents is nice for the gear, but after the first level or two, it doesn't provide that much advantage.  I prefer to take traits that give advantage always.


If you want extra money and an advantage:


Lair Snake: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Appraise checks, and your starting wealth increases by 200 gp.


Lesser Noble: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Diplomacy and Knowledge (nobility) checks. In addition, your starting money is increased by 100 gp— your “birthright,†such as it is.


Child of Infamy: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Perform (act) skill checks, and the skill is always considered a class skill for you. Furthermore, you begin play with an additional 300 gp.


Brigand: You begin with an extra 100 gp in equipment. You also gain a +1 trait bonus on Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, and Sense Motive checks when dealing with brigands, thieves, bandits, and their ilk.


Reclaiming your Roots: You begin with a piece of jewelry worth 350 gp, or any masterwork weapon or armor worth not more than 350 gp, or a wand containing any 1st-level spell (CL 1st) with 20 charges remaining. If you ever lose this item, you suffer a –1 penalty on Will saves for 1 year.


Destined for Greatness: You start with a kit worth no more than 300 gp, and the expendable contents of the kit are automatically restored to their original capacity at no cost to you whenever you enter a settlement with a population of at least 2,500.


Some of these are Campaign traits from other AP, so you might want to check with Haldir before getting your hear set upon them.

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Really haven't made allot of Pf characters (oddly more goblin PCs) & I don't think I've ever given them RP as a trait. I tend to give them more of the combat oriented ones or ones that give a odd spell power.


Ok on that note feel free to take the RP trait if you want.

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Okay I finally finished her. I kept toying with what I wanted to do and finally went ahead with a straight ranger no archetypes. Her focus is using her longbow. I also wrote up her backstory which added a bit of delay though it is sparse, but hopefully workable.





Female half-elf (Spireborn) ranger 1
CG Medium humanoid (elf, human)
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; Perception +8
AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12 (+2 armor, +2 Dex)
hp 11 (1d10+1)
Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +3; +2 vs. enchantments, +1 trait bonus vs. enchantment
Immune sleep
Speed 30 ft.
Melee Battleaxe +2 (1d8+1/×3) or
   Hopeknife +3 (1d4+1/19-20)
Ranged longbow +4 (1d8/×3)
Special Attacks favored enemy (orc +2)
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration +2)
   1/day—comprehend languages, detect secret doors, erase, read magic
Str 13, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 13
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats Weapon Focus (longbow)
Traits mordant heritage, trunau native
Skills Diplomacy +2, Handle Animal +5, Knowledge (geography) +6, Knowledge (nature) +6, Perception +8, Perform (wind instruments) +2, Stealth +6, Survival +6, Swim +2, Use Magic Device +2; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception
Languages Azlanti, Common, Elven, Orc
SQ elf blood, mordant envoy, track +1, wild empathy +2
Other Gear leather armor, arrows (40), battleaxe, hopeknife, longbow, backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, mess kit, trail rations (5), waterskin, 45 gp, 9 sp
Special Abilities
Elf Blood Half-elves count as both elves and humans for any effect related to race.
Elven Immunities - Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Favored Enemy (Orc +2) (Ex) +2 to rolls vs. Favored Enemy (Orc) foes.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Mordant Envoy Spireborn add +1 to the caster level of any transmutation spells they cast. Spireborn with a Charisma score of 11 or higher also gain the following spell-like abilities: 1/day—comprehend languages, detect secret doors, erase, read magic. The caster
Mordant Heritage You gain a +1 trait bonus on Swim checks and a +1 trait bonus on saving throws against enchantment effects.
Track +1 Add the listed bonus to survival checks made to track.
Wild Empathy +2 (Ex) Improve the attitude of an animal, as if using Diplomacy.
Branwyn grew up in a for more distant area from Trunau. Her father was one of the elves from the Mordant spire and she herself was raised there. One day she flet a restlessness inside her and it led to a fierce argument with her father. He insisted she should remain upon the spire and she wished to leave to see the world beyond.
Since he forbade her leaving she quietly gathered her belonging and slipped away in the night. Though she was young when she left she made her way slowly to Trunau. Once there she started showing her skill with the bow and some idea of scouting out the enemy of the town.
She very rarely speaks on her own family though and still has no idea who her mother is. It is a secret her father has always kept to himself.

Just so I know at level 4 are animal companions allowed or not?
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Ok so far we have 3 confirmed characters. These 3 players/characters are in the game. Still have a spot open for 1 (possibly 2) more.


Again, weather is really nice here right now (close to 70 today) & I'm trying to do all my outdoor Con stuff. Stripped in the backyard today..... :blink:  :blink:  :blink:  ^_^ .


After tonight I've got till Saturday off, so I'm gonna use the time for prep. I will be on here as well.

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Character Story for Beorht:


Lord Viktor and Lady Natalya Ashmoore maintained a small stone manor north of Castle Firrine, in Lastwall.

Lord Ashmoore was a middle noble, ex-adventurer, with some notoriety as a Giant Hunter.  Lady Ashmoore was 10 years younger than him, fiercely in love with her brave husband.  They had been trying to produce an heir for about a year when the unimaginable happened: Lord Ashmoore was leading a raid into Belkzen when his party was outmatched.  Swarms of Orcs and their leaders pushed across the border.  Ashmoore retreated to his home where he made his final stand in defense of his wife.  He was slain by a fair-complexioned half-orc lieutenant named Blarg.  This savage ravaged Lady Ashmoore, and once finished prepared to take her as a slave when she fought back with a dagger hidden under her mattress.  She bought herself enough time for a reinforcing party to arrive and slay the remaining orcs.  In shock, full of grief and shame, Lady Ashmoore never told anyone that this half-orc had despoiled her.

    As fate would have it, she became pregnant and couldn't know if the father was her lord or attacker.  When her son was born, he seemed human, so she named him Viken Ashmoore.  At the age of five, he erupted larger lower canines, his skin showed a slight grayish hue in full sunlight, and his eyes took on a redder coloration.  Saddened by this "second loss" of her husband, she made arrangements(large donation) for her Sarenite brother-in-law to assume his care as a Ward of the Church of Sarenrae in Vigil.  She then hanged herself.  Numb to these events, Viken was led through the house by his uncle, to pick out a few mementos of his mother; He chose a platinum hair clip, a signet ring, and a tortoise-and-silver hair comb to remember her by.

   He learned much at the church: They taught him about Lord Ashmoore, and he clamored for stories about his "father" slaying giants.  They taught him to write by copying scrolls, and of his slight trace of orc blood and how people would probably call him a half-orc, even though he was essentially human.  In reacting to these prejudices, he became almost obsessed with cleanliness and grooming: taking baths whenever possible, shaving his coarser-than-usual stubble daily, dusting his face with talcum, his underarms with soda ash, brushing his teeth, rubbing balsam oil in his hair, and wearing cologne and fashionable clothes.  And to remember his mother fondly, keeping his hair long, combing it straight an hour per day, and pulling it back into a pony-tail clipped with her hair clip.  

  Through these freedoms afforded by his uncle, he became a temperate and likeable man.  However, he knew the law of the land prohibited him from his family name due to illegitimacy.  So, when he decided to become a cleric of Sarenrae, he renamed himself at his "dawning ceremony." He chose the single name Beorht: An orcish word for "Dawn," and changed his signet ring to have an image of the Sarenrae Angel-Ankh.  He was given a portion of his mother's donation to embark upon a career as an adventuring cleric.  He decided to head to Belkzen to try to bring whatever peace and hope he could to it's beleaguered inhabitants, and to foster his curiosity about giants.



OK, so I got carried away.

I had initially thought he'd be half-orc when I thought this up, but in the end wanted him human so I had to figure out a way to stay true to my original concept.  Thanks for reading.

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I presented this to Haldir four days ago. He said it was up to me if I wanted to share my background, but since everyone else is sharing theirs, I figure why not. I did add a little to make it sound like he's talking to his new companions.


At a table in the Ramblehouse, Roryn pulls out his pipe and starts packing it. He then begins his tale.


"I was born 50 years ago on a cold day in Calistril in the dwarven sky citadel of Janderhoff, the 2nd son of Rorik, an armorer and Ulrikka, a midwife. My brother Rogar was 5 years older than I and my parents were exceptionally pleased to be blessed with a second son.

 I was an average child, leading the average life of a dwarven youth. I was always a happy kid, laughing a lot and generally living a carefree life. That was until 15 years ago. Myself and several other youths, not including my brother who was becoming quite skilled at the forge under the tutelage of my father, went out with our mothers and several guards to gather herbs. While we were out we were attacked by a large force of orcs. Too many for the guards to deal with, it was obvious, so our mothers instead of fleeing turned and fought allowing us children to go an get help. However by the time we got help and the force returned to the spot where the attack had happened, there was no one left to rescue. Most of the dwarves had been slain, their bodies desecrated by the greenskins, but of my mother and one other dwarven woman there was no sign. The rescue force attempted to follow the tuskers, but they can move swiftly through the mountains and the group was unable to catch them.

 This event hit me hard, but it hit my father harder. He fell into a deep depression and his work suffered as a result. My brother tried to fill in for our father, but his skills weren't completely honed yet and he was unable to do so. After five years, our debt had mounted to the point where we had to choice but to take up work at a new mining settlement in the eastern Mindspin mountains called Felglen. But during those five years before we moved I decided I wanted to learn the ways of the ranger so I could hunt orcs. I impressed upon my uncle Mordik, a renown giantslayer to teach me some of the ways of the ranger. He agreed, although he spent many months outside the halls of Janderhoff and my training proceeded exceptionally slow since he was only able to train me  for brief periods of time while he was back. Another event happened, during those five years that influenced me. One of the other families, the Bragsuns, who had lost a wife/mother on that fateful day decided to blame me for the event. Why, I never found out. But over those five years the family would harass me in the halls, sometimes the older son and his cousins would hunt me, but I'm pretty stealthy when I wish to be, and very perceptive so they were never able to catch me.

  They laid a trap of another sorts for me. There was this lass, Bridgit, that I was sweet on. I always thought she was sweet on me as well. I decided to pledge my troth to her. But she insisted that in order to prove my worth, I bring her one of the rings from the High Old One of Torag, not to keep of course, but just to admire for a bit. So, stupid me, I did it brought her back the ring one night while the High Old One was sleeping. Of course it was a trap, with the guards and the Bragsuns waiting for me when I was to meet her. I realized then that it was a trap, blind I was to the real danger. It was then that I learned not to be so trusting.

  Well, I was to be banished, my beard shaved and the term -slag attached to my name. But my uncle, who was highly respected spoke up for me. And agreed to accompany me and my family to Felglen as a scout and caravan guard for a period of ten years in reparation for my crime. I was also to be a caravan guard. Little did I know at the time, that becoming a caravan guard would be the best thing that could happen to me. 

  About a month later we left for Felglen, and after a couple of weeks travel through the tunnels and then the surface we arrived. My first thought was "there's not much here". Still being dwarves we set about doing what we came to do, strengthen the settlement and make it more prosperous. After about a year, I'd say we had the place in pretty good shape, with a couple of watch towers and a palisade. The time on the surface had seemed to have had a positive effect on my father and his craft returned to his normal skill level. He even spent a little more time teaching my brother and I the finer points of working with metal, although my brother was far more advanced than I.

  I found out I didn't much care for the restrictive nature of some of the metal armors. I asked my father to help me with some leather armor, which he did, although mostly he felt that leather should be for padding and strapping.

  After the first year, the caravans started up. Mostly we went back to Janderhoff or down to the Bloodsworn Vale, but occasionally we went to the human town of Trunau and the on to the fortress of Lastwall, and once we made the trip all the way down to Kraggodan. But it was in Trunau that I learned of Cayden Cailean. He appealed to me right away. I always found our Gods kind of stuffy and boring and here was this human that became a God with a tankard of ale in one hand and a toothpick in the other! Talk about style! I learned as much as I could about him, and the more I learned, the more I liked, Especially the part where he wants to free all slaves. My mother being taken by the orcs had never left the back of my mind, so this really struck a cord with me. In between caravan trips, my uncle took me out into the wilds, to learn more of the ranger's craft. We also explored a few tombs in the mountains. There he showed me the finer points of finding and disabling traps."


(At this Roryn lights his pipe with the candle from the table)


  "So the next 9 years went. Until one crisp day in Lamashan. We were coming back from a trip to Trunau. I could see my uncle was on edge, even I had noticed the increased orc sign and he told me that he had noticed the tracks of giantkin. We smelled the smoke before we came over the edge of the glen, whereupon we noticed the battle. The dwarves had done well, telling by the amount of orc bodies and even a couple of ogres, but the defenses had been breeched and there were still dozens of orcs plus some ogres and even a hill giant left. It looked liked many of the guards had already been killed, but many of the miners and townsfolk were still fighting. Needless to say we joined in the battle. At first it went well as we had the element of surprise on our side, but too quickly our advance stalled. My uncle was a whirlwind, quickly felling two ogres and then heading towards the hill giant last I saw. Four orcs came against me, I was hard pressed and afterwards severely wounded, but I prevailed. I thought to myself, "revenge for me ma". The dwarves held but barely, less than a dozen left alive. My uncle was gravely wounded, loosing his right leg below the knee, but killed the hill giant in single combat. Unfortunately, my brother and my father fell defending the forge. From the amount of orcs piled about, it must have been quite a last stand.

  After the battle, we made the decision to leave Felglen for Janderhoff as we were too few to hold it against another attack. The honored dead were burned on a communal pyre. The orcs and giants were left to rot. My uncle though wounded, saw to it that anything of value was loaded up into the two wagons left. I took my father's beard clasp, and one of my brother's rings in memory. I also took one tusk from each of the orcs I killed.


 (Here he produces a leather thong with four orc tusks on it from one of his bandoleer pockets. He then tucks it away.)


 As we were leaving Felglen, my uncle seeing the anger in my eye said to me,  'Aye Roryn, you've a right to seek vengeance. But don't let it blind you to the good and beautiful in the world.' I looked at him, lying there, and he was smiling. I asked him how he could smile at a time like this? He replied, as he was packing his pipe 'Well, I can still enjoy my pipe. And tonight we'll toast the memory of your father and brother.' The toast reminded me of Cayden, who had overcome impossible odds, and a smile crept across my face. 'That's the spirit Roryn' said my uncle, 'there's always another dawn.'

  We made it back to Janderhoff without incident. After 3 months, during which there we many ceremonies and toasts for the honored dead as well as the beginning of discussions as to whether or not to resettle Felglen, I began to feel trapped. It had been almost a decade since I had spent this much time in one place. I was getting anxious to see new horizons as well as begin to get vengeance for my father and brother. I went to talk to my uncle. I found him carving a new pipe. I let him know that I had desire to roam. He certainly understood that he said. I also let him know that I desired to seek vengeance for our kin. With a wry grin he said he understood that too. He asked me where I would go. I told him that I thought that Trunau would be a good choice as it seemed to be in the middle of orc territory. He said that seemed like a sound choice. The he reached into his belt pouch and handed me his pipe. 'Whenever you smoke this Roryn, remember your kin and smile' he said. I'll never forget those last words."

  With his tale ended, Roryn hoists his mug and with a smile and a winks and says, "To new companions and new roads, and more orc tusks. Cheers friends, may Cayden smile on us."

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