Evil Pathfinder

[Yukina]

Could someone a little more familiar with the system take a quick look over? I don't want to have missed anything but I'm like 95% convinced that I'm solid.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Name: Cricket. Race: Human. Class/Level: Zen Qinggong Monk 4. Favoured Bonus: H.
Alignment: LE. Pointbuy: 14/14/13/10/17/10 = 20.

Strength 14, Dexterity 14, Constitution 13, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 20, Charisma 10
Initiative +8
Perception +12
Hit Points 36

Armor Class 19, touch 19, flatfooted 17 (class 1, wis 5, dex 2, def 1)
CMD 18 (bab 3, class 1, dex 2, str 2)
Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +7

Speed 40
Base Attack +3, Base Flurry +2 (+2/+2)
CMB +8
Fist +5 (1d8+2)
Bow +10 (1d8+3/Crit [(1d8+3)x3]+3, 110’)
Bow within 30’ +11 (1d8+4/Crit [(1d8+4)x3]+3, 110’)
Bow flurry +9/+9 (1d8+3/Crit [(1d8+3)x3]+3, 110’)
Bow flurry within ’30 +10/+10 (ditto)


Traits: Exile, Resilient,
Drawback: Family Ties (sister), Killer
Feats:
1st: Toughness
Human: Improved Initiative
Monk 1st: Improved Unarmed Strike
Monk 1st: Perfect Strike (bow, special)
Monk 1st: Precise Shot (does not suffer -4 for shooting into melee)
Monk 2nd: Weapon Focus (longbow)
Monk 2nd: Point Blank Shot (+1 attack/danage within ’30)
Monk 3rd: Point Blank Master (does not provoke for using ranged weapon while threatened)
3rd: Deadly Aim (-1 ranged attack, +2 ranged damage)


Monk Class Abilities
* Bow Flurry: no flurry with any other weapon
* Perfect Strike: 4/day, once/round, as part of attack; roll two d20s for one bow attack, with the discard as confirmation if the first threatens
Zen Archery: Cricket uses Wisdom to determine ranged attacks
* Ki Pool: 8/day swift and one round unless stated:
1= (i) extra bow flurry [one attack], (ii) +50’ bow increment, (iii) +4 dodge armour,
(iv) unarmed bow damage, (v) +20 speed or jump, (vi) +3 barkskin [stnd, 60 mins]

Skills: Acrobatics +9 (4 rank, 3 class, 2 stat), Heal +11 (3 rank, 3 class, 5 stat) Perception+12 (4 rank, 3 class, 5 stat), Ride +6 (1 rank, 3 class, 2 stat), Stealth +9 (4 rank, 3 class, 2 stat)

Gear (6,000gp): composite str14 longbow+1 (2600gp, 3lb), ring of protection+1 (2000gp), cloak of resistance+1 (1000gp), 2 potions of mage armor (100gp), 10 smoke arrows (100gp, 10lb), masterwork backpack (50gp, 4lb), 200 arrows (10gp, 30lb), 40 blunt arrows (4gp, 6lb), cold iron knuckles (2gp, 1lb), soap (1gp, 2lb), 133gp
Encumbrance (light 56lb):

It seems ok. (Don't worry. I'm currently in an awkward position myself. My entire morning has been a minor proof of why I should never build PF character sheets so late at night.)

[Ixy]

I'm working on a Tiefling Bloodrager. Her concept is that she was kept as a freak show attraction for the first part of her life, exhibited as a ' captured devil ' by a charlatan mage who dehumanized and degraded her.  She was freed by barbarian raiders, and quickly realized the extent of her abilities once the whips and Wands of Sickening were taken away.

[eBadger]

We seem to have a raiding/bandit theme going on.  That might be a simpler place to start from than a jailbreak; we're already friends and comrades that are turning from theivery to exploration.

[Chulanowa]

I'll glue something together after work. Ugh I hate short-shifting.

[Yukina]

We seem to have a raiding/bandit theme going on.  That might be a simpler place to start from than a jailbreak; we're already friends and comrades that are turning from theivery to exploration.

Seconded. :) *reads "exploration" as "overturning everything we come across"*

[Regina Minx]

We seem to have a raiding/bandit theme going on.  That might be a simpler place to start from than a jailbreak; we're already friends and comrades that are turning from theivery to exploration.

If by exploration you mean graverobbing...

[Chulanowa]

If by exploration you mean graverobbing...

I prefer to think of it as recovering abandoned antiquities and returning ancient objets d'art to the modern world. Our actions in this desert could start a new cultural movement, nay, a renaissance even!

Besides, they're more like tombs than graves, anyway...

[Regina Minx]

If that makes you sleep better at night, sirrah. Me, I think of it as lazy banidtry. When you bandit, you kill people and take their stuff. Here, they're already dead, and we're just taking their stuff. Bigger payout, less work.

[Zaer Darkwail]

Updated my earlier post include link to charsheet and also some info on his personality. Intent is to get Vile leadership in 7th level so he can start gather his own minions which to bully/punish (and slaves). Expecting by time on 7th level we have established stronghold or base of operation some kind in desert.

[LisztesFerenc]

  Wow, these are some great characters. I wasn't expecting people to already have mechanics written up, so very quickly here are some setting specifics rules, more for general fluff, but will require some general tweaking of character sheets. Sorry everyone:



  Coins: the common currencies of the land are silver, bronze and copper. This is because I feel gold should be special, and not a metal used in every day transactions. Hopefully this will not prove too complicated.

  Languages: Common does not exist, in its place is Trade. As the name implies it is used by traders, and can cover general conversation. What it does not do well is elaborate word play or convey precise, non-trade related information. Diplomacy and elaborate bluff attempts (such as “We represent the royal guard of the crown, “ as oppose to “It wasn't us, we're innocent,”) take a -4 penalty when done in Trade. Furthermore, attempting to convey non-trade related information quickly can be tricky. During combat and other rushed scenarios, a DC: 10 Linguistics check must be made to relay information in Trade (“It has high spell resistance,” “Ignore the archers, I'll deal with them,” “Aim between the 4th and 5th rib, its a weak spot”). If the check is a failure, you can choose to either give up, or instead convey the information as a move action (making success  automatic).
  Eshna replaces Common as the human language. Everyone can swap Common for Trade, Eshna, or any other language a high intelligence modifier would give them access to.

  Weapons: Usual stuff: bows, clubs, spears, blades. Rapiers and over fancy weapons are rarer, but by no means unheard of. However, due to the limited metal working skill of the land, metal weapons cannot be crafted as master work and need to be imported. As such, a masterwork metal weapon costs an extra 500 silver pieces. Non-metal masterwork weapons cost the standard +300 silver. However, a weapon need not be masterwork to be enchanted into a magical weapon.

  Armour: It is hot in the desert, few people bother wearing heavier armours. Light and medium armour costs the same, but heavy armour is often imported and in short supply, costs an extra 50%. As with weapons, masterwork metal armour costs more. Add 200 silver to the price of light metal armour, 300 for medium and 400 to heavy (after the 1.5 price multiplication).
  Worth noting is the effect armour has on you in a hot climate. Simply wearing armour gives you a penalty to saves to avoid negative effects from the hot environment as follows:
  Light, not metal: -1
  Light, metal: -2
  Medium, not metal: -3
  Medium, metal: -4
  Heavy, not metal: -6
  Heavy, metal: -8

Of course, if you have Endure Element or are otherwise immune to these effects, then the price is the only drawback specific to this game for such armour.

  Background skills: This game will use the background skills variant rules. Basically you receive an extra 2 skill points per level, that can only be spent on the following:

     Background Skills
Appraise
Artistry
Craft
Handle Animal
Knowledge (engineering)
Knowledge (geography)
Knowledge (history)
Knowledge (nobility)
Linguistics
Lore
Perform
Profession
Sleight of Hand

  Further details: http://www.d20pfsrd.com/skills/background-skills/



  Okay, that should be everything, hopefully these house rules aren't too obnoxious/difficult to understand. Don't hesitate to ask if something is unclear, and sorry these weren't delivered earlier, again the speed of things caught me off guard.

[Zaer Darkwail]

Ok, need adjust some prices. But as GM approval your okay I can use summon monster II variant? Variant which allows me summon hell hound with summon monster II. Normally it's listed 4th level summon but some modules seem have Asmodeus disciples casting it earlier. Also how much a ruby dagger would cost? A one which is not masterwork/meant for combat but more for ritual purposes to draw blood/cut flesh?

[SeraphAzriel]

Albron Mahmud

Alright, throwing my hat into the ring.  Putting the background under a spoiler cuz it got a bit longer than I was expecting. 

Half Giant
Aegis/Warhulk

I realize that these are a third party race/class, but I'm interested in playing a divine refluffed version of the class.  Psionics I'm not particularly interested in.  If that's not possible, then I don't mind making something else more RAW.  I'm holding out on crunching numbers until I know whether or not it's a kosher idea.

Background

These are the old stories, the ones my sisters and brothers learned from their fathers and mothers.  Such was our way.  There were many tribes of my kin in the sands once.  Some of us would guide caravans through to the other side.  Some herded sheep and camel.  Others were content to live with their tents in peace. 
When the father of my great grandfather was young, he laid beside his wife one night and dreamed.  He looked and saw many men on one side of the desert, with their spears and shields.  Then he looked to the other side and saw many of the sandwalkers with bows and curved swords on the other.  Both cried loudly at one another, and swore curses and oaths.  My honored ancestor knew naught why they clashed shields and shook spears so fiercely.  The sight of so many warriors made his heart shake like a tent flap in the hot wind. 
   Then from the desert strode a figure.  Tall, as tall as the stars.  His form was the shape of metal, with spines like the peaks of distant mountains.  Eyes shone in that dream like polished rubies that caught the sun’s caress.  “Listen.”  The figure’s voice boomed across the desert.  “For I tell you that my hand reaches into the desert and much blood will be spilled as I will it.”  My honored ancestor quaked before the might and strength of this armored form.  “You follow me.  Now I tell you that you and your kin shall be my spear bearers.” 
   My honored ancestor shook with fright.  “Oh but my lord!  I have but few sons and daughters!  I have swords enough to fight in your name, but I bear no mail with which to protect my breast!  I shall fight as you say, but let me live that I might fight longer in your name!”
   The Lord In Iron’s eyes blazed.  “Do no quake like a child that hears the jackal’s scampering at night.  You shall go raise your arms against the enemy and you shall go with my blessing.”  Gorum then did stretch forth and smite my ancestor with his mailed fist, leaving a great mark upon his forehead.  “You now bear my mark.  You will walk at my side and your tents shall swell with strong children.  Step as I do and your purse shall never empty.  Raise your blade, fight, and kill as to honor me and I shall lend you my mail.”  Then the God of Battle spoke with my ancestor and opened his mind’s eye, that he might make with his thoughts steel enough to deflect even the mightiest of swords. 
   My honored ancestor then awoke and pulled down his tent, that he might walk with Gorum.
   This is the story that my brothers and sisters speak.  My honored ancestor lead his family to those who lived in the sands, who were few in number to the men.  There he broke bread with them and said that he would raise sword for them against men.  They Old People were glad for this and gave him little coin and jewels that he might be happy for fighting alongside them. 
   Thus when battle was joined did he sally forth alongside the sandwalkers bearing a great sword and roaring Gorum’s name, clad in steel like black glass.  My honored ancestor did fall upon them as the laughing wolf seizes the throat of the antelope.  He took many heads in the Lord In Iron’s name.  The number of men was great but they did not have His blessing.  Their swords and axes were turned aside by the black glass he bore.  The sandwalkers shot at the men from afar.  Thus did the Old People know victory.  My honored ancestor was given a great many spoils from the battle.
   So did he and his kin fight beside them, giving glory to Gorum with every beheading, every raid, every siege, throughout the whole of the war.  As the God of War promised my honored ancestor grew mighty indeed.  The strong women of many tribes came to him and he took many wives that gave him sons with strong spear arms and daughters that could bear shield.  They fought alongside their father when they were old enough to bear weapons. 
   Such is the history of my family.  My honored ancestor died in the final battle against men.  But his son, my great grandfather was wise and gave great glories to Gorum.  So did the Lord In Iron come to him as he slept beside his wife one night. 
   “I now come to you as I came to your father.  You will walk with me.  A great storm shall come and tear the flesh from those who live here.  You shall take up your tent and walk across many dunes to where the land is hard and much grass grows in the plains.  You will stay there until I call for you again.”  My great grandfather nodded and did as he was told.  My family moved to the savannah.  There did my kin and forefathers take up our arms and mail to keep our spear arms strong until Gorum called upon us.  As the God of War had spoke, a great storm descended upon the desert.  And all those who stayed there had their flesh torn from bone and died. 
   My great grandfather held communion in Gorum’s name.  We visited battle on surviving tribes.  We slew those that raised hand against us and took their daughters for our wives.  My family grew in number, strength, and riches.  We raided merchant caravans as we roamed the desolate plains.  My uncles and aunts spread forth their own tents elsewhere as my kin grew in number.  Our spears would go to whoever paid us, apart from the likes of men.  My family’s name gained much honor in Gorum’s service. 
So did we live until the time of my father. 
   Then did the Lord In Iron speak to him, saying, “As I have spoken to your forefathers so shall I speak unto you.  In a fortnight’s time shall the howling winds grow quiet and the desert shall be open again.  None bear spears yet but hearts ache to spill blood.  You and your family shall return.  But for three sons and three daughters.  These you shall send forth into the cities that they might spread your name again amongst the peoples of the sand and the Old People will remember the compact made with your tribe.”
   So it was that my father sent me and my brothers and sisters into the new desert, to the towns and the oases that we might spread our family’s name and power again.  I was a sellsword for a time.  The coin is nice, but battle in itself is payment enough.  I crave to know the thrill of war as my honored ancestor did.  However...things are different from those times.  There are new powers now, more of those picking about the edges of ancient battlegrounds.  I have aligned myself with one of these vipers, to spread my family’s name and my own.  There are comrades now.  Brothers and sisters in arms.  They are fine companions to have.  Perhaps...close to my own family.

Personality
Strength prefers strength.  Albron is strong and prefers those about him to have strength as well, that they might be of use in a fight.  He is intelligent enough of course to realize that there  are unfortunately many problems that can’t be solved by a cracked skull, and is willing to leave such matters to those with the patience suited for such complicated affairs.  His primary concern is to give a good acquittal of himself in a conflict that he might honor Gorum with spilled blood and naked steel.  Although not particularly given over to promises and oaths he has a certain dogged kind of loyalty.  People that he sees as trustworthy and worthy of respect are a kind of extension of his family.  Family gets fond, preferential treatment.  There are some rather enjoyable perks on being on the good side of a nearly eight foot tall giantblood with a hammer about as large as he.  Albron is wary of ‘outsiders’, which tends to include anyone not an ally or family.  For him, there is little else in the world that interests him beyond friends, family, and battle.

Description
Albron stands at 7’8” tall, weighing in at three hundred pounds.  His physique is a build similar to that of a mud brick house.  Sturdy and powerful.  Not to mention very large.  The skin of his tribe tends towards very dark colors, shades of dark brown to even black.  Albron’s is very much on the dark end of the spectrum.  The hair on his body, in remarkably sharp contrast, is a brilliant shade of copper.  His hair is long and run pasts his shoulders, although he prefers to keep it in intricate braids that it might not interfere with him in battle.  His attire is generally the long robes that most travelers prefer in the sands as well as the usual cheche.  When not necessary he prefers the traditional wear amongst his tribe, a small skirt and sandals. 

[LisztesFerenc]

Updated my earlier post include link to charsheet and also some info on his personality. Intent is to get Vile leadership in 7th level so he can start gather his own minions which to bully/punish (and slaves). Expecting by time on 7th level we have established stronghold or base of operation some kind in desert.

  I'm think I'm going to have to disallow Vile Leadership as a feat. Its way too powerful, and if one character takes it, then others should be allowed to as well, and that will just get overwhelming real fast. You should get followers and maybe even a cohort, but this should be for story reasons.

[Regina Minx]

And slaves, boss. Nothing like a high-value commodity that can haul ITSELF across the dessert.

[LisztesFerenc]

  Also more fun than other merchandise. There's only so much you can do to entertain yourself with a cart load of copper pans.

  Updated character creation: point buy 20, two traits, one draw back (not 3 traits in total, just 2 and the draw back), standard wealth (6,000gpsp), HP maximum at first level, then averager rounding up (d4 = 3, d6 = 5, ect). All official PF sources are good, homebrew and third party will be considered. Warrior Lord of Unholy Darkness for example is approved.

[Cataclysmic Archangel]

Missed quite a few posts. Saw something about a raiding band?  All the good stuff happens while I’m not home to see my books. Sounds like my paladin idea may not work, but seems there’s already quite a large group.

[Yukina]

The edits to my sheet have been made.

[Ixy]

 

Khait, Pitborn Tiefling.  NE Abyssal Bloodrager.
Hammers fall onto wooden staves, driving them into the hard-packed ground of the baked clay near the riverbed, which winds like a dried vein through the dead flesh of the once-green Valley of Wilizi.  The stakes draw creaks from the ropes, make billowing canvas of the many-times-patched tents snap taut.  They are stained over the years from piss-yellow to whore-rouge pink in alternating incarnations of desert dust, like the skins and the costumes and the make-ups of the carnies themselves. 

The pulley to the water's edge is being tested, creaking its half-hour journey to return murky water barely fit for the animals to drink, and the cookfires are still building to consume the coal they brought with them-- there's not much wood to be found, and the animals will consume the little scrub-grass before the next nightfall, but the traders and the desert-people, they will come.  This place is well-known, well-found, and one of their most profitable venues, perhaps because of its remoteness, because they are the only ones who will dare it.  In fact, a few gawkers have come already, and rather than shunning them-- risking a loss of income in the act-- the traveling performers have thrown together an impromptu teaser-show, a promise of more to come, foreplay for the greater event to ensure they return at the sun's last hours.

The remoteness of it is perfectly suitable to them.  They are far from law, far from civility, far from the wrestling control of tax-men and sanctimony.  Here in the expanse, no one bats an eye at their ecclectic shows, except to squint harder to see more.  Is it the Producer's aversion to law-- perhaps a troubled past-- that has driven them to this niche market?  Or is it a taste... a craving of his, or theirs?  Is it that they are all deviants.  Certainly the Girl is, so they've said... but she doesn't know quite why.  They must know something she doesn't.

So as the tent snaps against the desert wind one last time and no longer yields, she watches and pretends it's a sail taking the wind, and that the great sands they drove through, which she witnessed through the bars, were the great white ocean from the books.  She's never seen the ocean, so why shouldn't it be the same?  She hums softly and her thumb strokes a ragged coconut husk, and with her eyes closed it's a doll's hair.  This is normal enough, she thinks.  It's basically home.

A barker's voice beyond, not lacking in enthusiasm, continues its imitation of excitement to laud the skills of a contortionist's skill, even as its owner throws back the tent flap.  "And here, though the full displays are not yet ready, you can see how vast our collection of oddities has grown!  Yes, for but a few coins, you can see the strangest of the world's beings, all brought to your land for display-- we have a Grippli-beast, a giant, soft-skinned green being that swims in water like a bird flies through air-- believe it, yes, you will see.  And-- ah, this cage has been left open!"  She emerges into view of the bars, the Producer... her long legs and tall boots making her elven form look like a walking stiletto.  "Tsk tsk--" she chides, "And this one is one of our more interesting displays-- and yet not THE most rare by far.  Yes, this one you get a free peek at, but... you may approach no closer--" her silhouette is dark against the afternoon sun washing through the open flap, blinding the girl's sensitive eyes.

There is muttering in a foreign tongue, but the Producer continues in Common. "Yes, a free peek for you!  There, in that cage, we have captured a devilspawn-- an interdimensional being held in check by protective, magical wards!  Be not afraid, this one is under full control of our--" CRACK! as the producer's shadowy hand slaps the hollow wooden casket, ringing it like a drum and making the girl start.  "--our own blessed runes and wards.  Yes, you can see, even study a hell-spawned infernal.  Just look..." The producer's features are almost clear now as the girl's eyes adjust to the light.  "Just look.  She's almost beautiful... for a freak."

The girl looked up at their faces, and though she could barely make them out, she could not see their faces.  So she simply smiled, thinking, still, that this might show them she was friendly.  More than one of the small cluster of onlookers shrank away.  This didn't bother her any more, so she leaned back against the corner, recrossed her legs, and let her tail uncurl itself to wave in the air like a searching snake.

"We'd best go before you're bewitched... come back tonight to see her... more completely," the Producer assured them, her walking staff pointing them back to the tent flap they'd entered.  Something sinister in that statement clung in the tent like a bad smell.

That was the first night, a realization that she had ascended from mere curiosity to high-ticket attraction.  All wanted to see, but many wanted to touch, and with that came coin for her masters.

*

Seven years of this.  Wands of enfeeblement and of nausea kept her from fighting back.  Stygian chains kept her from escaping.  Whips kept her in check when things got out of hand-- and they did, like the time she bit out the throat of a merchant-guard who'd sacrificed a year's pay for her company, and even the whip couldn't make her release his severed windpipe until he stopped making gutteral, spurting breaths through the ragged hole.  She managed to wheedle books away from time to time, but the fare was limited.  She learned a few dances, but more and more potent enchantments were required to maintain her docile state.  The conversation had come up more than once that she should be sold off-- either to a pit-fighting crew or a wealthy collector-- but the opportunist Producer was reluctant to part with the flow of wealth until one more score each time. 

In a twist of fate, it was she who almost saved them all when the raiders struck; barbarians, never expected so far in the wastes seiged them before dawn after a particularly successful tour, slaughtering their labor animals and labormen alike.  It was in desperation that the Producer freed her, stood behind her, hid in the corner in the hopes that the raiders would focus their attention on the strange, exotic prize-- and when she stretched herself from her cold-iron casket and found her chains loosed, she was reluctant to accept this chance at freedom... it had to be a trick, and not the first of its like.  It was the swinging blades that convinced her otherwise, the pain of a broken arm, the fierce choking grapple at her throat, the clumsy, fierce ripping at her meager garb.  It woke something in her, the thing that had so rarely been sated.. and it wouldn't rest until she stood on sands wet to mud with the blood of the raiders, her claws and teeth red with their deaths, and a trail of ragged bodies leading to her cage as she waded deeper and deeper into the fray.

When it was over, the Producer emerged from hiding-- shaky-voiced and shivering with fear, babbling thanks and promises, assurances that this was the end of her enslavement, that she would be free and wealthy, have half her Mistress' fortune until her death.

"Free?" She had asked, remembering how a Paladin had come to slay her, once, and stayed to fuck her when determining she was not -actually- a devil.  "But Mistress," she'd answered, popping her dislocated shoulder back into its socket, then giving a wild smile of relief, "you said nothing was ever free..."

She was not frenzied when she finished the Producer; she made it last until the dawn's light cascaded down upon the wreckage of so much death, until the screams could no longer come, until she could no longer be revived to suffer more, then she left the Producer in her iron coffin as she set the tent ablaze.

[SeraphAzriel]

Daaaang!  That's a pretty cool character you've got there Ixy! 

  Also more fun than other merchandise. There's only so much you can do to entertain yourself with a cart load of copper pans.

  Updated character creation: point buy 20, two traits, one draw back (not 3 traits in total, just 2 and the draw back), standard wealth (6,000gpsp), HP maximum at first level, then averager rounding up (d4 = 3, d6 = 5, ect). All official PF sources are good, homebrew and third party will be considered. Warrior Lord of Unholy Darkness for example is approved.

Uhmmm...I was a bit confused and took a look in my Core Rulebook, in which the wealth by level for a 4th level character is stated to be 6,000gp.  Is there a detail that I'm missing...?  Or are we just counting gp as sp?

[Chulanowa]

yeah, in this setting, Silver = Gold, Bronze = silver, and copper = copper.

[Chulanowa]

I'm feeling spellcaster personally. i'm not 100% sure what exactly just yet, but I know it's gonna waggle fingers and have an interest in esoteric plunder

[Zaer Darkwail]

Missed quite a few posts. Saw something about a raiding band?  All the good stuff happens while I’m not home to see my books. Sounds like my paladin idea may not work, but seems there’s already quite a large group.

Your antipaladin could come from same area/background as my char did :)

[Ixy]

Daaaang!  That's a pretty cool character you've got there Ixy! 

Thank you, yours too- always liked the half-giant idea but never much cared for psionics.

Anyway, still need some adjustments, but basically ready for application.

One brief question of LF and company:does a Tiefling's fire resistance protect against environmental heat/desert conditions?

[LisztesFerenc]

One brief question of LF and company:does a Tiefling's fire resistance protect against environmental heat/desert conditions?

  As long as you stay hydrated yes it will protect you from sunstroke/burn and general heat exhaustion, but if you don't manage to drink any water for the day, you'll feel the full effects. Love your character by the way.

  In case some people missed this, magical weapons, even metal ones, are actually cheaper in this game, since they don't need to be masterwork to become magical a mundane weapon can be enchanted for 2,000. If you have a masterwork weapon, I'll allow the 300 to enchanting, so if you ever want to make it a +1 weapon, it will cost 1,700 rather than 2,000.

  Group is looking good, liking the bandit theme. Is everyone going to start knowing each other, or will people start in the desert already bandits, and other come in from the cities to make an alliance/agreement as the pickings are suddenly going to get a lot juicier, and thus likely more well protected too?

[Regina Minx]

Our illustrious GM has helped me fix some mistakes I made in my character sheet. It looks like Cricket is ready to go, with the one addition to her backstory is that after she and her sister (names withheld to protect the innocent guilty) had their falling out with their ex-monk mother, they returned to their home in the city on the edge of the desert and helped themselves to what they thought of as their birthright. In Cricket's case, it's a scroll that her mother took from the Monastery of the Desert Wind which describes the secret of their Way of the Bow, which is what enables Cricket to continue along the path of the monk despite hanging out with a bunch of horse thieves.

Putting up a revised character sheet.

Background: Cricket's mother was an acolyte at the Order of the Desert Winds, a monastery on the border of the Morasti Desert, located in a valley just before the last bend of the road that takes merchant caravans out into the endless, elf-blasted wastes. But for a single night's indiscretion, Cricket's mother would have joined that order and lived her life in a rigorous discipline, studying the world within and learning the ancient secrets of the martial path.

Instead, she encountered a handsome, winking stranger, and her vow of chastity was forgotten beneath the man's spread cloak. A few months later, when her pregnancy could not be ignored, the Grand Master of the order exiled Cricket's mother to a life of drudgery on the outskirts of civilization. Even the birth of her daughters (twins...normally an auspicious omen) did little to relieve the bitterness and regret that plagued Cricket's mother to this very day. Seeing in her daughters the red-orange hair and lilac eyes of her seducer, to see her offspring was to be reminded of her sin and all that she had lost. Having only the skills of a half-trained monk to trade for bread, the exile worked as a caravan guard, crossing the deserts so often that her skin became as leathery and dark as the hides of the sturdy desert horses.

Having no one to watch, Cricket and her twin sister accompanied their mother from the day they were old enough to walk. And since a desert caravan has no room for those who only take, from the time they were old enough to hold a slingshot, a knife, or a bow, they participated in the defense of the caravan and its supplies as they trundled from one oasis to the next. By the time Cricket and her sister were 16, they had crossed the desert more times than they could count, and both were canny, cunning warriors with an ability that their size betrayed, and had learned from their mother what the ex-monk could teach them about the ways of monastic combat.

Of course, two fresh young girls are bound to be drawn to other battles than to defend against raiders and horse thieves. One night, Cricket's sister was set upon by one of their fellow guards. A description of what he did would last longer than the act itself, for acting on instinct, Cricket took an arrow to her trusty bow and skewered the would-be rapist through the spine. One thing leading to another, Cricket and her sister were forced to flee into the desert when the caravan leader and the dead man's captain would not believe that the fault was not Cricket's and her sister. The worse sting of all came from their mother, who saw in the aborted assault her own sins reflected and accused Cricket, her sister, and both of being seduced by the guard, just as she was all those years ago.

Cricket and her sister would have died had they not been discovered by a gang of desert raiders and bandits, intent on attacking the same caravan that the girls had been a member of the previous day. They were allowed to join the bandits, and live to see the next day, only on the condition that they help raid those they had once protected. Having no sense of loyalty compelling them to stay, the two joined as they were bidden, and attacked the caravan by night, sparing only Cricket's mother, who was exiled in turn and left to wander the desert sands.

Cricket and her sister returned home not long after, to take from their mother's home what they felt was their birthright. In addition to the household goods, Cricket removed only one item from the house that she still keeps by her side: an ancient scroll, long since taken from the Monastery of the Desert Winds, that contains the secret of her remarkable archery skills. Her sister, not wanting to continue down the path that they chose, remained in the city to carve out a new life for herself. Cricket has remained in one outlaw band or another since turning thief. She has a taste for it and loves the free, fierce life of stealing and raiding more than she ever did as a dour, silent guard.

Image: Cricket is a lean wait wearing the voluminous, colorless robes of a desert dweller. A well-strung bow and quiver of arrows speak to her role in a group. Beneath her hood and face coverings, she has a fair face ill-suited for the scorching desert sun. Her father's gift is in the blood-colored hair and dark blue, almost purple eyes that stare down the length of an arrow. She is lean and well-muscled, and not-unendowed when you see her beneath her shapeless garb.

Personality: Cricket knew when she began the life of a bandit that an early death was a likely possibility for her, and she is determined that if that is to be her fate, she meet her death when the time comes without regret. She drinks, carouses, gambles, and is free with her affection to a pretty face of any gender. Despite her libertine lifestyle, she is paradoxically disciplined in her personal conduct and ritual; practicing with her bow and meditating every day, and her code of ethics will not permit her to steal from those who have nothing, nor to leave unarmed civilians with nothing to sustain them across the desert after she's robbed them. There is even a kind of mercy in her apparent ruthlessness; while she will shoot a fleeing opponent in the back, it is not from bloodlust. Better die from an arrow in the heart, Cricket reasons, than of thirst beneath the sun.

Character Sheet

Name: Cricket. Race: Human. Class/Level: Zen Qinggong Monk 4. Favoured Bonus: Add +1/4 point to the monk’s ki pool.
Alignment: LE. Pointbuy: 14/14/13/10/17/10 = 20.

Strength 14, Dexterity 14, Constitution 13, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 20, Charisma 10
Initiative +8
Perception +12
Hit Points 27

Armor Class 19, touch 19, flatfooted 17 (class 1, wis 5, dex 2, def 1)
CMD 18 (bab 3, class 1, dex 2, str 2)
Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +10

Speed 40
Base Attack +3, Base Flurry +2 (+2/+2)
CMB +6
Fist +5 (1d8+2)
Bow +10 (1d8+3/Crit x3, 110’)
Bow within 30’ +11 (1d8+4/Crit x3)
Bow flurry +9/+9 (1d8+3/Crit x3], 110’)
Bow flurry within ’30 +10/+10 (1d8+4/Crit x3)


Traits: Exile, Resilient
Drawback: Family Ties (sister)
Feats:
1st: Toughness
Human: Improved Initiative
Monk 1st: Improved Unarmed Strike
Monk 1st: Perfect Strike (bow, special)
Monk 1st: Precise Shot (does not suffer -4 for shooting into melee)
Monk 2nd: Weapon Focus (longbow)
Monk 2nd: Point Blank Shot (+1 attack/damage within 30’)
Monk 3rd: Point Blank Master (does not provoke for using ranged weapon while threatened)
3rd: Deadly Aim (-1 ranged attack, +2 ranged damage)


Monk Class Abilities
* Bow Flurry: no flurry with any other weapon
* Perfect Strike: 4/day, once/round, as part of attack; roll two d20s for one bow attack, with the discard as confirmation if the first threatens
Zen Archery: Cricket uses Wisdom to determine ranged attacks
* Ki Pool: 8/day swift and one round unless stated:
1= (i) extra bow flurry [one attack], (ii) +50’ bow increment, (iii) +4 dodge AC,
(iv) +3 barkskin [stnd, 40 mins]

Skills: Acrobatics +9 (4 rank, 3 class, 2 stat), Climb +6 (1 rank, 3 class, 2 stat), +2 Handle Animal (2 rank), Heal +11 (3 rank, 3 class, 5 stat) Lore (monastic traditions) +5 (2 rank, 3 class), Perception+12 (4 rank, 3 class, 5 stat), Profession (soldier) +10 (2 rank, 3 class, 5 stat), Ride +6 (1 rank, 3 class, 2 stat), Sense Motive +11 (3 rank, 3 class, 5 stat), Survival +6 (1 rank, 5 stat), Stealth +9 (4 rank, 3 class, 2 stat)

Linguistics 1 (Eshna, Trade)

Gear (6,000gp): composite str14 longbow+1 (2300gp, 3lb), ring of protection+1 (2000gp), cloak of resistance+1 (1000gp), 2 potions of mage armor (100gp), 10 smoke arrows (100gp, 10lb), masterwork backpack (50gp, 4lb), 200 arrows (10gp, 30lb), 40 blunt arrows (4gp, 6lb), cold iron knuckles (2gp, 1lb), soap (1gp, 2lb), 2 ioun torches (150gp), 2 weapon cords, 7gp, 277sp
Encumbrance (light 56lb)