Recruitment-[PF][Greyhawk-Small group]

[EndofDivine]

Well. This is awkward. Have another witch, I guess? Spoilers: mine's bonkers. Fortunately, she's also very, very angry at the slavers and likes making them dead. Probably swings between CG on her best days and CE on her worst. Pretty happy with the mechanical stuff but I can tinker a bit here and there if its needed.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Lamora Drach

It was done. Lamora let the dagger fall from bloody hands and collapsed to her knees. Her hands shook as she reached for her beloved's head, pulling his limp body up toward her chest. She knew in her heart he was dead before she even felt the cold lifelessness of his skin. He barely even looked like the same man from so many years ago; emaciated, pale, and aged beyond his years. As he suffered, so did she - Lamora gave up everything she once was just to buy this moment. And this body was all she had to show for her sacrifice.

***

Life was so much simpler before the slavers came. Back then, Lamora had everything a young girl of her social standing could have ever hoped for: a loving husband, a home big enough for the two of them, and a little bit of land that they could use to one day earn themselves a better life together. It was almost too good to be true.

Garrigan was always the friendly sort; it was part of the charm that made Lamora fall in love with him in the first place. He didn't think twice about welcoming a band of cloaked travelers onto his land, offering what little shelter he could provide while remarking on how rare visitors were this far into the countryside. But her husband's hospitality was tossed aside without a word of warning as two of the men grabbed onto his wife, each holding the woman by one arm. Lamora could only struggle futilely as they leered at her and made their lewd remarks as if her husband weren't but a few meters away. Garrigan's charge forward was stopped by a thick hand placed on his chest, the apparent leader of the men halting his aggression to make a 'deal.' Money - a hefty sum that would give any peasant pause - for his wife. It was the easiest decision of Garrigan's life.

One of the men he tackled to the ground, raining blows down onto his face long enough for Lamora to jerk her arm free from her other captor and make a run for it. It seemed that the brigands came to this place expecting a certain outcome considering how fast they drew their weapons. A crossbow bolt lodged itself between Lamora's ribs before she could even take more than a handful of strides, instantly causing her legs to falter as she tumbled to the ground. Over the sound of her own struggling breathing, she heard the shouting - the curses of her husband who swore to kill every last one of them mixed in with the swift shifting of blame from one slaver to another as they all accused one another of killing the woman. Ever the businessman, their leader cut the commotion short and ordered the husband to be restrained. A labor slave was still worth something - not as much as a young woman meant for a different kind of servitude but that opportunity had unfortunately come and gone thanks to one overly eager underling. Lamora forced herself to stay conscious for as long as possible, her eyes locked on her husband through half-opened eyes. She watched as it took five of them to put him in chains and found herself taking some small bit of satisfaction with how hard Garrigan made them work for it in what she thought would be her final moments.

Night had fallen by the time the young woman stirred again. Never in her life had she felt as frail as she did when she tried to push herself off the ground; her arms shook and gave out under her, her breathing naught but a heavy wheeze. Oh right - the bolt. Hopelessness set in as she lay there in the field, shivering from the chilled air and the emptiness she felt inside. But despair quickly became replaced by fury and a stubborn refusal to accept what had happened. This wasn't how things were going to end. She wouldn't let it.

For months, Lamora tried to do things the 'right' way. The authorities were contacted. They did nothing. Lamora posted notices for adventurers and offered her life savings. They never returned. Hopeful patience turned into desperation; every second she wasted was another her husband spent slaving away in some mine, convinced that his wife died that morning on their farm. There had to be other ways - ways that circumvented her lack of personal power and wealth. If only she knew what path such thoughts would lead her down.

***

These days, Lamora is little more than a hermit, living a lonely existence on the same tract of land that holds so many bad memories: her husband's lost freedom and her own brush with death. For the townsfolk nearby, she's a cautionary tale of loss and what it does to a person. Children tell a sensationalized version of her story in hushed whispers, sneaking into the woods at night to see who among them is brave enough to touch the witch's house. Lamora hears every single light tap in the stillness of the night and on the bad days, she finds herself smiling from within the ruined interior of her home as she contemplates snatching the next child to brazenly wander so close. Garrigan always did want children.

But for every bad day, there's a good one. On those days, Lamora quietly sits outside on her porch and looks every bit the opposite of the evil witch she is often painted as, softly rocking in a chair, sipping tea, and knitting clothing obviously meant for a man. There's a lot of reminiscing to be done on those days, wistful sighs and thoughts of what might have been. But as Lamora has learned in her short life, both peace and a mind are easily broken - all it takes to ruin these moments of clarity is a look inside the cracked door of her home. There sits the doll; a soiled, ratty thing with a stitched on smile. It has her husband's ashes - and his voice. It tells her things: how sad it is, how lonely it is, how angry it is. Lamora never could say no to him. She loves him too much.

[swordwind]

OK, I think this is what I will go with. See if it's ok.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Elis
Male human bloodrager (rageshaper) 4 ( Pathfinder RPG Advanced Class Guide 15, 84)
CG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +2; Senses Perception +5
—————
Defense
—————
AC 19, touch 12, flat-footed 17 (+7 armor, +2 Dex)
hp 44 (4d10+16)
Fort +6, Ref +3, Will +1
Defensive Abilities uncanny dodge; Resist draconic resistance
—————
Offense
—————
Speed 40 ft. (30 ft. in armor)
Melee mwk halberd +8 (1d10+4/×3)
Ranged mwk composite shortbow +7 (1d6+3/×3)
Special Attacks blood casting, bloodrage (18 rounds/day), claws
Bloodrager (Rageshaper) Spells Known (CL 4th; concentration +6)
1st (2/day)— enlarge person (DC 13), mount
Bloodline Draconic
—————
Statistics
—————
Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 14
Base Atk +4; CMB +7; CMD 19
Feats Eschew Materials, Extra Rage, Power Attack, Toughness
Traits highlander (hills or mountains), weathered emissary
Skills Acrobatics +6, Climb +8, Handle Animal +6, Intimidate +6, Knowledge (arcana) +6, Linguistics +8,
Perception +5, Spellcraft +5, Stealth +6 (+8 in hilly or rocky areas), Survival +7, Swim +5; Racial
Modifiers highlander (hills or mountains)
Languages Common, Dwarven, Elven, Gnome, Halfling
SQ bestial aspect, fast movement
Other Gear +1 agile breastplate APG, mwk composite shortbow (+3 Str), mwk halberd, cloak of the night
sky, lantern pendant , backpack, belt pouch, blanket APG, flint and steel, pot, soap, torch (10), trail rations
(5), waterskin, 31 gp
—————
Special Abilities
—————
Bestial Aspect (increased polymorphed damage) (Su) Increase dam of nat attack granted by
polymorph spell.
Blood Casting (Su) Cast bloodrager spells while in bloodrage.
Bloodrage (18 rounds/day) (Su) +4 Str, +4 Con, +2 to Will saves, -2 to AC when enraged.
Draconic Resistance (Ex) Gain Fire resistance 1 and +5 natural armor.
Eschew Materials Cast spells without materials, if component cost is 1 gp or less.
Fast Movement +10 (Ex) +10 feet to speed, unless heavily loaded.
Magic Claws (Ex) 2 Magic Claw attacks deal 1d6 damage.
Power Attack -2/+4 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Uncanny Dodge (Ex) Retain Dex bonus to AC when flat-footed.
—————
There are traditions that span the test of time. When an empire rises and falls the traditions, live on. Be it
the prayers to your ancestors for guidance, to the consuming of your enemies flesh for strength. These
traditions will shape you, guide you, and make you into the man that the spirits wish you to be.


To go against tradition invites disaster, Not only upon you, but those you live with, those you love, those
you protect from harm. Honor your traditions. Or else.....

Elis lived by these words until the slavers came and took him away from his jungles of paradise. Where
he hunted, killed, and worshipped his families’ gods. To a land where the whip ruled and the will of a
master was not to be denied. From ship to ship he travelled until he found himself upon land once more.
In a land that did not know his tongue or his mannerisms, where his traditions were foreign to all. He was
lost to all but what the whip called for and the man that held it, who was to be called the master.
The master owned a boat, and he was to move it with his oar. To places unknown to him. He was placed
besides others that did not speak his tongue but they knew the will of the man with the whip. So
together, they moved the oar and slowly learned to communicate with one another. Soon Elis learned the
ways of other races, other people; he learned that there were in fact places outside of the master’s will
and the whip.

However, where his mind wandered his body stayed. Forever chained to the boat that he was to call
home, until the storms came. Wind, rain, and lightening clashed upon the vessel. One moment that rain
dripped through the deck, the next he saw the sky, the lightening, and then watery darkness. The taste of
salt water filled his mouth as he struggled to find breath. He trashed and pulled upon his chains till it
suddenly loosened and he became free. Rising to the surface he was greeted with a wave then
darkness.

He awoke upon the sands of an unknown shore. Bodies of his rowers, men that were at one time a
master, littered the area. He went from person to person taking what he could. Finding armor, weapons,
and other gear he ate what he found and rested. When he awoke he took a moment to pray, a tradition
long since denied to him by his masters. He wished to find a way back to his home, to make the men
that did this to him pay, and bring vengeance upon those that would continue this foul dealing of slavery.
So he swore and slept once more. In the morning, he made his way to a road and started to walk.
HIghport was the first sign he found, it was hear he would look for answers.

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Pathfinder® and associated marks and logos are trademarks of Paizo Inc.®, and are used under license.

[Dormouse]

Yrsa Gravedigger

Human Cleric or Warpriest of Pelor, NG

She walks tirelessly through field and forest, wades without complaint through swamps. Her armor catches the sunlight, throwing it into a million dazzling shards. Upon her arm is a shield, in her hand is a mace, and about her neck is the face-in-sun of Pelor. Others might claim to lead the fight against the evil of the Pomarj, but she is actually there, a permanent fixture in the front lines of battles and skirmishes.

Yet her concern is not for the living, but for the dead.

With each foray, she returns bearing the bones and belongings of those who perished during the aftermath of the Hateful Wars. These she turns over to other clerics, who will speak with the dead and ensure the deceased receive a proper burial, and will send word to their descendants if they can. It is unclear what redemption she seeks in laying these unfortunates to rest – she has yet to speak of it to anyone – but it must be something that cuts deeper than merely doing good or doing what is right. She is a light that walks amidst the long forgotten dead, but it is unclear why she has chosen to shine here, at the border of the Pomarj and Ulek.

She marches against evil humanoids and bandits alike, yet those who have fought beside her are surprised that she has chosen to accept the invitation to end the scourge of the slavelords. Why does she now fight for the living rather than the dead?

Yrsa is of average height, fair of hair and blue of eye, and she bears a scar across her left cheek that she declines to discuss. Cool and confident during battle and pleasant enough elsewhere, she brings sunlight with her wherever she walks.



I don't know much about Greyhawk other than it's one of the first D&D settings; and I couldn't turn down the chance to play in it. Character sheet will be forthcoming but I wanted to get my foot in the door. I'll be happy to provide further information about her background if needed.

[Chulanowa]

Sävel Tullerorimo
(Chaotic Good Elf Fighter 4)
Sheet

   Sävel is a young (by elvish reckoning) warrior hailing from the Duchy of Ulek. Though too young to have participated in the fighting, Sävel's pointed ears were filled with tales of the Hateful Wars that drove the orcs and other low beings from the Lortmils. The elf was at once horrified and fascinated; the prospect of the revered elders and glorious heroes waging all-out genocide was unsettling... but one had to admit the tales were glorious, and seemed to have some good cause. Resolved to find the truth, Sävel and a pair of human companions set out to the Pomarj to find the truth. Surely, the orcs could not be so bad?!
   Sävel returned alone and chastized. This mistake had cost the lives of two friends, and Sävel could not shake the notion that lack of ability was the deciding factor. The youngster set to training with the Duchy's militia, learning the way of bow and blade. Though far from grim or single-minded - Elves can rarely manage such states - Sävel went to the arts of war with great determination, and came out of training well-trained in archery and fencing alike.
   The time since has been spent largely in dalliances; Sävel found a fondness for horses and even dabbled in architecture, and apprenticed for a time under the armorsmiths of Tringlee. There have been moments of battle, mostly from excursions to the southeast, providing guardianship for some expedition or other. Sävel has learned the finer points of slaying orcs, and not being slain in turn. Recent news of slave raids against Celene have drawn the warrior's concern, and the effort to stop those pirate raids was eagerly joined.

Appearance
   Even by standards of elves, Sävel is slight; the archer stands a mere five-foot three and couldn't weigh more than eight stone. Wild, pale-blonde hair streams back well past Sävel's shoulders, with a single braid reaching as far as mid-thigh. Feathers and living sprigs of ivy adorn shorter braids about the elf's fine-tipped ears. Sävel's almond eyes are a pale green, highlighting a fine-featured face with rose-tinged cheeks and full lips. Slender but too well-muscled to be "skinny," Sävel wears a simple breastplate to battle, along with trail clothing and a finely-crafted longbow of yew and horn.

Personality
   It's not that Sävel hates orcs. No, the warrior feels guilt over the murder of two friends years ago. The excursion was Sävel's fault, and by pushing the humanoids back from civilized lands, maybe fewer innocents will die to such foolishness. Despite the lingering guilt - both for the dead friends and even some from the enemies slain - Sävel manages to be upbeat and personable most of the time. For such a small creature, the archer is able to put away a good amount of wine, and enjoys a good dance and song as much as anyone. Sävel has a secret romantic side, and enjoys ballads, chivalrous tales, and being courted - and courting in turn. Of course, the elvish temperament towards love is rather different than the stuffiness of humans, so there are a few scandalized minor nobles in Sävel's past. Sävel is not strongly religious, but considers Ehlonna to be as worthy of reverence as the Elven Pantheon

[Bibliophilia]

Updated Jess with a second image, not the same one on her sheet, and added her history and personality.

[Latooni Subota]

. . . 576? YOU MEAN THE BIG RED DEATH SPREAD?! One Plague Doctor-style alchemist coming right up!

Eowyn Mithmeril
Neutral Good, Alchemist
Age 35, Half-Elf

History: Eowyn Mithmeril is a young (relatively speaking) half-elven woman hailing from a small village on the edge of the Welkwook, just a stone's throw away from the Jewel River in Celene. The daughter of a local (human) hunter and a priestess of Ehlonna, her family is large and prolific, with a great many children possessing all manner of elven and human traits. Eowyn, despite actually being the oldest of the TWELVE children, is actually the one with the most human-like traits . . not that anyone can tell much more than the fact that she's absolutely TINY at a height of 5'2", and looks petite even when wrapped up in the heavy robes and leathers of her chosen profession: Plague Doctor.

Most people would probably insist on the term healer, or priestess, but those would be the uninformed and the uneducated. Rather than beseeching the divine for power, she grew up hearing about all the little tricks her father knew about what plants were medicinal and what were poisonous, and how to survive in the deeper areas of the Welkwood and Gnarley Forest. Eowyn latched onto this information and expanded on it, and even spent some time in Enstad and Greyhawk seeking higher learning and instruction in the sciences, with the occasional trip back along the Jewel River to visit her family of course.

Eowyn threw herself headlong into alchemy and medicine, and proved to be a bit of a dab hand at it. She even managed to make a little money on the side crafting hangover cures for pub-goers, and antivenoms for adventurers. It was only a year ago, just after the invasion of minotaurs into the Free City of Greyhawk (Apparently Minotaurs are just as susceptable to poison and explosives as anything else) that Eowyn began to hear rumors of an unusual rise in sickness in the countryside and some cities. By now a bit of a fledgeling adventurer herself (And a damn fine doctor, thank you very much), Eowyn has begin to travel across the countryside attaching herself to various adventuring groups to investigate matters. Her first destination? Down the Wild Coast and into the Pomarj . . .

Personality: Eowyn is a bit of an odd girl, to be perfectly honest. While her plague doctor garb can be unnerving on it's own, she has a habit of tilting her head and staring at people while she tries to figure them out. Her meekness and habit of overthinking things means this happens a lot, and more than a few possibly friends have left her by the wayside for being a weird creeper. She really is a good person though. She's devoted her life to healing and protection, and doing so in a way that the commonfolk can afford. She's always been a bit miffed by the habits of spellcasters to charge huge amounts of coin for their services, and being a charitable soul, is more than willing to put herself into the red if it means helping the struggling common masses. Nobody should mistake her meekness for pacifism though, as she's inherited her father's skill with the longbow (though not his muscles to use a bow with a good draw), and has no problems with 'educating' criminals with the power of alchemy. Bandits tend to think twice about hurting innocents when they're bound in sticky glue and on fire after all! She's a definate 'team player', if only people could learn to not focus on her odd mannerisms and garb long enough to let her show it!

Crunch will come after questions are answered! Consider Eowyn a medic and fire support for the most part though. (And mook-sweeper . . .)

[Latooni Subota]

Double-post! While I'm finishing up the crunch side of this, I have to ask the obligatory question all alchemists and rogues should ask: Can I use Quick Draw, Efficient Quiver, or the weird magical bandoliers (or mundane) ones to speed up drawing alchemic items at all? Even if it's as simple as "It's in a bandolier so your 'apply alchemy crap as a move action' shtick includes the drawing of the alchemic item"? No huge deal if not, just determines whether or not I stick with throwing junk by hand, using weird arrows, or a launcher crossbow. >.>

Edit: Also, are we using Pathfinder languages? The neat Grayhawk specific languages?

[Grizzly]

Here is what I've come up with.

Corso Fell Raza
CG, Elven Bladebound Magus

History:
Corso Fell Raza has a history of learning things the hard way.  The 13th scion of Elven Wizards, Corso was practically ignored by his parents growing up.  The family was well off, with many of the children taking high positions in society, so Corso had want for little.  Of course, he also lacked any serious direction in his life beyond drinking and wenching and his families wealth meant that he did not have to seek out any fortune that lay beyond the town walls.  Despite this misspent youth, Corso yearned for adventure and to see the world.  He just had to see his way out of the taverns first.

After an embarrassing incident involving a young lady, it was decided that Corso would follow in the family tradition and learn the mystical arts.  At first Corso went along with this, as it was something different, but he quickly chafed under the harsh instructors.  He understood the magical theories well enough and had some talent in spell casting but he found the pace too slow.  Growing bored with his studies, Corso found himself a member of a band of rowdies thrill seekers who decided to seek fame through adventuring. 

This adventuring party met with disaster.  With more deluded desire and confidence and little experience, the party unheroically broke ranks and ran away after losing two of their members.  Corso, in his flight, ended up tumbling down into a hole that he had not seen.  When he regained consciousness, the Elf found himself in an old roughly made tomb.  Time had worn away any reminders of who lay buried there and the remains might have yielded some clues but Corso found his attention captured by a blade resting in a place of honour.  Enthralled by the sight, Corso picked up the blade and found it surprisingly comforting in his hand.  The wind had been making some odd sounds but Corso cared little.  Holding the sword up in the sunlight, he knew that it symbolized a new direction for him.  And screw those cowards who had run away.

Corso devoted his time to learning the art of the sword and how to blend in his meagre magics into a semblance of a fighting form.  After a time, he set out once more in search of adventure and, with a couple of more experienced parties, had some measure of success.  Recently he has started to wonder about the origin of the sword that he had found.  He could almost swear that the blade is trying to talk to him, but of course that could not be possible.  Still...

Personality:
Corso can be a little rough around the edges.  He enjoys a good tavern and it's wares and has soft spot for the ladies.  Not very comfortable on his own, Corso prefers the company of others, seeking out adventuring parties or caravans that he can travel with.  Oddly enough, it's when he is alone that he swears that he can hear voices, and discovering that he might be crazy is not high on his list of priorities.  He also hides this from others, as having other people think that you're crazy is never good for ones social life.  Corso is friendly enough, quick to smile and quip, but still makes the occasional social faux pas and has the scars to show from it.  He has grown rather protective of party members after his initially disaster quest.   

[National Acrobat]

Wow a lot of great applications. Closing recruitment at midnight tonight est and will spend a few days mulling over choices.

[Silver Phoenix]

Good grief, posting up at the last minute!  Wasn't my intention, but several things came up beyond my control.

THARIN ALGONDAR (W.I.P. Mainly equipment)
Class: Bard (Arcane Duelist)
Race: Male Half-elf
Age: 23; Height: 5' 9"

Personality: Amiable and friendly, Tharin does his best to leave a good first impression on others.  Shaped by his personal dreams of heroics and his early encounter with bandits, he has a healthy dislike of oppressors and anyone who would do things at the expense of others.  He values personal independence and doing the 'right' things.  If possible, he likes to use his abilities to the benefit of others.

Background: Tharin didn't begin to an exceptional start; the son of two one time would-be adventurer's who had a close call and decided to settle down instead.  Their first-born, he was subjected to stories of their early adventures when his father was bragging in the local tavern or bedtime stories from his mother, leaving Tharin to grow up with these ideas firmly in mind, much to their chagrin as he grew up to be less interested in farm work and more in hitting dummies with sticks and venturing into the nearby woods.  That said, they learned much about bringing up a child from Tharin and the next two were proper farm lads and girls.  As a consequence Tharin became isolated in his own community, which only further encouraged him to into the stories that kept him separate.  When real adventurer's saved a nearby community from goblins, Tharin became convinced that this was the path for him.

This was about the start of Tharin's education into the realities of adventuring that his parent's learned early.  Barely out on the road and he was robbed by brigands and left with a bruised scalp and lying bloody on the dirt.  A passing group of Atloi found him and nursed him back to health, but since it was several days before he regained consciousness, he was far from home by the time he awoke - even so, he was too disillusioned by this turn of events to want to return home.  Yet he managed to find a place in the colouful gypsy group who lived large and flamboyantly; Tharin soon rediscovered his zest for life and turned his passion for stories and heroics into a form of art and magic, learning at the feet of some of the band's best bards, though he never gave up on his dream of being a master swordsman as he often imagined himself as young boy.

[firepyre]

Gak. Was planning on submitting a frontliner concept after work.

Ahh well, guess I'll just have to cross my fingers that I make the cut in Chula's game.

[Andi]

In before deadline...

Tharalf

class: Barbarian (Mad Dog)
Race / Sex: Human Male
Age: Unknown, appears to be around 25
Height: : 5'10

Berserker. Dervish. He is consumed by battle rage. Bloodrager. Tharalf has been called all of those things, probably more, in his lifetime, perhaps even deservedly. Loner, traveller and mercenary, he and his companion hawk Sulnr have been travelling the Flanaess for the past few years, seeking work, adventure and excitement.

Tharalf pretends to be a mercenary well. One of his first questions generally is, 'what is in this for me?', and he expects any deals he agrees to to be upheld - by both sides. Were someone to take a closer look at how he selects his employers, though, one might discover a somewhat unusual pattern: Tharalf is perfectly willing to break even, and sometimes even accept a loss, if he is convinced the job he is offered is 'the right thing to do.' He possesses a strong moral compass, and is rarely dissuaded from at least attempting to leave the world a better place when he is done than before he started.

Personality: Tharalf is abrasive, short, and often sharp, caring little for the finer points of etiquette or polite society. He is also an incorrigible flirt, and despite his often crude approach to the matter, surprisingly successful. While he is both willing and able to put up with bivouacking for extended periods, Tharalf has definitely developed a soft spot for warm quarters, soft beds and regular meals if he can get them.

Sheet

Tharalf
Human barbarian (unchained, mad dog) 4 (Pathfinder Player Companion: Animal Archive, Pathfinder Unchained 8)
CG Medium humanoid (human)
Init +1; Senses Perception +10
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 16, touch 12, flat-footed 14 (+4 armor, +1 Dex, +1 dodge)
hp 40 (4d12+8)
Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +4; +3 competence bonus vs. spells and spell-like abilities while raging but must resist all spells, even allies', +2 trait bonus vs. fear
Defensive Abilities danger sense +1
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 40 ft. (30 ft. in armor)
Melee +1 greatsword +6 (2d6+2/19-20)
Special Attacks rage (6 rounds/day), rage power (superstition +3)
--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 12, Dex 13, Con 15, Int 13, Wis 13, Cha 14
Base Atk +4; CMB +5; CMD 17
Feats Alertness, Dodge, Iron Will
Traits charming, courageous
Skills Acrobatics +5, Bluff +2 (+3 vs. characters who could be attracted to you), Climb +5, Diplomacy +2 (+3 vs. characters who could be attracted to you), Handle Animal +9, Knowledge (nature) +8, Perception +10, Sense Motive +3, Survival +8, Swim +5
Languages Common
SQ fast movement, pack tactics
Other Gear +1 studded leather, +1 greatsword, handy haversack, backpack, belt pouch, blanket[APG], flint and steel, hemp rope (50 ft.), pot, soap, torch (10), trail rations (5), waterskin, 466 gp
--------------------
Special Abilities
--------------------
Animal Companion Link (Ex) Handle or push Animal Companion faster, +4 to checks vs. them.
Danger Sense +1 (Ex) +1 bonus on reflex saves and AC against traps.
Fast Movement +10 (Ex) +10 feet to speed, unless heavily loaded.
Pack Tactics (Ex) Both master and war beast gain +4 when flanking with each other.
Rage (Unchained, 6 rounds/day) (Ex) As a free action, gain temp hp, bonus to melee att/dam, thrown dam, will saves, but AC penalty and limited actions. 1 min fatigue when ended.
Superstition +3 (Ex) While raging, gain bonus to save vs. spells, but must resist all spells even allies'.

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Sulnr
Hawk
N Small animal
Init +3; Senses low-light vision; Perception +9
--------------------
Defense
--------------------
AC 18, touch 15, flat-footed 14 (+3 Dex, +1 dodge, +3 natural, +1 size)
hp 26 (4d8+8)
Fort +6, Ref +7, Will +3
Defensive Abilities evasion
--------------------
Offense
--------------------
Speed 10 ft., fly 80 ft. (average)
Melee bite +7 (1d4+2), 2 talons +7 (1d4+2)
--------------------
Statistics
--------------------
Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 2, Wis 14, Cha 6
Base Atk +3; CMB +4; CMD 18
Feats Dodge, Weapon Finesse
Tricks Attack, Attack, Attack Any Target, Bombard, Deliver, Down, Fighting, Guard, Hunt, Stay
Skills Acrobatics +3 (-5 to jump), Fly +5, Perception +9
SQ attack any target, bombard, deliver, fighting, guard, hunt
--------------------
Special Abilities
--------------------
Attack Any Target [Trick] The animal will attack any creature on command.
Bombard [Trick] Drops item on designated point or opponent.
Deliver [Trick] Delivers item to indicated point or person.
Evasion (Ex) No damage on successful reflex save.
Fighting [Trick] The animal has been trained to fight.
Fly (80 feet, Average) You can fly!
Guard [Trick] The animal stays in place and prevents others from approaching.
Hunt [Trick] Hunts or forages for food to bring to handler.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail.

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[National Acrobat]

Alrighty good folks, Wednesday or Thursday, I should have my decisions made. Thanks to everyone who expressed interest.

[National Acrobat]

I have made my selections and updated the first post in this thread. Thanks to everyone who showed interest for making me have to think really hard about who to select.

[National Acrobat]

I've had someone decide to not play, so I have updated the accepted list with a change.