This is a level 6 pathfinder game set in the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting. As Zaranda, I cordially invite you to join my adventure.
Note. I wish only for characters who have truly done deeds of heroism and compassion that have drawn Queen Zaranda's attention. Thus, only good alignments will be considered for this story.
I prefer to avoid third party pathfinder material save for Psionics from Dreamscarred Press--not Path of War, only psionics. I will, however, consider and even offer home brewed materials specifically for the purpose of suiting Pathfinder better to the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting.
Attributes will be 30 point buy.
Background skill rules are in use.
Hit points beyond first level will be (1/2 dice type +2).
Traits are also in use, and a drawback for a third trait is welcome.
* * *
Some lore:
Tethyr: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Tethyr
In the Forgotten Realms, Common is a trade pidgin. Every character's automatic languages include the language spoken by humans in the region nearest to where they grew up. In Tethyr--as in much of Faerun north of the Sea of Fallen Stars--that language is Chondathan.
Note. I wish only for characters who have truly done deeds of heroism and compassion that have drawn Queen Zaranda's attention. Thus, only good alignments will be considered for this story.
I prefer to avoid third party pathfinder material save for Psionics from Dreamscarred Press--not Path of War, only psionics. I will, however, consider and even offer home brewed materials specifically for the purpose of suiting Pathfinder better to the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting.
Attributes will be 30 point buy.
Background skill rules are in use.
Hit points beyond first level will be (1/2 dice type +2).
Traits are also in use, and a drawback for a third trait is welcome.
* * *
Some lore:
Tethyr: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Tethyr
In the Forgotten Realms, Common is a trade pidgin. Every character's automatic languages include the language spoken by humans in the region nearest to where they grew up. In Tethyr--as in much of Faerun north of the Sea of Fallen Stars--that language is Chondathan.
Orsandra Inistha, Goldeneye
The circumstances of one's life are not always dictated by their birth; the vagaries of fate and chance often have other plans, steering one away from the course their parents would have seen them take. Melaiya Inistha was a renowned warrior and Cleric of Torm, who despite her many suitors, found none who suited her well enough to take as a companion. It was said by many that no mortal man would be enough to earn her love, and her eventual romance gave truth to the rumor. Melaiya, through her worship, became familiar with a lesser Angel dedicant of Torm, and in time, her prayers were answered: Though he could not remain with her, without becoming himself a mortal man, they were given sanction to procreate, ensuring that the Inistha line would continue.
She gave birth to twins, male Jaerand, and female Orsandra. When the twins had reached eleven years of age, Melaiya departed, leaving them in the care of the lords of Elturel, to partake in their great Ride, their assault upon a demonic Gate to Avernus, led by the Angel, Zariel. Upon their disastrous return, led by the new High Rider, Jander, the survivors of the assault, the newly-minted Hellriders, began their solemn watch over Elturel and the surrounding lands. Maleiya, however, returned a bitter and angry woman, troubled by the things she had witnessed beyond the Gate, though she spoke to no one of what had been seen and done therein. This bitterness drove a wedge between Maleiya and her daughter; while Jaerand was content to follow his mother’s dictates, Orsandra desired to become one of the Hellriders against her wishes, seeing them with all the starry-eyed glory that an eleven-year-old could muster, knowing nothing of the darkness that haunted her still. Driven by her desire to join their ranks, some of her mother’s compatriots became her surrogate parents; a present and welcoming replacement to a distant mother and a father she only knew from stories. In a scant few years, however, she was to learn why she had been forbidden to join the Hellriders, and kept cloistered away by her mother.
As with many of Faerun's people, if you delve far enough into their history, you are likely to find certain dark secrets: intercessions, unnatural breedings, deals with the Divine or unholy; the Inistha line was one such. Originally borne by people of little consequence and little influence, but great power and ambition, in the 1100's one of them managed to strike a pact with a Gold Dragon, Tamarand, who later became close companion to the King of Justice, that he would invest their family line with great power, and aid them in acquiring influence, in exchange for a promise of service. For nearly two centuries, this pact was kept, each scion of the family swearing their loyalty to the dragon himself, their actions in the world aided by and aiding their secret pact with him. This was a secret passed down within the family line; at first a point of pride, and later one of shame, as if they had not 'earned' their place, but instead had it given to them. What finally and fully buried this secret, however, was when Melaiya's ancestors' parents were slain while they were yet in their youth, and had not been inducted into the family's secret pact.
This secret would remain buried for another century, as the family continued to rise in prominence, eventually culminating in Melaiya answering the call to arms, and joining with the city guard of Elturel to repel a demonic invasion; the event which led to the proper founding of the Hellriders, and their first great act of fame.
Nearly two decades had passed since then, and a divide had grown between the two children; for reasons she did not understand, while her brother was pushed forth as the 'future High Rider', and given all the privileges and accolades of it, Orsandra herself was not permitted to join the Hellriders in name, accompanying their patrols on many missions, but without being allowed to take on the roles and responsibilities that would be expected of her. It was, in public, stated as her mother's desire for her 'ambitions not to be limited by her birth', but those close to them knew the truth.
The truth that Orsandra's blood was impure.
It began with dreams of vast golden wings that would block out the sun, and golden scales so lustrous as to make the sunlight seem pale; recurring dreams that held the dusty weight of old prophecy. Dreams of an old debt, unpaid. Dreams where she would see lines of her ancestors, stretching away to the horizons, murmuring an endless cacophony, unintelligible, pleading, though their meaning escaped her. Unlike her gregarious brother, she became cold, and withdrawn, her flat golden eyes and bronzed flesh the only deviation from her mother’s own icy persona. Unlike her mother, however, she possessed an intense force of will, a presence greater than her mere flesh could account for, one which, despite her beauty, kept her entirely isolated from petty romances.
As she reached her late teenage years, she became aware of a growing difference between herself and her brother. While his skin became the sun-kissed shade of a healthy tan, his eyes pale gold and luminous, her flesh darkened to a ruddy bronze, and her eyes took on an unmistakable vertical slit pupil. If this weren’t proof enough of her muddled ancestry, a light dusting of scales began to spread over her flesh, covering the backs of her forearms, and spreading down her back and shoulders like a fine, golden cloak. Much of this could still be concealed from casual inspection, and Orsandra was driven to cover herself by her mother’s command, her face veiled to disguise her changing eyes; vigilance and care served to disguise her for another handful of years.
The passage of nearly two decades had done little to close the distance between mother and daughter, her changing appearance and her mother’s shame a gulf too wide to cross. When her powers - clearly not of Divine provenance, but instead of Draconic blood - became too obvious to deny, her mother made it clear that she was to remain hidden, secreted away, a living mark of shame that she would not countenance. Railing against this, Orsandra chose instead to set out on her own, abandoning the home, land, and people she had known. She had gotten word of the first stirrings of the Shining Crusade to the north, two weeks’ swift travel away. She departed with little fanfare, determined to, as her mother had before her, descend into Avernus, hoping to emerge from it with her mother’s respect.
Instead, she became part of something at once glorious and foul, pure and tainted; a cause into which she threw her full support and focus, taking on the dispatch of their foes with all the force and will that she could not grant the Hellriders, closing her mind against the fact that the foes they fought were not yet demons, but all too mortal; those who stood in the way of the beginning of the Crusade, towns and villages conquered to provide all the fuel that an army descending into the barren hellscape of Avernus could require. A handful of months later, Dragonspear Wars had finally come full circle, back to the gates of that same castle, she stood vigilant and prepared to face death. Along with hundreds of other veterans of the Crusade’s outward push, Orsandra manned the walls of Castle Dragonspear, and confronted the Coalition’s army in battle after battle, retreating further into the Keep ahead of the tide of soldiers.
It was there, in the last bastions of resistance, that they learned of their leader’s true cause – her selfishness, her greed, her absolute willingness to sacrifice anything for the chance to return her uncle to life – and the way she had been misled. Even as the gate to Avernus opened, torn asunder by the traitor-priest, Orsandra knew that the cause itself had always been her true master, and felt that the Shining Lady’s weakness, her lack of devotion to her duty, had been the reason she faltered. It was not the Cause that was flawed, but those who followed it. Despite the many wounds she had sustained during the battle for the Castle itself, she rallied with her a handful of the last defenders, and made for the Gate, hoping to join the long-awaited charge into Avernus; however, they were too late, as the heroes of the Coalition had gone within, and the Gate closed up behind them.
While not mortal, her wounds were severe and lingering; worst among them was a grievous slash which had torn her nearly from shoulder to hip, and healed only reluctantly. Through her recovery, she continued to work, fighting to help re-tame the war-torn Western Heartlands, seeking to atone for the terrible acts in which she had taken part. It was during this time that she first felt, deeply and personally, a connection to Helm, the God she had worshipped all her youth; his Touch grew through the lessons and training of her youth, empowering her to continue the fight against the bandits and vile creatures which had preyed upon the land in the wake of the conflict, giving her the strength to continue fighting despite the agony of her scar. Her fury and valor, and striking countenance, earned her the moniker 'Goldeneye,' and renown as a virtuous and devoted guardian. It was only when the wound finally healed fully that she gained the certainty that Helm had granted her Atonement, the wound and its’ pain a physical totem for the wounds inflicted upon her soul; with the return of Helm’s power, both wounds were healed at last, and she began her journey home.
Perhaps the greatest reward that her crusade – and years of penance – gave her was the realization that the taint of dragon’s blood would forever bar her mother’s affections, though her great acts won her, at last, her mother’s respect. It was with her blessing, and an escort of one of her mother’s longtime companions, a Hellrider by the name of Alric, that she departed southward for Tethyr, seeking to join the Champions Vigilant; fortuitously, on the eve of her departure, came an invitation from Tethyr’s new queen, promising adventure and glory, calling upon those who sought to do good and great deeds within the wider world.
The only remnants of the Crusade she carries with her are the silvery scar across her torso, and a signet ring upon a necklace, carefully tucked beneath her robes; a weathered silver signet of the Shining Crusade.
The circumstances of one's life are not always dictated by their birth; the vagaries of fate and chance often have other plans, steering one away from the course their parents would have seen them take. Melaiya Inistha was a renowned warrior and Cleric of Torm, who despite her many suitors, found none who suited her well enough to take as a companion. It was said by many that no mortal man would be enough to earn her love, and her eventual romance gave truth to the rumor. Melaiya, through her worship, became familiar with a lesser Angel dedicant of Torm, and in time, her prayers were answered: Though he could not remain with her, without becoming himself a mortal man, they were given sanction to procreate, ensuring that the Inistha line would continue.
She gave birth to twins, male Jaerand, and female Orsandra. When the twins had reached eleven years of age, Melaiya departed, leaving them in the care of the lords of Elturel, to partake in their great Ride, their assault upon a demonic Gate to Avernus, led by the Angel, Zariel. Upon their disastrous return, led by the new High Rider, Jander, the survivors of the assault, the newly-minted Hellriders, began their solemn watch over Elturel and the surrounding lands. Maleiya, however, returned a bitter and angry woman, troubled by the things she had witnessed beyond the Gate, though she spoke to no one of what had been seen and done therein. This bitterness drove a wedge between Maleiya and her daughter; while Jaerand was content to follow his mother’s dictates, Orsandra desired to become one of the Hellriders against her wishes, seeing them with all the starry-eyed glory that an eleven-year-old could muster, knowing nothing of the darkness that haunted her still. Driven by her desire to join their ranks, some of her mother’s compatriots became her surrogate parents; a present and welcoming replacement to a distant mother and a father she only knew from stories. In a scant few years, however, she was to learn why she had been forbidden to join the Hellriders, and kept cloistered away by her mother.
As with many of Faerun's people, if you delve far enough into their history, you are likely to find certain dark secrets: intercessions, unnatural breedings, deals with the Divine or unholy; the Inistha line was one such. Originally borne by people of little consequence and little influence, but great power and ambition, in the 1100's one of them managed to strike a pact with a Gold Dragon, Tamarand, who later became close companion to the King of Justice, that he would invest their family line with great power, and aid them in acquiring influence, in exchange for a promise of service. For nearly two centuries, this pact was kept, each scion of the family swearing their loyalty to the dragon himself, their actions in the world aided by and aiding their secret pact with him. This was a secret passed down within the family line; at first a point of pride, and later one of shame, as if they had not 'earned' their place, but instead had it given to them. What finally and fully buried this secret, however, was when Melaiya's ancestors' parents were slain while they were yet in their youth, and had not been inducted into the family's secret pact.
This secret would remain buried for another century, as the family continued to rise in prominence, eventually culminating in Melaiya answering the call to arms, and joining with the city guard of Elturel to repel a demonic invasion; the event which led to the proper founding of the Hellriders, and their first great act of fame.
Nearly two decades had passed since then, and a divide had grown between the two children; for reasons she did not understand, while her brother was pushed forth as the 'future High Rider', and given all the privileges and accolades of it, Orsandra herself was not permitted to join the Hellriders in name, accompanying their patrols on many missions, but without being allowed to take on the roles and responsibilities that would be expected of her. It was, in public, stated as her mother's desire for her 'ambitions not to be limited by her birth', but those close to them knew the truth.
The truth that Orsandra's blood was impure.
It began with dreams of vast golden wings that would block out the sun, and golden scales so lustrous as to make the sunlight seem pale; recurring dreams that held the dusty weight of old prophecy. Dreams of an old debt, unpaid. Dreams where she would see lines of her ancestors, stretching away to the horizons, murmuring an endless cacophony, unintelligible, pleading, though their meaning escaped her. Unlike her gregarious brother, she became cold, and withdrawn, her flat golden eyes and bronzed flesh the only deviation from her mother’s own icy persona. Unlike her mother, however, she possessed an intense force of will, a presence greater than her mere flesh could account for, one which, despite her beauty, kept her entirely isolated from petty romances.
As she reached her late teenage years, she became aware of a growing difference between herself and her brother. While his skin became the sun-kissed shade of a healthy tan, his eyes pale gold and luminous, her flesh darkened to a ruddy bronze, and her eyes took on an unmistakable vertical slit pupil. If this weren’t proof enough of her muddled ancestry, a light dusting of scales began to spread over her flesh, covering the backs of her forearms, and spreading down her back and shoulders like a fine, golden cloak. Much of this could still be concealed from casual inspection, and Orsandra was driven to cover herself by her mother’s command, her face veiled to disguise her changing eyes; vigilance and care served to disguise her for another handful of years.
The passage of nearly two decades had done little to close the distance between mother and daughter, her changing appearance and her mother’s shame a gulf too wide to cross. When her powers - clearly not of Divine provenance, but instead of Draconic blood - became too obvious to deny, her mother made it clear that she was to remain hidden, secreted away, a living mark of shame that she would not countenance. Railing against this, Orsandra chose instead to set out on her own, abandoning the home, land, and people she had known. She had gotten word of the first stirrings of the Shining Crusade to the north, two weeks’ swift travel away. She departed with little fanfare, determined to, as her mother had before her, descend into Avernus, hoping to emerge from it with her mother’s respect.
Instead, she became part of something at once glorious and foul, pure and tainted; a cause into which she threw her full support and focus, taking on the dispatch of their foes with all the force and will that she could not grant the Hellriders, closing her mind against the fact that the foes they fought were not yet demons, but all too mortal; those who stood in the way of the beginning of the Crusade, towns and villages conquered to provide all the fuel that an army descending into the barren hellscape of Avernus could require. A handful of months later, Dragonspear Wars had finally come full circle, back to the gates of that same castle, she stood vigilant and prepared to face death. Along with hundreds of other veterans of the Crusade’s outward push, Orsandra manned the walls of Castle Dragonspear, and confronted the Coalition’s army in battle after battle, retreating further into the Keep ahead of the tide of soldiers.
It was there, in the last bastions of resistance, that they learned of their leader’s true cause – her selfishness, her greed, her absolute willingness to sacrifice anything for the chance to return her uncle to life – and the way she had been misled. Even as the gate to Avernus opened, torn asunder by the traitor-priest, Orsandra knew that the cause itself had always been her true master, and felt that the Shining Lady’s weakness, her lack of devotion to her duty, had been the reason she faltered. It was not the Cause that was flawed, but those who followed it. Despite the many wounds she had sustained during the battle for the Castle itself, she rallied with her a handful of the last defenders, and made for the Gate, hoping to join the long-awaited charge into Avernus; however, they were too late, as the heroes of the Coalition had gone within, and the Gate closed up behind them.
While not mortal, her wounds were severe and lingering; worst among them was a grievous slash which had torn her nearly from shoulder to hip, and healed only reluctantly. Through her recovery, she continued to work, fighting to help re-tame the war-torn Western Heartlands, seeking to atone for the terrible acts in which she had taken part. It was during this time that she first felt, deeply and personally, a connection to Helm, the God she had worshipped all her youth; his Touch grew through the lessons and training of her youth, empowering her to continue the fight against the bandits and vile creatures which had preyed upon the land in the wake of the conflict, giving her the strength to continue fighting despite the agony of her scar. Her fury and valor, and striking countenance, earned her the moniker 'Goldeneye,' and renown as a virtuous and devoted guardian. It was only when the wound finally healed fully that she gained the certainty that Helm had granted her Atonement, the wound and its’ pain a physical totem for the wounds inflicted upon her soul; with the return of Helm’s power, both wounds were healed at last, and she began her journey home.
Perhaps the greatest reward that her crusade – and years of penance – gave her was the realization that the taint of dragon’s blood would forever bar her mother’s affections, though her great acts won her, at last, her mother’s respect. It was with her blessing, and an escort of one of her mother’s longtime companions, a Hellrider by the name of Alric, that she departed southward for Tethyr, seeking to join the Champions Vigilant; fortuitously, on the eve of her departure, came an invitation from Tethyr’s new queen, promising adventure and glory, calling upon those who sought to do good and great deeds within the wider world.
The only remnants of the Crusade she carries with her are the silvery scar across her torso, and a signet ring upon a necklace, carefully tucked beneath her robes; a weathered silver signet of the Shining Crusade.
https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2408847
Evelyn. Cutesy Tsundere Sylph Arcanist from the Elflands
Evelyn. Cutesy Tsundere Sylph Arcanist from the Elflands
Sir Serpentius
Knight Class Reference
Having bested some of the greatest knights of his time in tournaments, rode to the drums of war on numerous occasions, and even broke a few sieges with the company of others, Sir Serpentius was steadily acquiring fame among the knightly world. Many had heard of his exaggerated tales of excellence and in each telling, the tales grew larger and grander. One adventuring group requested his help in securing a holy artifact from a dangerous and evil dragon, having heard of Sir Serpentius and his many deeds. They fought past an army of kobolds, climbed the tallest mountain while being attacked by winged devils, and plundered the tombs of evil for the forces of good.
Or so Sir Serpentius had thought.
His adventuring partners had stolen and robbed from a temple of the gods and their servants were demanding repayment, shocked that the great Sir Serpentius had aided these villains. Sir Serpentius answered their call in equal outrage, but also with grace. He traveled far to the nearest temple of the slighted god and demanded that the god forgive those who know no better, those who live vile lives will do so as beasts as well as men. He pleaded with the god at their altar, that he be the one who is punished. For he is just and will remain just, harboring the god's curse without complaint.
And so he became a beast. The other knights ridiculed him and the name Sir Slobberjaw became wildly known. As a beast, Sir Serpentius always hungered, constantly drooled, and yet still strived to be righteous. He answered the call of Queen Zaranda, traveling to her court to lend his gracious assistance to her land's troubles.
Knight Class Reference
Having bested some of the greatest knights of his time in tournaments, rode to the drums of war on numerous occasions, and even broke a few sieges with the company of others, Sir Serpentius was steadily acquiring fame among the knightly world. Many had heard of his exaggerated tales of excellence and in each telling, the tales grew larger and grander. One adventuring group requested his help in securing a holy artifact from a dangerous and evil dragon, having heard of Sir Serpentius and his many deeds. They fought past an army of kobolds, climbed the tallest mountain while being attacked by winged devils, and plundered the tombs of evil for the forces of good.
Or so Sir Serpentius had thought.
His adventuring partners had stolen and robbed from a temple of the gods and their servants were demanding repayment, shocked that the great Sir Serpentius had aided these villains. Sir Serpentius answered their call in equal outrage, but also with grace. He traveled far to the nearest temple of the slighted god and demanded that the god forgive those who know no better, those who live vile lives will do so as beasts as well as men. He pleaded with the god at their altar, that he be the one who is punished. For he is just and will remain just, harboring the god's curse without complaint.
And so he became a beast. The other knights ridiculed him and the name Sir Slobberjaw became wildly known. As a beast, Sir Serpentius always hungered, constantly drooled, and yet still strived to be righteous. He answered the call of Queen Zaranda, traveling to her court to lend his gracious assistance to her land's troubles.
Clarissa Emberdance
--20 years old.
--Ginger
--Blue eyes that turn fiery orange when she calls upon her power.
--5'7" 135lbs
--Cheerful and friendly, but haunted by the dancing shadows of a scorched past.
--20 years old.
--Ginger
--Blue eyes that turn fiery orange when she calls upon her power.
--5'7" 135lbs
--Cheerful and friendly, but haunted by the dancing shadows of a scorched past.
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