Wayfinder Academy: Forward to Disaster

Status
Not open for further replies.
B

Boss Frost

Guest
Original poster
~In the City of Absalom~

​
Yet another busy day in Absalom. It'd be hard to imagine the city as anything but, and many believe if there is a lull day in the city, it can only mean the world is ending... or already has. You have your first day of school at the Wayfinder Academy... the first of it's kind, in fact. There has never, in the history of the world, been a school for adventurers. You can almost feel your dreams settle before you, ready to be reached out and grabbed.

There seems to be a slight problem, however. As you walk into the mauve building, you're stopped. A well-groomed human male steps forward, offering an apologetic look. "Hello, yes? Hello. Sorry about this, but it seems that a lot of the paperwork was lost yesterday. One of the professors-" He pauses, "Ended up blowing it all up with a fireball spell after getting annoyed." The man chuckles, a little embarrassed. He fidgets with the noble's clothes he wears: fine tailored silks and tasteful jewels. "So I'm going to have to ask you to fill this out? Really sorry." He bows his head, handing you a piece of paper and quill.

Well, at least filling out a piece of paper doesn't seem so bad. You look down at it... Only a single question? You realize that the more you look at the paper, more questions appear: it's three questions now. The man smiles a bit, "That's a identification notice. It's a magic piece of paper that records your status. You'll actually be keeping it, as soon as you write down those three questions, it'll tie itself to you. Easier than keeping all your files and progress in the rooms with us, and far less likely to encounter another fire-related mishap."

Identification Notice:
Name:
Gender:
Race:

To the Players:
Hi, this is Frost, the DM! All these italic things at the end will be the actual tutorial part of this game. Welcome to the game, by the way! Now, what I've always found making a Pathfinder character, is that the race choice is the most difficult... since the first thing that's really known about your character has ever been the race, gender, and the name given to you, that's what we start with. It's also normally what people first see. So that's what we're starting off with!
Now, since this is a tutorial game, you only have the standard races available: Dwarf, Elf, Gnome, Half-Elf, Half-Orc, Halfling, and Human. In other games, you might have more than this available. For added benefit, allow me to explain a bit about these races!
- Dwarves: Standard fantasy fare here. They're shorter than humans, and gruff in attitude. They're quite loyal, however, and very skilled at whatever they set out doing. Beards in males, sideburns in females. You should play a dwarf if being a tough, steady character appeals to you.
- Elves: Also standard fantasy fare. They're about a head taller than humans, and they're often seen as dismissive of the other, younger races. On a personal level, however, they can be good judges of character and make lifelong friends. You should play an elf if you enjoy being nobility, and have good senses.
- Gnomes: Fun-loving and adventurous cousins to the faerie races. They're the smallest race at three feet tall, with colorful hair, and live for excitement and 'new' things. You should play a gnome if you've got a sense of humor and a love of differences.
- Half-Elves: Thought to be a combination of the best traits of human and elf, the beautiful half-elf race is envied by both sides and ends up not really fitting in either society. You should play a half-elf if you enjoy being as skilled as a human, but want to be longer-lived.
- Half-Orcs: A combination of the worst traits of orc and human. Intimidating and unpleasant to look upon, many half-orcs don't get the chance to live outside of their appearance. Play a half-orc if you've been pushed around by society and are no longer willing to take it.
- Halfling: Also referred to as 'hobbits', these half-as-big-as-a-human men and women are optimistic and cheerful, blessed with good luck and quick fingers. You should play a halfling if you like to run fearlessly towards danger and have the luck to get out of it afterward.
- Human: Adaptable, prolific, and dangerous. The human race is the most likely one found in any given location, thanks to their ability to take on any role. They've been around to a good long time now, and not even the elves remember their origin. Play a human if you like having your options open.
 
Glancing up from the paper she had just been handed, Celir gave the nervous man a smile.

"Will I be in danger of blowing up?" She asked, intending for the question to come across as a joke to relax the man. She figured she was nervous enough as it is and she didn't need anyone else's nerve's to add to her own. Reaching behind her, she dug into the bag at her side and pulled out a quill and bottle of ink before glancing around the room to find a place to fill out the identification notice she had just been handed. Her eyes settled on a small table to the right and she walked over to it. Setting down the small ink well, she unscrewed the lid and dipped her quill into the silver colored depths.

She set to work and filled the paperwork out as it came about. She wrote Celir Silverlyte Into the space of the name. At the next question she wrote female as she refrained from rolling her eyes at the question. The last of the three questions made her come to a pause however. She tried not to cringe as she quickly scribbled down Half-elf into the allotted space. She stood back up to her full height of six foot as she turned back towards the man in nobles clothes.

"So, I keep this paper? Or do I give it to you?" She asked again to clarify as she brushed warm brown colored bangs from her eyes to tuck behind her slightly pointed ear. Silver eyes studied the man as she resisted the urge to shuffle from foot to foot.
 
Smirking a bit at the well dressed Human, Ayala took the magical paper document into her hands along with the feathered quil.

"you dont have to appologize so much, although your story was quite interesting" she told the noble man as she walked off to find a flat surface to answer the questions. Off onto her right she saw a half elf, curious as she got Ayala walked near the girl but not to close as to be noticed and began to answer the questions on the sheet.

As she stared at the paper Ayala filled each question out as it appeared the first one being her name, Ayala Wolfsbane and then off to the second one and third Female, Elf. As she finished up she couldnt help but be amused with the half elf, she was fun to watch although she of course wouldnt let the girl know she was doin it. Ayala liked to watch and get information with out the knowledge of them being watched, that way there could be nothing to get in the way no fronts or masks just rawness.

Standing patiently with the paper in her hand she awaited the mans answer, even though she was pretty sure of the answer.
 
"Tie itself to me." The green-and-teal-haired gnome flipped the paper over, dreading that more questions might appear. "That's ridiculous." He stood his ground before the man with eyebrows furrowed, taking his time in reading the three words that were there. "I know these for myself already," he finally concluded. "Why do they need to be tied to me?" But there was some look about the man that seemed to say it would just be easier if he filled the form out without complaining too much even if it would take him a long time. The first time he had filled out the paperwork had been with his cousin's help, and the only reason that hadn't been fast was because his cousin had insisted that he do the writing himself. Well, now he was at least a little bit thankful for that. He wouldn't need anyone's help filling it out now before strangers. It'd be terrible to have to ask the man or even worse, the half-elf or the elf who had blazed through the questions already.

Name: Xavian
Gender: Gnome
Race: Male

There. Just as he was about to stand up and give it back, he drew back. "Er, sorry. I think I have ..." his words trailed off as he stared at his paper. Gender was the one he was supposed to answer male, wasn't it? Admittedly, he wasn't entirely certain that was right, either, but that seemed more right than what he had now. Just as carefully as he had written down his original letters, Xavian set about completely scratching out the wrong words. Only then did he realize he should have copied to answers to the appropriate line first. With a sigh, he set to once more shaping his letters.

Name: Xavian
Gender: Gnome Male
Race: Male Cnome

"I think that's it. Yes?"
 
Last edited:
A pair of supple leather boots clunked across the smooth floors of the Wayfinder Academy. Jade eyes glittered down at the nobleman as honeyed words passed through velvet lips and floated about the room.
"Perhaps you should think about getting a new professor."
A gloved hand, dainty yet purposefully reserved, took an Identification Notice. The tall woman smiled demurely and walked to a table near – but not too near – the others. Opening her embroidered satchel, she pulled out a beautiful feather plume and a well of dark blue ink. She carefully lettered in:

Mirella Aisne Treharne
Female
Elf

She dabbed it lightly with a silver ink-blotter and slipped it into her bag. Standing gracefully, she seemed almost to float back to the human. She tilted her head slightly, her long, dark red hair cascading across her shoulders, and enunciated a little too clearly.
"Are the classrooms still intact, or shall we be having class in the garden—"
Her brows furrowed, all too serious.
"—with the pests?"
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The nobleman chuckles in a disturbingly worried manner, "No, no. There should be no danger to any of you blowing up..." He leans in, "Though I should warn you, the profession was an evocation specialist before he was forced to retire from... the accident. That's war magic, if any of you aren't familiar with the term. He left the rest of the place intact, I think he just got annoyed with the paperwork because he doesn't have thumbs anymore." He wriggles a thumb at the lot of them. "You'll get to keep those notices. You'll fill them out as the day goes by, and they'll eventually be your record in the Pathfinder Society if you graduate." He nods, herding the students further into the building.

The man walks through, tilting his head at them. "You know, a lot of people become adventurers because they ran out of options in life. Since you'll be starting your lives as adventurers... well, starting your careers as adventurers," he corrects himself, nodding, "You'll actually have a lot more open to you. Travel, treasure, romance..." He pauses with a sigh: it's clear that the noble had wanted to be with the Pathfinder Society. For whatever reason, he won't be joining you all in the classroom. He turns at the door, holding it open for them. "Welcome."

The door opened... didn't seem to lead anywhere for a moment. The bright light coming from the room gave it the illusion of being a great, empty white space. However, the light dimmed a bit, revealing... less of a classroom as one might expect. A flight of wooden steps led down to a flat wooden floor. Only a single chair, sitting in front of a desk. There was no one in the chair at the moment. The rest of the room was significantly larger-appearing than it was for it's emptiness. The walls were lined with portraits: eleven in total. Each included a different individual and a symbol.

With the sound of padded feet on hard wood, a creature jumps onto the desk. A common housecat, sitting quite still and staring at them with a cool, judgmental air. Calico fur covered the creature, though what was of note was that it was wearing jewelry: silver and sapphire anklets upon it's front and hind legs and three earrings: two in the left ear, one in the right. The feline could have been a familiar, save for what it did next: "You must be my new students." A young male's voice could be heard as the cat moved it's mouth, "I am Professor Icarus Babar." He bows his head, "Welcome. Please, make yourself comfortable."

He jumps from the desk, looking to each of the portraits. "These men and women you see before you are what made this Academy possible. Not by buying or selling property, but by leaving notes and memoirs about their adventures. These are called Pathfinder Chronicles. Of note, the Society has based our curriculum on these hero and heroine's stories. You'll be choosing one to emulate." He feline smiles, "We'll get to that in a moment, though. Please, tell us about yourselves and why you're here. Knowing about your 'party members' is one of the best things to do if you hope to succeed. You'll even have another advantage over your Pathfinder brethren: you'll be able to plan out together, and perhaps work off of each other. Teamwork, after all, will keep you alive."
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Celir blinked as the brightness faded and the room came into view. She glanced over at the other three students for mere seconds before returning her gaze to the room and the now talking cat. Her head tilted lightly as she studied the feline professor with curiosity. It took her a moment for what Professor Babar said to sink in. She blinked again and glanced back at the other students. Her eyes darted between them and the professor as she waited for someone to speak up. As the silence stretched she decided she may as well go first. Immediately, the butterflies in her stomach seemed to grow.

She cleared her throat lightly and resisted the urge to lick her lips as she stepped up to the front of the small group. She inclined her head to Professor Babar. She once again pushed her bangs behind her ears.

"My name is Celir Silverlyte and I come from a small village to the north." Silver orbs glanced around again. Her eyes briefly met each individual's. "I'm here to learn," a small smile graced her lips "Why else would I be at a school?" She asked, again trying to appeal to humor. She thought quickly and tried not to bite her bottom lip. "I am twenty and my favorite color is burgundy." She finished in a hurry, not mentioning being a half-elf. Growing up in a human village had been hard at times because of her heritage. She quickly stepped back into the position she was in before speaking. Her eyes went to study the eleven pictures on the wall, wondering what each symbol stood for. Her eyes glanced back at the cat. Professor, why are you a cat? She thought the question, but did not ask it aloud. She didn't want to appear to rude, at least not to just appease her curiosity.
 
Xavian was staring intently at the portraits when the cat came in and started talking. It was only when someone else started talking that Xavian even realized what they were supposed to be doing. What were they doing? Oh no! She was looking at him. Why was she looking -- oh, she had moved on. Xavian let out a sigh of mental relief and only then did he have enough calm to reconsider what had been said. Oh, introductions. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite recall all of her name. Only that it ended in light or something. When she finished, he started.

"Hi," he said in that this-is-boring-but-necessary sort of voice, "I'm Xavian. I hail from just outside the city. It's possible you've stopped by the inn my cousins run if you come from the east. I'm here because I don't want to shoe horses, and seeing the world seems more fun. I can run fast for a gnome, but as you can see," he pointed at his legs, "my legs are short." And that should squash any short gnome jokes for now. "And I think that's it. Yes? Oh, wait. If you want to find me, look down and find my hair." He ruffled his own head of hair. There. That should stop any gnome jokes.
 
The only sign Mirella even noticed their professor was a slight twitch of the eyebrow.

Listening to Celir, her mind wandered to the portraits. Then, to the room in general. Rather empty; perhaps this was a training room.Or, more likely, the school staff had stripped the professor of his furniture so he wouldn't destroy it. Her first impression so far wasn't very good.

She looked down at the gnome. She'd have to be sure not to step on him.
No, really, she'd done that before. It wasn't pretty.

Suddenly, it was silent. Was it her turn, now? Oh dear…Well, she'd come this far already.
She tossed her hair, put a hand on her hip, and said with tenacity,"My name is Mirella Aisne Treharne. The only thing you must know is, I have emerged from the darkness of the past unscathed and shall not let ruin befall us." Determination glinted in her eye; they weren't going to get anything else out of her – not yet, anyways.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Late! He could see where some of the other students had gone in, that door that was closing. With a quick burst of speed and twirling with more grace than most people would think a Half-Orc was capable of, he twisted around the door and spun his way into the room and deftly wove his way around the noble looking man and the other students so he wouldn't knock them over as he tried expending his momentum in the safest way possible. He ended up bumping into a chair and leaning against a wall. "Whew" he straightened his clothes and gave the room a tusky grin and a thumbs up to show he was okay.

Quietly he walked back over to the nobleman, noting the papers he had. "Excuse me" his voice rumbled as he took one of the papers and quickly scribbled his information.

Name: Aurok
Gender: Male
Race: Half-Orc

Aurok smiled apologetically at the nobleman and went to stand by the other students. He found himself not entirely sure what he was supposed to be doing, then he remembered some one had been talking as he swooped in, so they were...he looked down at the paper with some of the information about himself on it. They were probably introducing themselves, he'd wait to see if that was indeed what they were doing
 
Sitting quietly, Zaigou placed the cards he had been shuffling back into his jacket and looked over the paper that he had been handed. It didn't seem to require much information which seemed odd to him, but he wasn't one to complain, he hated paperwork.

Name: Zaigou Masa Taida
Gender: Male
Race: Half-Elf

Looking up, the half-elf realised that nearly everyone had left while he had been lost in his thoughts, and his cards, and it appeared nobody had noticed him there. As such, nobody had informed him that they were leaving. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and joined the others, catching the end of the Gnome's speech.

Zaigou looked around at the others, searching for a face. It took him a moment, but eventually he found her. "Hey, Celir, d'I miss anything important?" He asked in a hushed tone, trying not to interrupt anyone. He and Celir were from the same village, and he'd known her since he was young. In fact, she was the reason he'd even shown up that day. She basically bombarded him with requests to come with her until he finally gave in. Even so, he still wasn't sure what he was doing there.
 
Watching curiously at the professor Ayala awaited her turn to introduce her self and once she was finish doing that she would ask the professor why is it hes a cat, no one else seemed to be asking the question that was probably all on there minds so she figured she would do it.
As the person before her just finished up she cleared her throat. "Hello im Ayala Wolfsbane and im a girl as you all can see," she gave a quick smirk before she continued on. "I'm an elf and I come from a small village from the south. the reason why I am here in this school is because im looking for an adventure or two." she then looked over at the professor as she finished introducing her self. "oh professor out of curiosity I was wondering why you are a cat and im sure a few others might be wondering the same thing." she fiddled with her fingers ever so slightly as she waited for a reply hoping he wouldn't get irritated thats all she needed was to ruin her chances at something new.
 
The feline professor smiles softly, "Well, I'm sure the rest of you will open up eventually... it also seems we have a late-comer!" He looks to Aurok, "Allow me to offer you a welcome as well. Though I do urge you to come on time in the future." There's a strange twinkle in Professor Babar's eyes that hinted at something awful lay on the horizon for those who were late. His tail twitches a bit, and he begins to walk around the room. "As I stated, you'll be following in the footsteps of one... or maybe more than one, of the heroes who offered their Chronicle to the Academy... far before they knew there would be an Academy at all, actually." He chuckles, "Allow me to introduce them to you."

Professor Babar padded over to the first picture. A musclebound woman with a gruff expression, dressed in very little and hefting a blade at least as big as she was, "This is Amiri. A tribal warrior from the far northern reaches: the Realms of the Mammoth Lords, in fact. She came to the Society to escape the bonds of tradition from her rather chauvinistic tribe. She was famed for using that massive sword in one hand: a trophy from when she was sent on a suicide mission against a tribe of frost giants by the tribe's elders. She fought with a sort of... berserker rage. The world had treated her poorly, and she gave as good as she got." He points to the symbol: that of a thick sword surrounded in red flames.
Barbarian: A primary melee class. Wears light or medium armor, and has a slightly faster movement speed than other classes. Has the power to enter a 'Rage' state, increasing their damage and hit points at the cost of their ability to defend themselves. Their rage becomes a great deal more effective as they level, and should be the cornerstone of their abilities. Shines when they've given a high Strength and a Two-Handed Weapon. Good Fortitude, high Hit Points. Low Reflexes and Will.

Moving to the next, the feline raises a paw, to gesture at a smug-looking halfling gentleman, thumbs coiled around his belt and surrounded by folks suffering bizarre-but-funny mishaps. "Lem. Born a slave in the devil-corrupted country of Cheliax, he possessed a quick wit which earned him the relatively easier work as an entertainer. He eventually escaped this slavery to join the Society, though he was famous for looking back on his time there with a laugh. His intelligence actually allowed him to sample and pick up a variety of skills, from martial training to magic." The symbol nearby is that of a flute and a rapier forming an 'X'.
Bard: The jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none class. Wears light armor. Bards can learn a variety of skills and special abilities, but they shine at supporting their friends. Since they don't master anything, they're much better at focusing instead on what they can do to help the party. Flanking in combat, special combat maneuvers, picking up rare skills, healing/support magic, and crowd control are all good ideas. Good Reflex and Will. Average Hit Points. Low Fortitude.

"Kyra," he states, moving on to the next, "Grew up in a small temple devoted to the sun goddess, Sarenrae. When bandits attacked her village, the priestesses gave their lives to defend the people. Standing in the burned ruin of the temple, swearing her life and her sword arm to the goddess, promising mercy to the deserving and swift death to those who find glory in murder. She was a real boon to the Society: both for her flaming scimitar and her healing magics." The symbol nearby is the holy symbol of Sarenrae.
Cleric: A preparation caster. Wears any armor. A far cry from the cloth-armored healers of video game fare, the Cleric is a heavily armored caster able to hold their own in the fray. They possess powers granted to them directly by their deity, which is restored every day at dawn. Different deities give different powers. All of them possess the ability to deal a massive area-of-effect healing (if good) or a massive area-of-effect damage (if evil). As a preparation caster, a cleric 'prepares' a handful of spells every day, which can then be cast at any time throughout the day. Unlike the spontaneous caster, the cleric may prepare different spells every day. Good Fortitude and Will. Average Hit Points. Low Reflexes.

The next picture is that of a green-haired gnome. A gentle smile spreads across her face, and it takes a moment to notice that the fur she's reclining upon is a massive snow leopard, which looks at the viewer with some interest. "Lini, as you can see, had some major skill with animals. Her companion, the snow leopard Droogami, supported and defended her at all times - as well as acted as her closest friend. Rare for the Society, Lini was so in-tune with nature that nature actively worked to help her." The symbol is that of a pair of antlers.
Druid: A preparation caster. Wears any non-metal armor. Capable of both elemental and healing magic, the druid is a boon to most parties. While not as capable as the wizard or cleric with either, the ability to do either shouldn't be downplayed. Druids can choose between having a stalwart animal companion or a close tie to an environment, animal species, or element, giving them special powers instead. At higher levels, they learn to shapeshift into animals for a melee boost. As a preparation caster, a druid 'prepares' a handful of spells every day, which can then be cast at any time throughout the day. Unlike the spontaneous caster, the druid may prepare different spells every day. Good Fortitude and Will. Average Hit Points. Low Reflexes.

"Valeros," Professor Babar gestures to a handsome, dirty man standing above a defeated enemy, "Was actually a mercenary working for a company poised against the Society. His good heart led him to join us, instead. It might have helped that he was also fleeing an arrangement with the mercenary leader's homely daughter." He chuckles, "The two swords you see him using there are his trademark - one to attack, and the other to defend." The symbol nearby is that of a longsword and shortsword in an inverted cross.
Fighter: A melee or ranged class. Wears any armor, and darn well every weapon, too. Fighter is a straightforward class that gets better at combat as they go up... and that's all. They get a great deal of tricks that allow them to specialize in a particular weapon or weapon group. Good Fortitude and Hit Points. Low Reflex and Will.

A bald man in a cross-legged position floats slightly off the ground in a serene location. "Sajan here was born to the warrior caste on the island-nation of Jalmeray... southeast of here. His twin sister was kidnapped, and he joined the Society in hopes that he would better be able to find her. However, this led to a sentence of death in his homeland for desertion, so he had no problems dedicating himself to other causes. Impressively athletic, Sajan was capable of fighting unarmored and unarmed." His symbol is that of an open palm.
Monk: A secondary melee class. Wears no armor or weapons. A somewhat complex class that get a massive amount of Wushu-inspired martial arts abilities, incredible speed, and a hard-hitting unarmed strike. They're best served when they can use their speed as a sort of 'combat pragmatist', hitting weak enemies and outsmarting (rather than overpowering) stronger enemies. Good Fortitude, Reflex, and Will. Average Hit Points.

"This next one is Seelah." He gestures at a kind-looking woman dressed in full plate armor, defensively holding a sword and shield. A great red cape swirls behind her. "Orphaned by a gnoll attack at a young age, she grew up in my own homeland, Taldor. Starving and looking for something to steal, she found a paladin's helmet and took it. After her theft of the helmet led to the paladin's death defending the city, the guilt-ridden Seelah climbed onto the paladin's pyre - only to be saved by the other members of the paladin;s order, who took her in and made her one of them. Her kindness and generosity became legendary, and she fought against the forces of evil more off the field of battle than on." The symbol nearby is the holy symbol of Iomedae, goddess of honor and valor.
Paladin: A primary melee class. Wears any armor. The greatest defensive class in the game: though there is a code of conduct involved, it's one a hero can easily fulfill. Access to multiple healing abilities, spells, and a great deal of weapon skill, a paladin is darn-near immortal. The stereotype of a paladin giving his or her life so that others may live is pretty much the only way one can be taken down, save for grave misfortune. Good Fortitude, Will, and Hit Points. Low Reflex.

"Harsk." Moving over to the next, the Professor bows his head to the portrait, showing a dwarven man with a crossbow. He takes aim at a target a good distance away: close inspection reveals his target to be a giant. "Studied the art of stealth and became an excellent shot with a crossbow to avenge his brother's death at the hand of giants. I've actually met the man... of note, he prefers tea to ale. Says it keeps his senses sharper. I agree entirely." The symbol is that of a crossbow bolt.
Ranger: A melee or ranged class. Wears Light and Medium armor. Though the iconic ranger is that of an archer, the fact is that they have the ability to specialize in other fighting styles. A ranger learns to take advantage of favored terrain and a fighting style against a specific race or monster they despise more than anything else in the world, stacking combat bonuses as they go. Can eventually gain an animal companion, much like a druid. Good Fortitude, Reflex, and Hit Points. Low Will.

Gracing the next picture sits an elven woman. She wistfully admires a stiletto on her hand, resting on the windowsill of a very tall building. "This is Merisiel. No one's really sure how it happened, but she ended up being raised by humans in the Puddles-" He stutters for a moment, "Erm, that is... the slums in here in Absalom. She's what the elves refer to as a Forlorn: an elf who has spent enough time among the shorter-lived races to see many generations of friends grow old and die before she even reached adulthood. She uses her natural abilities of stealth, quick fingers, and a knowledge of anatomy to bring down enemies of the Society."
Rogue: A secondary melee class. Wears Light armor. While many believe that a rogue is all about the sneak attack, the reality is that they are much better outside of combat than in it. Rogues gain the highest amount of skills in the game, and have access to pretty darn near everything. Given enough time, they can go places they shouldn't and acquire items that the party needs (free of charge). They're better support in melee, flanking something with a bigger, better armored ally. Good Reflex. Low Fortitude, Will, and Hit Points.

The Professor pauses a moment to admire the breathtakingly beautiful woman in the next picture. She strikes an attractive pose that shows off her tattoos, "Seoni. Born to a nomadic tribe in Varisia, she was blessed with natural magical powers, and driven by dreams that urged her to explore the mysteries of her supernatural heritage. Her blood-given powers turned her into an impressive sort of arcane artillery, making quick work of opponents." Her symbol appears to be a magical rune.
Sorcerer: A spontaneous casting class. Wears no armor. Heirs to a magical legacy, every sorcerer has a 'bloodline' which gives them the power to cast spells. Unlike most spellcasters, however, the sorcerer learns a very limited number of spells. In exchange, they can cast any spell they know without preparing it ahead of time, and has access to more magic per day than their counterpart, the wizard. Because of this, most sorcerers don't bother with utility spells, taking whatever they can to deal more damage in exotic ways, relying on their bloodline powers to fill the gap. Good Will, Low Fortitude, Will, and Hit Points.

A man sits at a desk, surrounded by musty-looking tomes. He doesn't even bother looking up towards the viewer, gray hairs hanging down to his shoulder as he studies. He is quite handsome for his age, with a well-trimmed white beard and the clothes of a nobleman. "Finally, Ezren, our wizard. My mentor, as it is. A universalist by principle... that is, he studied all schools of magic. He worked for years trying to clear his father's name, only to abandon this life when a divination revealed that his father was indeed guilty of heresy. He devoted his life to study, education, and magic." His symbol appears to be an open tome.
Wizard: A preparation casting class. Wears no armor. Scholars of the arcane world, the wizard given enough time gains access to every single arcane spell in the game. Many instead choose to specialize in a school of magic, gaining incredible powers related to that school in exchange for lack of study in two other schools. As a preparation caster, a wizard 'prepares' a handful of spells every day, which can then be cast at any time throughout the day. Unlike the spontaneous caster, the wizard may prepare different spells every day. Good Will. Low Fortitude, Reflex, and Hit Points.

Professor Babar chuckles, looking to them, "Though I'm sure you've heard of one or two of them already, haven't you?" His tail swings like a metronome, eyes squinting as he reveals pointed teeth in a smile. "Any of them have a story and style that seem interesting to you...? Note, that since you'll probably be placed in a group together, it might pay to communicate with each other to make a group that plays of each other's strengths. There is no competition here, nor is there a time limit. Take your time, discuss it... ask me if you want to know more."

"As for my form..." He smiles at the lot of them, "I'm under the effects of a baleful polymorph spell. It's a high-level transmutation that unwillingly turns an opponent into a harmless animal. It also alters their mind, causing them to forget they were a person at all. The one that struck me was so powerful, that it became permanent. I'm lucky to have my mind at all, thanks to the efforts of a skilled cleric." He nods, "This prevents me from adventuring anymore. It's for the best, really. The individual who cursed me like this is still out there."
 
Celir listened to the next couple of introductions quietly. She fiddled with her hair and watched each person as they introduced themselves. An eyebrow quirked at Mirella but she didn't say a word. A quiet voice next to her made her jump lightly before she looked over at the source. A huge grin lit her face as she saw Zaigou. She resisted the urge to hug the other half-elf. She hadn't thought he would actually come with her. She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice to match his as the third girl of the party began to speak. "Not too much, the cat sitting on the desk is Profesor Babar, the gnomes name is Xavian," She inclined her head to Mirella "Her name is Mirella." She paused as she watched another person twirl into the room. She blinked. "That's all you missed." She returned her attention to the girl speaking as she lightly bumped her shoulder against Zaigou's. She was glad to see a familiar face.

As Professor Babar spoke, Celirs eyes studied each picture as he introduced the individual within its frame. However, when he got to Harask, her eyes stilled and stared at it. She remembered stories about him. Her father used to tell them to her after a long night of work. She bit her lip subconsciously as her mind whirled at the thought of being a ranger before she refocused on the rest of the portraits introductions. After the cat finally ended his introduction, gave them instructions, and told the tale of why he was a cat, Celir turned back to Zaigou.

"So?" She asked him with a small grin. "I like the sound of being a ranger, what about you?"
 
Ayala listened to the professor explain the classes that they'd choose from and was really interested in the druid one as seeing as she really liked wolves. Once the professor was finished she walked over the the half elf she saw earlier and noticed a new comer a male he also seemed to be like the girl, a half elf. "Hello guys." she nodded at the both of them "Have you decided yet of what you want?"
 
Mirella looked between the portraits. She skipped over the warrior-types; getting beat up wasn't exactly her forte. She preferred something a bit cleaner, more sophisticated…
The Sorceress seemed interesting; a few powerful spells that could be called at will, never leaving her defenceless, and just far enough from the battle to keep the blood off her shirt.
But, then again, the Rogue could also be a good fit; closer to the enemy, but the fight was over before they even knew what happened. Very tidy, indeed.
For some reason, though, she kept coming back to the Druid. She didn't even know why; something about the deep connection to nature and a companion to protect her was very appealing.
She glanced around their ragtag group, deciding to hold final judgment until the others voiced their opinions on the matter.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Zaigou furrowed his brow, looking at the options, he had studied the arts of magick, and he could feel his own blood tingle as he observed the Sorcerer's mark, but he felt drawn to the shadows of a rogue at the same time. He was severely conflicted and found himself looking back and forth between the two. "I... Cannot say. How could I choose?" He asked, primarily rhetorically. He reached into his jacket for his cards again and shuffled them. The first card he drew was Seven of Diamonds. Not one of the usual cards that he'd grown accustomed to drawing. It intrigued him. "Diamonds, Lucky Seven. I think... Yes, I believe Rogue suits me." He stated, turning and facing the elf girl. "And yourself Stranger?" He asked, closing his cards up and placing them back in his jacket.
 
Xavian listened as the professor explained the different classes and considered each in turn. Barbarian seemed a likely choice. Rushing forward sounded pretty good, but he doubted he would be very good at it. The bard looked like he was having more fun. Kyra, well, seemed fine enough, but this business about the goddess was a bit strange. He'd think more on that or maybe ask about it. The druid was hard not to identify with. Even their hair almost matched. Valeros was forgettable. Sajan's story, however, rang the most true for him. It wasn't a twin sister that had been kidnapped, but his sister had gone missing, and Sajan's path was one he could see himself following.

After that, his focus started to waver. He couldn't see himself becoming a paladin. They didn't seem like they would stray from that one path, which didn't seem very fun at all to him. Stealth wasn't really his sort of thing. And sorcerers and wizards? Casting from far away? Well, actually, that didn't seem like a bad idea.

Lyte wanted to be a ranger, and whoever her friend was seemed to want to be a rogue. A couple seemed to be eyeing the druid's portrait, and somehow he couldn't help but feel proud for that gnome even if they were elves, but that meant ...

"Well someone's got to fight in front," he announced as he spun into the middle of the room, trying to get the others' attention, "And I think I wouldn't be the first to say it shouldn't be me. Anyone we face will lop off your head if I stand in front." He turned around and considered each of the portraits again. "I think the path of the bard fits me best, but I do like Sajan, and cleric seems fine enough if there's more than just the sun goddess to follow?" As he asked, he turned a questioning look to their professor cat. The more he thought about it, the more awesome all of them seemed to be. Xavian figured he ought to shut his mouth before he decided he wanted to follow all of the paths.
 
"I'm glad you asked." Icarus Babar looked to Xavian, padding over and looking up at the gnome. "There are the twenty primary deities, who are known throughout the Inner Sea Region, and a handful of demigods. You might have seen the Ascendant Court on the way in? It's in the very center of town. Well, it's that very spot that the Starstone hit long ago. Whoever impresses the Starstone by finishing it's trails is awarded with godhood... though there hasn't been a lot of those. Most of them were given divinity through other means..." He turns, hopping up onto the desk. With a whispered word, a book dropped from thin air, opening in front of him. He pawed through the pages until he nods, "Here we are. Might as well do them alphabetically."

Caution: Wall of Text!
"Abadar, Master of the First Vault. God of cities, law, merchants, and wealth. Known to be a patient deity. Maintaining a strong neutral stance in his actions, he sets forth to further expand civilization and order in the world and among the peoples of our world, Golarion. Abadar has long served as the guardian and protector of the First Vault, a repository said to be crafted by the deity's own hand, containing perfect versions of everything ever created or seen by civilized peoples. He is also credited with guiding the advancement of the demihuman races towards the point where they could establish civilized societies of their own. He is believed to have been among the group of eldest gods who banded together in the time before mortal reckoning to defeat and imprison the rampaging god Rovagug."

"Asmodeus, Prince of Darkness. God of contracts, pride, slavery, and tyranny. The most powerful of the nine archdevils that inhabit Hell and the only one of Hell's rulers to claim full divinity. It is he who is credited with the penning of the contract of creation, within which his followers believe is hidden the means for their patron's eventual rise to supremacy. In addition to forging the contract of creation, then accepted by all the gods and rumored to contain a secret that will one day lead to its author's rise to power above his fellow deities, Asmodeus played a key role in the defeat and imprisonment of Rovagug. The Rough Beast was sealed away in the Pit of Gormuz, the only key to his prison kept by the Prince of Darkness himself."

"Calistra, the Savored Sting. Goddess of revenge, lust, and trickery. Held in especially high regard by elves, who often identify her moods and attitude with that of their people. A fondness of wasps has earned this vengeful deity the title the Savored Sting; such creatures live on after harming their enemies, a trait to be emulated should one seek to inflict pain on another."

"Cayden Cailen, the Drunken Hero. God of bravery, ale, freedom, and wine. Funny story to him: before he successfully completed the Test of the Starstone, the man known as Cayden Cailean was a Taldan sellsword and freedom fighter working out of Absalom. He strongly believed that no man should hold power over another, and went so far as to leave jobs unfinished rather than violate his principles. His refusal to compromise his ideals was as well known as his love for drink, and the combination of the two resulted in a less-than-favorable reputation among potential employers. Ultimately, however, the latter would lead to the man's ascension to the pantheon.
Cailean never planned to become a god, but when a drunk friend challenged him to take the Test of the Starstone, an equally inebriated Caelean accepted, forgetting that only two mortals, Aroden and Norgorber, had passed the test. Legends abound regarding the challenges Cailean faced at the Starstone, but no one knows the truth of what happened. Regardless, after three days had passed, the sellsword -- to everyone's surprise -- emerged as a deity.
Cayden Cailean has lived his immortal life much as he did his mortal one. He holds freedom and adventure in high regard, and opposes tyranny and oppression on principle. He willingly accepts challenges when they are issued, although not as a point of honor; he sees no shame in retreating when necessary. One instance of note is the fall of the devil Salicotal, who grew infuriated with Cailean during a duel of dares, and attacked -- only to be defeated at the hands of the god."

"Desna, Song of the Spheres. Goddess of dreams, luck, stars, and travelers. A favorite among Society members. One of the first deities, but while her peers burdened themselves with the task of creating Golarion she spent her time building the heavens. She's changed little since those earlier days, and she and her followers delight in exploring the world. Desna is an ancient goddess of freedom and luck, and is credited with the creation of the heavens. In her earliest days the god Curchanus, an enemy of the goddess Lamashtu, was her mentor. Lamashtu laid a trap for Curchanus and stripped him of his beast domain, ripping it from his godly essence. As he died he gifted Desna with the domain of travel; she has traveled the planes and worlds since, opposing both oppression and Lamashtu wherever she encounters them, and spreading her word while making an effort to experiencing new wonders when she can."

"Erastil, Old Deadeye. God of family, farming, hunting, and trade. One of the oldest gods still worshiped in Golarion. His religion dates back to before the Age of Darkness when small farming communities and hunter-gatherers prayed to him for bountiful harvests and successful hunts. He is a god of the hunt and of farming, leading his followers by example and good deeds rather than flowery rhetoric."

"Gorum, Our Lord in Iron. God of battle, strength, and weapons. It is said that if there is ever a time with no more conflicts to be fought, he would rust away into nothingness. Known as the Lord in Iron, his faithful believe he is present in every iron weapon of war that is forged. His clergy claim he was formed from battle itself, a suit of iron armor standing alone on the battlefield once the dust had settled; his genesis is generally considered to have resulted from conflicts that erupted between orcs and humans following the former race's surge to the surface during the Age of Darkness. Gorum is considered the divine embodiment of martial prowess, of glory on the battlefield, and it is believed that should conflicts like those that birthed the deity ever cease, he will perish as a result of their absence."

"Gozreh, the Wind and the Waves. God of nature, the sea, and weather. A dualistic god of nature, a god of the storm and sky and also a goddess of the wave and surf. Born of the ocean's fury and the wind's wrath, Gozreh is a fickle deity. thought to have existed for as long as the wind has blown and the waters swelled. His faithful are to be found in all places of nature, doing her will as they have for eons. He is counted among one of the original gods that fought against Rovagug in the defense of all creation."

"Iomedae, the Inheritor. Goddess of honor, justice, rulership, and valor. Having served as Aroden - another deity's - herald, she inherited many of the Last Azlanti's followers upon his death, and continues to espouse the ideas of honor and righteousness in the defense of good and the battle against evil. As a mortal, Iomedae led the Knights of Ozem in the Shining Crusade against the forces of the Whispering Tyrant. In the fall of 3832 AR[3][4], Iomedae, was the last mortal to pass the Test of the Starstone and ascend to godhood."

"Irori, the Master of Masters. God of history, knowledge, and self-perfection. A god of enlightenment and self-perfection. His followers claim that he was once a mortal who achieved absolute physical and mental perfection and thus attained divinity. He is one of the core gods of, if not the most powerful deity of, the Vudrani pantheon. Irori respects that other deities are different spiritual beings and that what is correct for him may not be so for them. As such, he tries to avoid interfering with other divine beings unless they threaten his work or his people."

"Lamashtu, the Mother of Monsters. Goddess of madness, monsters, and nightmares. the mother and patroness of many misshapen and malformed creatures that crawl, slither, or flap on, above, or below the surface of Golarion. Lamashtu was once a mighty demon lord. In ages past she was allied with Pazuzu, though the exact nature of their alliance is often disputed by scholars of demon lore. Some say they were lovers, others say siblings, or simply convenient allies. What is known for certain is that she lured the god Curchanus into her territory and beset him with swarms of demons and other monsters until he was weak enough for her to attack him. By defeating him, she ripped his godly domain over beasts from him, beginning an ancient vendetta with Curchanus's protege Desna. This imbued the demoness with a small amount of his divine power. Pazuzu was enraged by this shift in power and as she returned from that battle he betrayed and attacked her. He wounded her terribly, but her newfound divinity allowed her to survive. They have been mortal enemies since. Lamashtu's vendetta against him is only equaled by Desna's own vendetta against her. It is claimed by many monstrous humanoid races that she was their first progenitor and creator."

"Nethys, the All-Seeing Eye. God of magic. A god who holds magic above all things. He gained enough power to witness all things, and this both fueled his divinity and shattered his mind. He is a god of magic torn between destroying the world with one hand and saving it with the other. Although his madness makes it hard to act on long-term plans Nethys is active and approachable by all deities for aid in their ventures. He remains neutral for the most part, unless his powers of omnipresent knowledge reveal he is being betrayed or threatened. He particularly allies with those requiring the use of magic, regardless of nefarious or benevolent cause."

"Norgober, the Reaper of Reputation. God of greed, murder, secrets, and poison. He is called the 'Reaper of the Reputation' by some, but he has more insidious titles among his other worshipers. He remains an enigma to most, and his true motives are unknown. Many of his own followers remain ignorant of his plans and designs. Norgorber is the only evil aligned ascended god. Norgorber's past before he ascended into godhood through the Test of the Starstone, is unknown. His followers go to great lengths to keep it a secret. Some believe that if the origin of the god became known, the god himself would become undone."

"Pharasma, the Lady of Graves. Goddess of birth, death, fate, and prophecy. She is the goddess who shepherds Golarion's recently-departed souls to their final reward. Upon death, souls migrate to Pharasma's Boneyard in the Outer Sphere, which sits atop an impossibly tall spire that pierces the Astral Plane. Pharasma makes no decision on whether a death is just or not; she views all with a cold and uncaring attitude, and decides on which of the Outer Planes a soul will spend eternity. Pharasma is also the goddess of birth and prophecy: from the moment a creature is born, she sees what its ultimate fate will be, but reserves final judgement until that soul finally stands before her. As the goddess of death and rebirth, she abhors the undead and considers them a perversion."

"Rovagug, the Rough Beast. God of destruction, disaster, and wrath. Imprisoned since the dawn of time, Rovagug seeks only to destroy creation and the gods. His increasingly restless stirrings are taken by many to be the cause of volcanic activity and earthquakes. In a time so long ago that perhaps even the aboleth do not remember it, and before the entity known as Zon-Kuthon emerged from the Outer Darkness, Rovagug sought to destroy the world. In a rare showing of solidarity, all the gods stood together to defeat him.Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to destroy him, the goddess Sarenrae sliced open a hole in the world, and the archdevil Asmodeus bound him with a key only the Prince of Darkness held. This prison is believed to be the Pit of Gormuz on the continent of Casmaron, in a region known as the Windswept Wastes."

"Sarenrae, the Dawnflower. Goddess of healing, honesty, redemption, and the sun. She teaches temperance and patience in all things. Compassion and peace are her greatest virtues, and if enemies of the faith can be redeemed, they should be. Yet there are those who have no interest in redemption, who glory in slaughter and death. From the remorseless evil of the undead and fiends to the cruelties born in the hearts of mortals, Sarenrae's doctrines preach swift justice delivered by the scimitar's edge. To this end, she expects her faithful to be skilled at swordplay, both as a form of martial art promoting centering of mind and body, and so that when they do enter battle, their foes do not suffer any longer than necessary."

"Sheyln, the Eternal Rose. Goddess of art, breauty, love, and music. The half-sister of Zon-Kuthon. She started life as a relatively minor deity of beauty, art, and music, but with the destruction of her mother (former goddess of love), she gained the very important portfolio of love and became a somewhat more-powerful deity. Shelyn continues to focus on beauty (and the related areas of art and music), and has expanded upon her mother's relatively narrow view of love to include all forms of the emotion. Shelyn's ethnicity of origin is Taldor and her major centers of worship are Absalom, Galt, Sargava and Taldor."

"Torag, the Father of Creation. God of the forge, protection, and strategy. A stoic and serious god who values honor, planning and well-made steel. He is an often distant deity, lending magical power to his clerics, but leaving his followers to make their own way through life, knowing that this will make them strong and determined."

"Urgathoa, the Pallid Princess. Goddess of disease, gluttony, and undeath. She is mostly worshiped by dark necromancers and the undead. Sometimes those wishing to become undead and those who live gluttonous lifestyles make supplication to her. On occasion, folk infected with plagues make offerings to Urgathoa. There are stories that suggest that Urgathoa was once a hedonistic mortal female. Upon her death, she fled Pharasma's Boneyard and returned to Golarion, making her the Great Beyond's first undead creature. Her return to the mortal world is said to be the origin of disease."

"Zon-Kuthon, the Midnight Lord. God of darkness, envy, loss, and pain. He possesses one of the most twisted and evil minds in the multiverse. His position as god of pain is well earned, and he has been the root of countless tortures, murders and worse throughout time.At the beginning of time, Zon-Kuthon was known as Dou-Bral, a good deity who shared the portfolio of beauty, love and the arts with his half-sister Shelyn. Dou-Bral abandoned Golarion for the dark places between the planes, though, and was tormented there and possessed by an alien being. Upon returning to reality, Dou-Bral as he had been known was gone, replaced with the twisted, malevolent soul known as Zon-Kuthon.
When Shelyn saw that her brother was forever changed, and not for the better, the two battled, her pleas and tears met with a violence foreign to the Dou-Bral she knew and loved. Shelyn finally wrested the golden glaive the two had shared a symbol of their power from her twisted brother's fingers, establishing an tenuous truce, held in place more by silence and avoidance than any desire to actually coexist."

The professor closes the book, "I'll spare you having to sit through the multitudes of minor gods and goddesses in the world, as well as the various cults and philosophies. These twenty are considered the main pantheon of the entire Inner Sea region, and are at least recognized worldwide." He nods, "Even if you aren't a worshiper, it's considered in good taste to occasionally consider Pharasma's influence on things. Even though I abstain from normal worship, simply the act of studying magic is a prayer to Nethys, so that makes that."
 
Zaigou nodded quietly. He was already a worshipper of Nethys, although it didn't make much difference. Nethys more or less ignored him aside from when he was studying magick, and even then he was rather inconsequential. Still, He felt more aligned with him than he did his secondary choice of Worship of Besmara, a minor goddess of Piracy and general awesomeness.

There was something else that he recalled though. "Excuse me, but there are many types of rogues aren't there?" He asked the Professor. His voice was questioning, but in his mind he was contemplating. Being a trap hound wasn't his way. He recalled however Pirates, Snipers, and even Swashbucklers as part of history associated with the term Rogue, so he was curious if the connection was simply superficial or if it was in fact possible to be a rogue outside of the standard.
 
Last edited:
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back