Mirella looked over the myriad of colorful elixirs. There were so many choices that would impact the rest of her natural life, and so little time to decide… She picked up a crude drinking instrument – made of clay or some other undesirable material – and began pacing in front of the shelves, her boots continuing their incessant rhythm. She wished she had packed a suitable apparatus for the occasion. The poisons looked particularly distasteful, but in order to be truly powerful she'd have to weaken herself, ironically. She wasn't greatly interested in her strength or dexterity – those could go. Constitution would be nice, but only to keep her from fainting at every encounter. The magic-based abilities would be her main focus. She would become a skilled sorceress and lead their team to perfection. Yes, that was what she'd do. She stopped pacing and looked at the rest of her new family, waiting to see who would be bold enough to take the first sip.
Celir looked at the room of potions before walking towards tthem as well, wanting to get a better look at them herself. She tilted her head as she scanned them. She glanced back as people spoke before she again returned her gaze to the potions. She bit her lip while she looked away so no one would notice the nervous habit. I probably need to boost my strength up she paused in thought and frowned as an image of herself with huge hulking muscles passed into her mind. She crinkled her nose. She didn't want to be too bulky and decided that she didn't need too big of a boost. She picked up seven of them. Before turning around and glancing at the group with a smile.
"Cheers" She held the bottle up and pretended to clank it against an imaginary glass before she opened one of the vials and swallowed it down before she could hesitate and freak out. She cringed as instant heat her lips. She hated spicy things. She quickly chugged the other six down with water in her eyes. Making sure she swallowed it, she bent over and started to gasp for breath. "hot, hot hot hot hot hot hot." She muttered to herself before she looked up, eyes still watering, at the yellow vials.
The Extracts of Quickness seemed to twinkle at her in an amused fashion. She breathed through her mouth and plucked up five of them before swallowing them down, almost immediately the hot effects from the red potions eased. She closed her eyes and nearly sighed. That was, before an almost sour taste flitted over her tongue. She cringed again, glad she had just taken all of the ones she wanted to take of that one before the effects kicked in.
The Extracts of life where next. She pulled five of them from the shelf and then went ahead and pulled two of the green vials down with five of the orange and one purple. She then just gulped them all down making a face as the different tastes intermingled and her body tingled in the way ones leg would if it were to fall asleep. She waved her hands before she darted out of the potion room of yuck and back behind Zaigou with a cringe. At least it was over now.
At least the half-orc didn't seem that interested in talking either, although that could easily be because the professor had opened a wall in the back. In any case, he didn't seem that smart. Of course you drank them. What else would one do with them?
Xavian went forward and grabbed a bunch of Extracts of Life and Senses. He wasn't quite certain about what else he wanted, but these were definitely a good start. But what would they taste like? There was a chance it would taste good, but it seemed most beneficial potions he had ever encountered were not. "Here goes," he muttered and then poured each of the white and green vials he had grabbed into his mouth and swallowed. As soon as he did, he grimaced, but at the same time, felt invigorated. It tasted like Auntie's Remedy to Everything potion. All herbal and healthy. Usually after he downed her potion, though, he wanted to pull his tongue out and curl up. Now, however, he just accepted the taste and even felt ready to down some more vials even though chances were they were just as bad.
Or at least, he felt ready until he saw the potions' effect on Celir after she had downed all of them. "Well, that didn't look pleasant," he commented to no one in particular. And in the same thought, he wondered if he would be able to pocket a pair of poison and extract for later shenanigans. Poof, took your power. Want it back? Gotta drink this terrible terrible potion. Then again, he was certain the professor would notice if more than exactly 300 were missing. Or would he? 300 was a really high number to count to. Xavian spared a look at the professor. Better not. He had no idea what else the wizard knew even if he was a cat. He turned around to consider the potions again only to find Mirella had stopped pacing right in front of him. "Well, you going to do it or not?" he asked of the elf.
Celir had started to drink, and she was still living it looked like. Well, Aurok supposed it was time to get it done with. He reached passed Celir who was having a time of drinking the potions, he popped open seven of the lids and poured them all down his gullet, it was pretty spicy. It seemed like a bad idea at first, his body temperature spiked, he felt like steam was coming off his body and his muscles began to burn. All over his body he felt sore as if he had been working out his entire body for weeks straight, it made his legs shake and he fell to one knee. The sensation passed in severity, he felt a dull ache and a density in his physique he hadn't known before.
He stood up again and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Alright..." he said to himself and grabbed five of the yellow potions and popped the lids off all of them and did the same thing, pouring them all in at once. It was sweet, he remembered thinking that as his equilibrium shifted and he wobbled a bit and thought he was going to fall over but it was soon over, and he suddenly had more confidence in his movement than he had before. Next he grabbed five of the white potions and downed them all. It tasted like nuts and his heart rate spiked briefly and whatever fatigue he had been feeling was gone now.
Next was the Intelligence potions, he wasn't taking so many, just three. He chugged them and tasted the refreshing minty flavor, mentally he felt tired but he felt like everything was much easier to understand, he processed information more quickly. Now Wisdom, he chugged those too, the herby flavor reminded him of the wild. His senses dulled and then sharpened, randomly and almost painfully and quickly they settled and he was more aware of things around him, details he hadn't noticed became clear. He ignored the Charisma potions, and looked at Celir and then at the Proffessor with new understanding and awe.
"Well, to those of you who have not, take your time in drinking them. Meanwhile, allow me to offer you a small lecture..." The professor gestures at them, "This next one might be a touchy subject for some of you: that of your race. While a few groups would have you believe that we're all the same, that simply isn't true. Each race has it's own strength, brought about from their culture and divine manipulation. Now, most of you already know this about yourselves, but I'd like to offer the rest of you the chance to know a little more about those standing next to you by knowing what their race is famed for."
"We'll start with the race I belonged to, and the most populace of race in the Inner Sea region: humankind. Beyond being prolific, humankind has a knack for... well, everything. Just not all at once." He chuckles, going on: "We're adaptable as a race, running every extreme and everything in-between. As well as adaptable, we're mutable: the human race is capable of... romantic liaisons with nearly everything else in the Inner Sea region, and is the most capable of changing their physical form. Ideas, not so much. Once a human believes in something, it's very hard to change their mind."
-Human characters gain a +2 racial bonus to one ability score of their choice at creation to represent their varied nature. -Size: Humans are Medium creatures and thus receive no bonuses or penalties due to their size. -Base Speed: Humans have a base speed of 30 feet. -Languages: Humans begin play speaking Common. Humans with high Intelligence scores can choose any languages they want (except secret languages, such as Druidic). See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.
-Bonus Feat: Humans select one extra feat at 1st level.
-Skills: Humans gain an additional skill rank at first level and one additional rank whenever they gain a level.
"Elves... value their privacy and traditions, so I won't go much into that. However, I will say that their long lives are the actual reason behind their close ties with nature. You see, if elves lived as humans did, the world's resources would quickly dry up. Long ago they found methods of living closer to nature as a necessity to support their thousand-plus year lifespans. While frail, they're famously intelligent and quick, with keen senses and immunity to several common types of mind-affecting abilities. Famously, elves do not sleep: they instead enter a meditative trance for four hours. Very effective, coupled with their lifespans."
-Elves are nimble, both in body and mind, but their form is frail. They gain +2 Dexterity, +2 Intelligence, and –2 Constitution.
-Size: Elves are Medium creatures and thus receive no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
-Speed: Elves are Humanoids with the elf subtype.
-Base Speed: Elves have a base speed of 30 feet.
-Languages: Elves begin play speaking Common and Elven. Elves with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following: Celestial, Draconic, Gnoll, Gnome, Goblin, Orc, and Sylvan. See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.
-Elven Immunities: Elves are immune to magic sleep effects and gain a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells and effects.
-Keen Senses: Elves receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.
-Elven Magic: Elves receive a +2 racial bonus on caster level checks made to overcome spell resistance. In addition, elves receive a +2 racial bonus on Spellcraft skill checks made to identify the properties of magic items.
-Weapon Familiarity: Elves are proficient with longbows (including composite longbows), longswords, rapiers, and shortbows (including composite shortbows), and treat any weapon with the word "elven" in its name as a martial weapon.
-Low-Light Vision: Elves can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light.
"Of all elven traits, however, the one that entrances humankind most is their beauty. In turn, elves are sometimes attracted to the ambition and passion of the human race. Often, the result of these couplings are half-elves. Uniquely, this has become such a common occurrence that they're a race all to themselves: and, in fact, breed true. While they don't enter the elven trance when they sleep, they inherit some defenses from their elven mother or father. From their human parent, they receive adaptability. Now comes the part I find interesting: half-elves, torn between two ways of live, are extremely skilled at combining esoteric study into a functioning whole. The first 'eldritch knight' was a half-elf: a swordsman who supplemented his skill with the study of arcane magic. Very impressive."
-Half-elf characters gain a +2 bonus to one ability score of their choice at creation to represent their varied nature.
-Type: Half-elves are Humanoid creatures with both the human and the elf subtypes.
-Size: Half-elves are Medium creatures and have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
-Base Speed: Half-elves have a base speed of 30 feet.
-Languages: Half-elves begin play speaking Common and Elven. Half-elves with high Intelligence scores can choose any languages they want (except secret languages, such as Druidic). See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.
-Elven Immunities: Half-elves are immune to magic sleep effects and gain a +2 racial saving throw bonus against enchantment spells and effects.
-Adaptability: Half-elves receive Skill Focus as a bonus feat at 1st level.
-Keen Senses: Half-elves receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.
-Low-Light Vision: Half-elves can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light.
-Elf Blood: Half-elves count as both elves and humans for any effect related to race.
-Multitalented: Half-elves choose two favored classes at first level and gain +1 hit point or +1 skill point whenever they take a level in either one of those classes.
"I suppose it's no surprise to you that gnomes are closely related to the fey. It appears in their entire being: their appearance to their personality are all a result of fey heritage. Gnomes can have the same concerns and motivations as members of other races, but just as often they are driven by passions and desires that non-gnomes see as eccentric at best, and nonsensical at worst. A gnome may risk his life to taste the food at a giant's table, to reach the bottom of a pit just because it would be the lowest place he's ever been, or to tell jokes to a dragon—and to the gnome those goals are as worthy as researching a new spell, gaining vast wealth, or putting down a powerful evil force. While such apparently fickle and impulsive acts are not universal among gnomes, they are common enough for the race as a whole to have earned a reputation for being impetuous and at least a little mad."
-Gnomes are physically weak but surprisingly hardy, and their attitude makes them naturally agreeable. They gain +2 Constitution, +2 Charisma, and –2 Strength.
-Type: Gnomes are Humanoid creatures with the gnome subtype.
-Size: Gnomes are Small creatures and thus gain a +1 size bonus to their AC, a +1 size bonus on attack rolls, a –1 penalty to their Combat Maneuver Bonus and Combat Maneuver Defense, and a +4 size bonus on Stealth checks.
-Base Speed: (Slow Speed) Gnomes have a base speed of 20 feet.
-Languages: Gnomes begin play speaking Common, Gnome, and Sylvan. Gnomes with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following: Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Giant, Goblin, and Orc. See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.
-Defensive Training: Gnomes gain a +4 dodge bonus to AC against monsters of the giant subtype.
-Illusion Resistance: Gnomes gain a +2 racial saving throw bonus against illusion spells and effects.
-Keen Senses: Gnomes receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception checks.
-Obsessive: Gnomes receive a +2 racial bonus on a Craft or Profession skill of their choice.
-Gnome Magic: Gnomes add +1 to the DC of any saving throws against illusion spells that they cast. Gnomes with Charisma scores of 11 or higher also gain the following spell-like abilities: 1/day—dancing lights, ghost sound, prestidigitation, and speak with animals. The caster level for these effects is equal to the gnome's level. The DC for these spells is equal to 10 + the spell's level + the gnome's Charisma modifier.
-Hatred: Gnomes receive a +1 bonus on attack rolls against humanoid creatures of the reptilian and goblinoid subtypes because of their special training against these hated foes.
-Weapon Familiarity: Gnomes treat any weapon with the word "gnome" in its name as a martial weapon.
-Low-Light Vision: Gnomes can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light.
"Last - but certainly not least - are half-orcs. I consider them a bit of a cousin to half-elves... or perhaps the opposite side of the coin? Where half-elves are pulled towards elf or human from each respective side... half-orcs are pushed towards the other extreme by both sides of their lineage. Never accepted, but for different reasons than half-elves. I could go into their comparisons all day, but that's not what we're here to do. While they inherit a little bit of adaptation from their human side, most of what a half-orc knows is rage... not from their orc blood, but from their upbringing."
-Half-orc characters gain a +2 bonus to one ability score of their choice at creation to represent their varied nature.
-Type: Half-orcs are Humanoid creatures with both the human and orc subtypes.
-Size: Half-orcs are Medium creatures and thus have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
-Base Speed: Half-orcs have a base speed of 30 feet.
-Languages: Half-orcs begin play speaking Common and Orc. Half-orcs with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following: Abyssal, Draconic, Giant, Gnoll, and Goblin. See the Linguistics skill page for more information about these languages.
-Intimidating: Half-orcs receive a +2 racial bonus on Intimidate checks due to their fearsome nature.
-Orc Ferocity: Once per day, when a half-orc is brought below 0 hit points but not killed, he can fight on for 1 more round as if disabled. At the end of his next turn, unless brought to above 0 hit points, he immediately falls unconscious and begins dying.
-Weapon Familiarity: Half-orcs are proficient with greataxes and falchions and treat any weapon with the word "orc" in its name as a martial weapon.
-Darkvision: Half-orcs can see in the dark up to 60 feet.
-Orc Blood: Half-orcs count as both humans and orcs for any effect related to race.
"Now, I do believe that's everyone in the group, isn't it? I'm sure you'll enter into your cultural and personal differences somewhere down the line, but as a teacher, I must tell you: do not let them get in the way of your friendship." He looks upon the group with tragic eyes, "In any confrontation, there must always be someone who yields. Grudges must not be held: in the line of work you are nearing, teamwork is the only force that will keep you alive. Not physical might, not quickness, nor cleverness, nor magic, nor the very gods themselves."
About Racial Powers:
Every race has a bonus or bonus/penalty to their ability scores, which is noted in their list. The rest of it, however, deserves some explaining: Type: The character's type alters how some spells affect you. For instance, it's possible to come across a spell that only affects humans, or something similar. Size: Your size determines how much space you take up on a battle map. Most playable creatures are medium or small sized. Medium size offers no bonuses or penalties, and small size makes you a little quicker... but it's more difficult for a small creature to resist being pushed around. Base Speed: How many squares you can move when it's your turn. A square is equal to 5ft: as such, most races move 6 squares in a round. This can be increased through various means, and is most often decreased through heavier armors. Languages: How many languages your character knows. Most races start with 'Common', the basic language everyone speaks, and a racial tongue. They can learn more by having a higher Intelligence score. Other: All races have special abilities that only their race can do. Each is spoken of in their respective entry.
The racial powers can be copy-pasted onto a personal character sheet, and they can wind up being important at weird times!
Offering a nod, Babar continues, "Now comes the part that... well, I've been a little nervous about." He gestures at the portraits, "You see... everything else has been tested. This has not: it can't be tested, as it can only be used... once." He inhales deeply, stating, "I need you each to walk over to the portrait you chose earlier. The hero or heroine you'll be following in the footsteps on. I need you to place your hand upon the symbol near each one, representing the person in the picture. This is very specific: your palm needs to be touching it, and you cannot take your hand away until I say so... It's very important that you do not ask why."
Celir tilted her head and slowly put her hand up, actually having a question this time around.
"Professor, what exactly do you mean when you say Multitalented? How does that work?" She asked somewhat confused. She had already picked her class, does being multitalented mean she gets to pick another one? Or well, how was she multitalented exactly? She went to stand up front of the portrait of Harask, even as she kept her eyes focused on the feline professor, waiting for his answer. She laid her hand flat on the symbol of the Ranger. Silver orbs not moving from their focus.
Mirella looked down at the little man and held her tongue – family. She had to remember that. Family. She inspected the cup she had picked up and wondered how much it could hold. She had an idea how to get through this. One didn't simply consume a spoon of salt and nothing more!
She started with the poisons. Four dark red vials. She sniffed one of them – liquorish! Ah, fine. Fine! She poured them into the cup. Then to the bright yellows. Only one for her. A sugary sweetness wafted up to her nose as she poured it in. One white – a bit almond-y. Or was it more like cashews? She paused at the greens. Would she really be able to fit five whole vials into this little glass? She looked at the current mixture and noticed it wasn't even a quarter full. The professor must have magicked his tupperware for them. A wonderful mint filled the air. Another five from the oranges; some familiar herbs she couldn't quite identify filled her nose. Very intriguing, indeed. Now for the interesting portion. One by one she poured vial after vile vial of purple chocolate-y goodness into her mug until there were seventeen – seventeen! – empty bottles laying on the shelf. Finally, her cup runneth over. She tried to think of something witty to say before guzzling it all down. Well, all that charisma would probably inspire something amusing afterwards. She closed her eyes and threw it back.
It was the most heavenly thing she'd ever experienced. For a moment, she was absolutely at peace.
The strength poisons hit first – right to her knees. She unceremoniously crumpled straight to the floorboards. She'd just started to think of a nasty slam against gnomes when the charisma kicked in. Her newfound senses sharpened the pain of having landed on one's elbow, though the injury would only leave a bruise now, and her intelligence made it all too obvious she should have thought this out better.
Unfamiliar with having a sense of humor, the only thing she could come up with was "Ouch."
After listening to the professor Ayala was glad she hadn't yet chose her vials. She watched as Celir went over to her portrait and raised her hand asking the professor about being multi-talented. "alright then here we go." she mumbled to herself as she began to grab the vials "Alright let's start with the yellow ones." she grabbed five and continued to mumble to herself how many of each she need. by the time she finished grabbing all her vials she had two red and 3 of the purple and five each of the remaining colors. "I think I'm going to regret this..." talking to her self still but with a grim look on her face she managed to carry over all 25 vials and sat down at a table. She didn't bother to look at the others she was to occupied on which ones she dared drink first. Well, she thought to herself I might as well start with the lesser ones.
As Ayala picked up the two red she waved it under her nose like one would do with a glass of wine, they smelled of cinnamon she drank them enjoying the taste she went on to the next ones which were purple for charisma she only had three of them to drink, smelling them as she did with the red ones she couldn't be sure of what they're smell was she decided she would chance it and just drink it down. "now it's time for the big one" she huffed quietly as she grabbed five of the white ones that were for her health and stamina, she did want to be hurt less and last longer so she down those without a thought. With a gasp of shock she licked her lips "well that's strange its coconut." Still shocked a bit she went on to the next five which were orange, not wanting to drag it out any longer she grabbed the rest five of the orange and green drank them as fast as she could. Trying hard not to pay attention to the weird mixture of flavors the odd feelings kicked in and she was having all sorts of different tingly sensations wiggling through her body, she was really glad she decided to sit down because right now there was no way she would be able to stand with all this tingling it was bad enough her hands were shaking.
Aurok hoped that was the most uncomfortable part and that is was over, but then the Professor starting going over the highlights of their races, he felt some pride and a little shame when he went over his. The request for them to approach the portraits and not ask questions made him nervous, he watched Babar for a moment tempted to ask anyways. He instead decided to just go along with it, he decided he wasn't afraid of whatever would come next.
Straightening he took in a deep breath and felt out the new sensations he was feeling. It was like he had been exercising all portions of himself in such a short amount of time, he was looking around at things and picking up details he hadn't notice, thoughts were coming faster and more things were making sense, his muscles were slightly sore but he felt powerful, he felt like he had enough energy and ability to perform acrobatics all over this room. But, he shouldn't let himself get distracted. His muddy eyes swept over the room briefly, taking in everyone. He almost bypassed Mirella sitting on the ground, but decided if they were going to be working as a team, he'd start by helping this Elf and helped her to her feet before moving over to the portrait of the Monk and putting his palm on the symbol.
As Aurok helped her stand, Mirella's mind was strangely blank of insults or protests. She wobbled a little, but managed a small bow to the half-orc. "Much indebted." This was seriously getting weird. She followed him, her footsteps echoing quite conspicuously, and stopped in front of Seoni. She inspected the picture closely – nope, it didn't seem to be sentient. Who was playing tricks on her, then? She looked to the professor and, placing her hand on the symbol, awaited further instruction.
Xavian rolled his eyes when the elf declined to respond at all, but at least she had made some semblance of listening. She went after the vials after all. He watched her with his arms crossed as she poured each one into her cup and finally downed it, and she went down with it. Xavian did his best to choke back his laughter and suppress his smile, but the mirth was in his eyes, and his knees were cocked in such a fashion you could tell he wasn't entirely serious. He would have had a serves-you-right look to give her, and nearly made a sarcastic remark, but Aurok helped her up just then. He at least had the good graces to not drop his jaw in surprise or be more a disrupter of the peace than the half-orc. For now. If this kept up, though, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself forever.
He turned his attention to the vials once more. Better get it over with, he thought with a sigh. Worse came to worse, what happened? He came out with a face full of yuck or he collapsed on the ground. Or maybe if he picked the wrong vials and suddenly turned into a miniature orc dumb and all. Well, that wasn't entirely encouraging. Xavian went down the line and picked the rest of his vials, pouring each into his mouth as he went along, and waiting for the slight adjustment before moving on to the next vial. At least the purple ones tasted all right. They tasted fine enough that he was once again contemplating pocketing one for later, but the professor had in fact said that more than 25 could be dangerous. As much as he liked flouting the rules, life was more important to him.
All the while, the professor was babbling about the different races. That was just ridiculous. Of course he knew everything about gnomes already, and the rest were... Well, he'd find out from his new party soon enough, wouldn't he?
Some people had already moved in front of the portraits. Well, he had best get a move on it, too, then. He moved down the row and stopped in front of Kyra. It was a bit strange standing before a cleric who's ideals he didn't quite match with, but he supposed it was the cleric-ness that mattered more than anything else. He looked down the line to Lem. He had already downed the potions he thought would help with being a cleric, but it still wasn't too late yet. No, he thought looking back at the cleric. Sivanah was better than any bard any day. So it was with a smile that Xavian finally touched his hand to the cleric's symbol.
Zaigou ignored the others, focusing his attention to the drinks, and quickly began mixing them together, completely disregarding the poisons as he had intended. Altogether, the combined potion was rather substantial, but as was his way, he learned to chug, and chug he did. Downed the hole lot in one go. And regretted it in the same vein.
As soon as the mixed brew touched his lips, he could feel the changes violently etching their way through his body. His body gained a few inches, and he grew narrower, his muscles shrinking and becoming more taut, less bulky. The changes were excruciatingly painful, and he couldn't do anything but grip the wall tightly as it changed, but that was the worst of it. The changes to his mind were less severe. Considerably easier to handle.
He felt his perception and understanding of the world widening, growing. He could grasp philosophies he hadn't before. He noticed things even in his memory that he'd never paid attention to, only after realising their importance. He recognised when friends and family had lied to him. He observed many things that had never noticed, and found himself slightly depressed at his failures in the past. The rest of the mental changes were similar. When his intelligence rose, so did his understanding of the things he'd learned in the past. All of his old school teachings that he never understood made sense. Lastly, his charisma increased, which was interesting and painful in a strange sense. His skin smoothed out, his eyes grew brighter, his hair darker, his teeth whiter, and his comprehension of language and interaction in society. Everything became clearer.
And then it was over. Zaigou straightened himself out and looked around the room, noticing everything within. He heard the professor's order and without hesitation did as bid, placing his hand on the rogue's mark.
It took a few moments after each had touched the symbol for Babar to speak up, "Good. You have all taken your potions, to varying degrees. Next comes the strange part." It was after this, he closed his eyes for... maybe ten seconds. When the feline opened his eyes again, his pupils were missing. He began to chant, winds blowing throughout the area: and each student noticed that their hand was stuck to the symbol, unable to be removed. With the final incantation of this chant, the world flashed out in heat and the color white...
Celir
...You find yourself in a comfortable area, foreign to you. It seems like a hunter's lodge, now that you get a good look at it. There is a warm fire in the fireplace, and out a window you can see snow falling. The smell of freshly-cooked game enters your senses... followed by the smell of tobacco and tea. You realize you aren't alone, and a man swirls in his chair to greet you. Clearly dwarven, he seems to judge you in a gruff manner, before his face brightens a great deal. You see warmth in his eyes, and he gestures for you to join him.
"So. You're tha young lady I'll be teachin' the ways of the ranger to. I'll be honest wit ye, I didn' 'spect anyone would take up tha path willin'leh." He puffs at his pipe, nodding, "I'm Harsk, by tha weh. Let's 'ave a meal an' yeh 'kin tell me 'bout yerself." Which is what you did, really. While the conversation is quiet at first, eventually Harsk lightens up and adds in comments while you eat. After that, you get up and get to training.
The next month passes by in a blur, as Harsk takes you out into the snow to hunt in the early morning, bringing you back and teaching you combat from the safety of the hunting lodge in the evening. He is a strict teacher, though he does not scold for a poor job, he often says nothing at all about it. Somehow, that only encourages you to meet his expectations in hopes of receiving praise. The dwarf stops acting like a teacher or tutor and begins to act a lot more like a doting grandfather figure, ending evenings by cooking up and eating what you and he hunted in the day.
However, after the month passes, he places a heavy hand on your shoulder, telling you it's time to part ways. You've learned all he can teach you, the rest you have to work on your own. You're not sure, but you can almost feel the sorrow in his voice from having to part so suddenly. It's confirmed a moment later when you catch a tear fall into the old dwarf's beard. He gives you a tight hug...
Ayala
...You hear the light sound of laughter nearby. Your eyes open in a temperate forest, and you rise to all four of your legs. Your senses become afire with sounds and smells you have no names for, and you rush forward to look at yourself in a reflective pool of water. A wolf stares back at you: it doesn't take long for you to realize that the wolf is you. "Well, 'bout time you showed up!"
A clever voice makes you spin around, and a green-haired gnome reclines on a massive snow leopard. She walks over with a great happy smile, "You're the new druid? Welcome, welcome!" She applauds you for a moment, before gesturing at your form, "Wolf spirit, eh? Loyalty, senses and a natural sort of wonder... I suppose it's got a bigger role in what's to come. I've always had Droogami at my side, so I suppose I haven't had the chance to explore the canine side of this..." A huff sound emits from the snow leopard, prompting the gnome to turn around, "Oh, hush!" She spins on her heel back around, patting you on the head, "I'm Lini! C'mon, there's so much I want to show you!"
You spend a week with Lini, most of the time wandering the forest, Lini showing off a few of the more beautiful places. Waterfalls flowing over cliffsides, massive lakes, underground caverns with glowing fungus, the very height of mountaintops, soaring above the clouds themselves... All the while, she talks about plants, animals, and weather. After a while, you begin to appreciate what it means: why you're a druid. To defend these natural areas from despoilers... after that week, however, Lini guides you to a surprise... a pack of wolves in the forest. It's there that you and the druid part ways.
The wolf pack takes you in for a year. You run with them, and they offer a great deal of guidance: more than Lini did. After a few nights, you begin to feel the call of nature brimming in your very soul, giving you power beyond what you could imagine. It is the druid spellcraft that you bring to the wolf pack, healing the wounded and bolstering their power with your own. You hunt alongside them, and bolster friendships among them. After a few months, you actually forgot you had been an elf at all. It's not until the day comes, a year later, when the pack is forced to say goodbye. The moon shines bright among the pack, and they tilt their head back in a mournful howl...
Xavian
...You feel the rays of the sun along your face, as you slowly open your eyes to a darkly-tanned woman in the colorful clothes of a priestess of Sarenrae. You realize you're sitting on what's left of a pew in a broken church. The woman, kneeling and praying before a rusted holy symbol of the sun goddess, turns and looks to you. She walks over, kneeling once more to bring herself to your own height. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Kyra." She leans forward, greeting you with a kiss to your forehead. She rises, "You've got a good heart. Not a lot of people can walk the path of a cleric... devoting oneself to a deity seems so foreign to so many, but they don't realize something very important..."
She walks away, gesturing at the holy symbol of Sarenrae, "The gods are not some infallible manipulators playing chess with reality. A few of them are, but not all. It's in the gods best interest to keep the races of Golarion alive and happy, too. You see..." She turns, nodding to Xavian, "The gods will cease to exist without worshipers. Without them, the concepts that they stand for, and the powers they have bestowed, will vanish. Our communication with the gods is symbiotic: they need us as much as we need them." She places a hand on her hip, "That's why I worship Sarenrae. The world would be a worse place without her. However... I can see in those clever eyes of yours that you're more interested in another." She winks, "Sivanah, right? Don't worry: it is not the place of a cleric to preach or convert, only to help and teach."
She gestures for you to follow her, and you exit the church into an abandoned, ruined town. As you walk through the town, Kyra tells you about Sivanah and want she expects. She has a great deal of knowledge on religions of all types, and she takes the time to reveal some more truths about the gods. She tells you of the undead, and how to effectively counter them. She tells you how to use your own faith as a flash of energy, capable of healing the living or harming the undead.
As she walks through the ruined village, she picks things up and places it upon you. They are heavy, but you find yourself getting used to it. You follow along after her, asking questions about divine magic, which more often than not receive simple answers with a bit of humor to them. You remember on tidbit of information more than others: "Consider the spells you receive to be gifts given to you by your god or goddess in thanks to your service and prayer. You may actually use these gifts however you wish: enrich yourself or others as you see fit. For the most part, it's expected that someone bestowed with divine magic would better their own lives a little, even if they do it by making the lives of those around them better. That's another possible symbiotic relationship: those around you. It'll often fall on your shoulders to be the glue that keeps people together. That's a heftier responsibility than most, but... well, I have faith you'll handle it."
She smiles, and the short walk ends. She takes the things you had 'carried' for her off. "Sivanah's a very easygoing goddess. It's nearly impossible to offend her... so remember to have fun with the powers she gives you." She brushes your cheek fondly...
Mirella
...You look out over a beautiful city district in Absalom, dressed in your finest clothes. You're standing on an elven-carved balcony, ivy creeping along the white marble in a tasteful manner. Behind you, you hear the muffled sounds of a noble's party in progress. The glass double-doors open, increasing the sound of the party for a moment before they fade away once more. Someone has joined you, and moves forward to lean upon the balcony next to you. The lovely human woman is covered in tattoos that aren't covered by her clothing at all. She turns and smiles to you in that same, knowing manner the portrait had earlier. "Mirella. I'm glad you chose to join me out here."
She gestures back at the party, "They don't understand the pull... the feel of your blood afire when you cast a spell. Not from study, but from natural ability. You have that natural ability..." She snaps her fingers, a book coming into existence: a massive tome of your own family lineage. She smiles, opening it to a few members and revealing the secrets in your blood. Then, she closes the tome. "I'm afraid that that's really all I can do for you. You see, it's impossible to 'train' someone in sorcery, just reveal to them that they have a talent for it... and you do. You have an advantage over the wizards in their colleges: you don't need special materials to cast, nor do you even need to study."
She taps at her head, "What you need is imagination to craft the magic in you into effects..." She then moves to tap at her heart, "...and emotion - the will to do so." She continues, "It's also very important that you control your urges. Magic is addictive, as is power. You've got both, and the potential for a whole lot more. Don't let it go to your head, eh?" She nods, stepping back. "I've got a party to finish, though..." She opens the door, before snapping her fingers, "Oh, yeah! One more thing: try to open up to those around you. Magic isn't entirely trusted, and a very powerful and close-lipped individual has issues gaining allies. Pretty much just generates fear, which gets jumpy adventurers after you." She tilts her head back in a laugh, slowly closing the door...
Aurok
...You smell fine incense, billowing from a censer nearby. You're in some sort of courtyard, filled with loose sand and large rocks. Planks of wood create bridges across the rocks, and strange plants grow from the sand. A foreign style of building surrounds you in all four directions. You notice a man with a shaved head sitting in a cross-legged position upon one of the rocks. He's smiling, eyes open in your direction. "Ah, my new pupil." He rises to his feet, offering you a bow, regardless of your status as a half-orc. "My name is Sajan. You may call me 'teacher' while we are here. It your desire to learn, and it is my desire to guide you on the path of a martial artist."
Lightning-quick, he aims a kick at your head. Instinctively, you raise your arms to block it. Sajan flips back, landing on one of the raised platforms, "A lifetime of abuse has made self-defense a part of your very nature. Now, we will act add a way of life to your natural prowess. I do not seek to remove your rage, no: that rage is a strength that only those of your blood can muster. My goal will be to temper that, focus it so that you may turn it into a productive force."
You begin with the teachings of Sajan's old master. The martial style of where the monk had grown up, when he was used as a soldier. The ruthless, bone-breaking trials and exercises of a tyrant regime and constant injury, followed by healing. There was little wisdom in the style, Sajan explains, but it was the basis that he learned, himself. Sajan is mostly silent through this time, neither encouraging or discouraging acts or displays of emotion. After a year, however, when Sajan has given you all he learned of his old style, and introduced you to his new method of combat and training.
A great deal of meditation is involved. Sajan teaches attacks that incapacitate an opponent rather than destroy them. Defense becomes a greater part of the teachings, and each exercise or attack taught had both an offensive and defensive use. He trains your attack speed and your ability to dodge, and keeps your mind sharp through mental exercise, supplementing the training through herbal remedies. Another year passes and he tells you that the final part of this training is the most difficult:
Dressing you up as a wandering peasant, you leave the monastery behind and begin to walk upon the path. Beset by bandits, monsters, and other trails along the way, you begin to realize that the path that you're taking is entirely random. You enter various towns, participating in bar brawls with drunken sailors, gang wars against villainous youths, and combats against trained soldiers on leave. All the while, you refine what you've learned from the two styles taught, and it begins to evolve into a new style.
When you return to the monastery, you find yourself under attack immediately by Sajan. The fight is extremely long: lasting eight entire hours, with the monk changing his style every hour. You realize that each style is something you came across on your journey. With a final unexpected strike, you end the fight with Sajan, before dropping in exhaustion. Between breaths, Sajan congratulates you, "You have... done very well... I have taught you... all I can... Remember always... your training..." He rises wobbly to his feet, bowing one final time to you...
Zaigou
...You find yourself pulled into an alley, a feminine voice hissing, "Hold on, are you trying to get yourself killed?" The woman from the portrait looks around, then back at him. Her face lights up, elven features perking, "Oh. You're..." She smiles, "Sorry, I thought you were someone else. I'm Merisiel." She nods, and you begin to notice other things about your surroundings: in particular, the smell of salt water. "Say, you look like you might be able to hold your own." She pushes and prods at you a bit, before nodding approvingly. "Alright, it's settled, then. You're coming with me, and we're going to make you into something." She nods, turning and running away. You find yourself running after her.
The next week passes in a flash. The two of you work as partners, finding each other working to the other's strengths. Gambling, second-story jobs, pickpocketing, the whole works. Once the two of you have a good pile of gold saved up, Merisiel takes you aside and notes her approval at what you can do... and then begins to offer pointers. You find she's not actually the best at explaining things, and say you're better at learning by doing anyway. She likes that, and you start once more... this time, against experienced targets.
Merisiel explains that there's a war going on. Her presence in town is actually to sabotage, spy, steal, assassinate, and otherwise make a nuisance of herself against the army she's opposing. You find yourself joining her, getting a crash-course through the finer arts of the profession. Where to stick a knife to make it hurt most, how to find and disable the defenses placed against you, opening locks and taking their contents. It was going very well, until one night...
It was supposed to be a simple spy mission. Listen to the conversation between an enemy general and a supposed defector. However, your position was given away: a traitor had exposed you and Merisiel's presence, and how were forced to run for your lives. You ended up using every trick you knew, helping each other along rooftops, taking down guards in the way, sliding under moving carriages and sprinting as fast you can: you knew, if you got caught, you'd be killed. You're chased across the entire town, from one side to the other, until you find yourselves on the docks, within sight of the boat intended to take you to safety. For a moment, you feel like you're going to make it.
Until soldiers begin to file from the boat. Merisiel and yourself find yourself trapped on all sides. You turn and make your way into a building, climbing to the top of it in an effort to make it to the rooftops. You hear a scream behind you, and Merisel falls, clutching at a crossbow bolt clearly piercing her knee. At the bottom of the stairs stands a cruel-looking man holding the crossbow: the general you were spying on. Blood rushes to your ears, and you hear Merisiel shouting at you to run...
...When the world returns, leaving you with memories of your time there. It seems no time has passed, and Professor Babar sits upon his desk, eying everyone in a curious manner. He says nothing, waiting instead for them to recover from the powerful magic.
Celir gave the dwarf a tight squeeze with a blink. When her eyes opened again, she was staring up at harasks portrait. She bit her lip as her eyes watered a bit. She already missed the ranger. She let her fingers slowly trail off of the symbol and down the wall before her arm went back to hanging at her side. She cleared her throat before she looked over at the professor. She looked around at the others before she glanced back at the cat.
"What just happened?" She asked, wondering if she had just met the real Harask, or if what she had just done had been a fancy illusion. She shifted slightly, her senses much more alert. She almost felt confined in the room. She missed the scent of tobacco tea and roasting game. She reached up and again, pushed her hair behind her ear. She really should braid the bangs into the braids dangling next to her face.
"You've experienced a very rare magical effect: a universal spell tied to a spell-completion magic item." The Professor states, before clarifying, "The spell is so rare that these portraits are the only source of it in all of existence. Woven together with every school of magic, it's was made possible for you to alter time on a very personal level, interacting with the very real people those portraits were of, using the memories they recorded in their Pathfinder Chronicles as a conduit and a focus. Those symbols each meant something important to them, though few knew why until you met them: it was what brought you to them."
The Professor nods, allowing that to sink it a moment, gesturing with a paw, "Magic... is a very strange thing. It's powerful, and while it's mainly thought of a source of destruction..." He bows, "It is a constructive force as well. It has brought you all, through obstacles of time and reality, closer to these men and women so decorated and honored by the Society. In a way, it is through you that their legends will live on."
Blinking, Aurok was now back in that room from a couple years ago except...he had never left. He was looking at his hand place flat against the symbol, then up at the portrait of Sajan, his teacher. Aurok still felt tense from the long fight but it was fading into dull aches from the potions he had drank just a couple minutes ago. That had been a long fight, of the others could have seen him now, they would be forced to treat him differently.
Aurok was proud, but there was a pain in his heart, he wanted to stay at the monastery rather than come back to this place. But he knew it couldn't be, not now. He let his hand slide down off the symbol and fall back to his side and he turned around to face the Professor. The way he looked was very much the same as he did before, except he held himself differently and his movements were graceful.
He turned around and face Babar, wondering what could be next.
Ayala howled along side the pack, she didn't want to leave and say good bye she wanted to stay. As her vision shifted and once again became the school her howl bounced off the walls instead of echoing through the trees, she bowed her head holding back watery eyes she still had the heavy weight of sorrow in her chest as she looked around the room. With a sigh she looked over at the professor with a slight pout and wonder as to what happened. She tried to stand but became a little light headed and fell against the wall with wobbly legs, it was very much different standing from four legs to two. Ayala wondered if she would ever see the wolves and Lini with her leopard again and get used to the changing.
Did he blink? Just in case he hadn't, Xavian blinked. Kyra, the cleric, was gone. In her place was her picture, but he could still remember quite clearly what she had taught and what she had said about Sivanah. Before he could wonder too much himself, however, he heard a voice across the room speak his question and the professor's answer. He took his hand away from the symbol, and looked at his hands and then at the cat. So had that just been an implanted memory or had it actually happened? Xavian looked at his palms again and the backs of his hands. Maybe it didn't matter too much. What mattered was that he could recall what happened. Looking around, he saw that the others seemed to be returning back to this reality from whatever reality they had just visited. And as he looked around he couldn't help but reconsider the words Kyra had said about responsibility.
"All right," he said somewhat unsteadily, finally dropping his hands to his side. "Well, that was all right," he said, nodding, as if clarifying what he had meant. "So what she taught me... Can I do that here? Now?"
"You can, yes." The Professor continues, "You've spent some time being taught what you can do. I do fear, however, that rushing you into the next part might be harmful to your health. So let's consider this a bit of a recess. You've gone through a lot in the span of twenty minutes... though it might seem like more time to all of you. Having your bodies and mind altered on a fundamental level." The professor nods, "We'll go over resistances and battle when you return from your recess. After that, I intend to go through the Society's listed jobs and sent you on a few entry-level, easy ones. Probably with me along for support... Though I have every bit of confidence in all of you, it helps to be safe with younger folks."
The feline gestures with a paw, causing the door to open. The young noble-dressed man from earlier enters, "You all met Culver at the door, did you not?" The youth offers a nervous bow to them, "He'll show you to your quarters. You may take the next four hours to do whatever you see fit to do. Might I suggest you get to know each other a little better?"
Culver turns to the group, gesturing for them to follow him. He turns and heads out the door, "So, you're all... well, you all started down the..." He pauses, flustered, "You've got powers now, right? Above the normal man or woman. Adventurers?" The youth turns back to look at them for a moment, before leading them to an indoor garden. A glass roof blocks out a perfectly sunny day, a magically-induced breeze rustling the plants. Culver leads them around the outside, revealing that the other doors lead to different rooms, "Feel free to choose whichever you like. As far as I know, they're identical. Some of your belongings will be given to you, along with what we're assuming you'll need for your... professions."
He offers an apologetic smile, "If you'd like, I'd be happy to answer some questions about the school and the other folks working here. Professor Babar is the only teacher, but he's hardly the only one here. There's two folks in charge of supplying the opponents you'll be combating in your training, for instance: a conjuration specialist, Anna Chondra. She's skilled at summoning in powerful organic creatures to combat. The other is Jenn Spanners, and she's from Numeria. You know, that weird nation with the mountain that fell from the sky? She creates golems... sort of. She says they're "clockwork" and don't require the binding of an elemental, but that's... really rather neat, I think." He shrugs, smiling.
"Other than the two, there's the groundskeeper and cook, Kyle Scarletti. Rumor is that he's not actually human, but some manifestation of mischief, since he's normally responsible for weird things that happen. 'All for the cause of a laugh', he says." Culver shakes his head with a chuckle, "Finally, there's Cinna Volcar. He's the Professor's apprentice, all the way from Taldor. He fancies himself an 'arcane squire', and considers himself a champion of chivalry and valor. He's honest about that desire, and it's my sincere hope he keeps it when he grows up."
Culver pauses for a bit, "Oh. I suppose there's me, too. I'm just 'Culver'. I'm the Professor's familiar."
They were going to b shown their rooms and would possibly be getting to know each other. Aurok was personally going for a mental rest. He wasn't listening too intently, just enough to hear the names of the other teachers what they did, and about their rooms and being provided with equipment that would match their chosen path. He made a mental note of the two teachers providing combatants by both of their different means, Anna Chondra and Jenn Spanners. Conjuration and....Artification? Aurok wasn't sure the term for the latter but he'd pay a visit to both of them sometime.
The one thing that really got his attention was Culver. Now Aurok was no mage but he knew some very basic things about magic. Aurok's voice rumbled from the back of the group "Is that possible?" he eyed Culver and tried to recall every detail he had noticed about him, and the new details he learned. "You are human?" he said with some skepticism.
