Magella's early life was spent in bowed reverence to the goddess Shelyn's messages of love, beauty, art, and music above all else. As a child she felt drawn to these feelings, understanding the simple messages of her parents' faith as law. Of course, the protection of art and other living things seemed to be the obvious way people should behave.
This unerring devotion to her goddess's teachings was seen by many in her community as incredibly naive, and the local children would tease and chide her for her pure heart and belief that others would see in her the teachings of Shelyn, and come to the light of her love by that. Magella never preached or proselytized, but chose to instead serve as an example of goodness and expression. Her chosen forms of art at a young age were simple wooden carvings and poetry. As she grew, her interest in exposing this poetry to the world grew as well, but rather than singing it like some members of her congregation chose, she decided to scrawl this poetry on the walls of the city, taking Shelyn's message to the streets. Her beautiful calligraphy and artistic displays of faith came to earn her a bit of a reputation. One day while working on a particularly involved depiction of one of her favorite hymns from the Melodies of Inner Beauty, the holy text of the church of Shelyn, she was discovered by one of the clerics of her congregation. In an attempt to channel her energies toward a more lawful expression of her holy impulses, this cleric chose to take Magella in as his apprentice.
Quickly, her skills as a battle-ready instrument of faith became apparent. It seemed, indeed, that Shelyn had a chosen emissary for spreading her gospel, but that Magella may actually be used more as a fist of the faith than a mouthpiece. Realizing this, the clergy of her congregation prepared a proposal for Magella's parents: Enter her into the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers for more seasoning in adventuring, so as to help grow her survival skills. Her parents flatly refused.
Unfortunately for them, though, Magella had already come around to the side of the church in this debate. Working with the head of her now-former church (her parents had already started attending services out of a neighbor's house rather than associating with a "bloodthirsty sect" of their religion), Magella created a scheme wherein she pitched the idea of a clergy apprenticeship with another church of Shelyn, across the city from her their previous church. Contacts within the clergy worked out different contacts for Magella's parents so they could keep her parents from learning the truth: Magella would indeed serve as the closed fist of Shelyn against her enemies, and would receive extra training in this from the PSYCHE academy.
Within the academy though, Magella's... quirks... were still an issue with the class in general. However, this led her to forming tight bonds with some of the less-appreciated youths in her class. In particular, she was fond of Raiden, a large half-orc boy whose gold heart shone through his otherwise intimidating exterior, and of Graceela, a young gnomish prankster who had quite possibly the funniest jokes Magella had ever heard.
Showing posts with label PSYCHE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PSYCHE. Show all posts
Friday, September 19, 2014
Yume Bloodstone
Yume Bloodstone's earliest memories are running in a field with her mother, emulating some of the squire boys she had seen by wearing discarded armor she'd found in their camps, trying to learn the hunting and trapping skills her mother employed so easily. Of course, this was harder for her due to the inflexibility of her armor, but over time she learned techniques to compensate for it.
At the age of 12, Yume's mother received a message from her biological father, a human man from the city of Absalom. He had been selected to help teach in an academy within in the city, an academy designed to keep the Society of Pathfinders from dying out as the wildlands grew ever stronger. Yume's mother had indeed noticed more demons in the area, and stronger ones as well. Could it be true that the Worldwound had opened further? Or worse, were the demons winning the ever-lasting Mendevian Crusades? Either way, the idea of moving to an actual human settlement was not something that Yume's mother much liked, but keeping her daughter safe called for any and all precautions to be taken.
Arriving in Absalom, Yume was instantly taken in by the charm of the massive City at the Center of the World. She felt immediately at home, although she would steal through the gates at the drop of a hat to enjoy the woods on the other side of the walls. Between two worlds, she grew up beautiful and tall, proud and strong, and her father had her entered into the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers just as soon as she was able to. To his dismay, her peers looked down on her instantly. Professor Bloodstone was known as one of the surliest, toughest professors in the academy, due to his serious nature and stern reactions to any horseplay. This drove his daughter from the more popular student body toward the group of outcasts that had bonded together. Frustratingly enough, this group also contained his least favorite student, a wise-cracking gnome who seemed to constantly be laughing at the administration of the academy that he felt so graciously allowed her to attend classes, despite her advanced age.
Outside of classes, Yume was blessed and cursed with an otherworldly appearance, which made most humans at least slightly uncomfortable. They would gawk and stare, trying to decide whether she was uncommonly pretty, or just... "off." This feeling of otherness drove her closer to her band of misfit friends.
At the age of 12, Yume's mother received a message from her biological father, a human man from the city of Absalom. He had been selected to help teach in an academy within in the city, an academy designed to keep the Society of Pathfinders from dying out as the wildlands grew ever stronger. Yume's mother had indeed noticed more demons in the area, and stronger ones as well. Could it be true that the Worldwound had opened further? Or worse, were the demons winning the ever-lasting Mendevian Crusades? Either way, the idea of moving to an actual human settlement was not something that Yume's mother much liked, but keeping her daughter safe called for any and all precautions to be taken.
Arriving in Absalom, Yume was instantly taken in by the charm of the massive City at the Center of the World. She felt immediately at home, although she would steal through the gates at the drop of a hat to enjoy the woods on the other side of the walls. Between two worlds, she grew up beautiful and tall, proud and strong, and her father had her entered into the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers just as soon as she was able to. To his dismay, her peers looked down on her instantly. Professor Bloodstone was known as one of the surliest, toughest professors in the academy, due to his serious nature and stern reactions to any horseplay. This drove his daughter from the more popular student body toward the group of outcasts that had bonded together. Frustratingly enough, this group also contained his least favorite student, a wise-cracking gnome who seemed to constantly be laughing at the administration of the academy that he felt so graciously allowed her to attend classes, despite her advanced age.
Outside of classes, Yume was blessed and cursed with an otherworldly appearance, which made most humans at least slightly uncomfortable. They would gawk and stare, trying to decide whether she was uncommonly pretty, or just... "off." This feeling of otherness drove her closer to her band of misfit friends.
Graceela Silvershaper
Graceela Silvershaper was born in a place much different from Absalom. About as different as a place can be on this plane of existence, truly. She was born in an underground home to gnomish magical tinkerers in the countryside of Andoran. As such, she has been practicing the arcane arts for quite some time now. It was always said of her family that someone must have primal roots, considering the familial penchant for the arcane arts. This is, in fact, true. Somewhere in her bloodline, one of Graceela's ancestors found themselves enamored of a fire elemental, and its arcane powers still course through her family tree, manifesting themselves in some generations of her family.
In fact, she herself discovered this one day while out with her father. They were exploring territory close to home after a torrential rain, when suddenly a great owlbear appeared before them, driven from its home by the rising waters. Calmly, her father muttered a few ancient-sounding words and raised his hands. With a flick of his wrist, a great cone of fire erupted from his hands, scorching the feathers of the owlbear and sending it screeching into the woods from whence it came. Ever since that day, Graceela promised herself she would learn to control the strength living within her blood.
As a gnome, her propensity for wanderlust, deep curiosity, and desire to master odd or esoteric skills and languages made her a natural adventurer. Without realizing it, as she grew older she found herself ranging farther and farther from her home, until one day she ended up at a small harbor town on the Inner Sea. Here, she saw all manner of people coming and going on boats out across a seemingly never-ending sea, and in the taverns she heard tell of a city at the Center of the World, the city of Absalom.
There would truly be someone there that might be able to assist her in understanding her magic abilities, she thought, and boarded a ship headed to the city.
In Absalom, her naturally curious nature led her to the Pathfinder Society's Grand Lodge. Because of her youthful gnomish appearance, her love of gamesmanship, and emotional volatility, members of the society took her as a youth, and enrolled her in the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers upon learning of her thirst for adventure. She decided to go along with it. She liked the young humans better anyway -- they were less dreadfully serious and boring, and could follow her fun tales and silly rhymes.
Panian Graveltoes
Panian. A name known round the districts as belonging to a real talker, what he lacks in height he makes up for boasts, tricks, and secrets. Always curious and always stealing away from being caught red-handed, Graveltoes made a bit of a name for himself as a youth by playing tricks on the local clergy of Cayden Cailean's "temples," such as they are. This was perfectly in the spirit of The Drunken God's disciples though, these few worshiping spaces typically doubling as local after-hours speakeasies, ordering more sacramental wine than all of Iomedae's temples twice over, making Panian's tricks even easier for the halfling, and even more approved of by his fellow Cayden devotees.
As Panian grew, though, his stealthy nature started to turn to a more... financial boon than when he was younger. Sure, sleight of hand "magic" tricks would earn him a copper or two in the streets while he was younger, but he started to learn that secret-trading would earn him more silver or gold to line his coffers with. Being a halfling, some of the citizens of Absalom would treat him poorly -- "he was, after all, only half a man..." -- and so this sort of disdain for his kind started to affect him, causing him to turn to less law-abiding means to find justice against the discrimination he and his kind face. In a city like Absalom, a halfling never knows what wrong turn may end them up in shackles, being sent off as slaves for Chelaxian owners. This kind of fate is something Panian has absolutely no interest in, so it seemed obvious to him that the best way to protect himself would be to sign up with the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers.
The day before his 18th birthday, his little sister was taken by slavers. Drawing on his growing network of contacts within Absalom, he was able to track the trader who had captured her's whereabouts, but found that he had already placed her on a ship bound for Cheliax. Panian watched the trader cracking jokes with other slavers in a tavern by the harbor, like a lion might stalk its prey before attacking. Because of the general habits of humans to not look down, and his comfort in and familiarity with the shadows, Panian was able to pass undetected and wait for the trader to retire to his room in the inn for the night. At this point, Graveltoes entered the inn behind another patron, stole into the halls, and picked the lock, silently, on the door of the slaver's room. Panian didn't wake the trader before playing the man's throat like a violin using his dagger.
As Panian grew, though, his stealthy nature started to turn to a more... financial boon than when he was younger. Sure, sleight of hand "magic" tricks would earn him a copper or two in the streets while he was younger, but he started to learn that secret-trading would earn him more silver or gold to line his coffers with. Being a halfling, some of the citizens of Absalom would treat him poorly -- "he was, after all, only half a man..." -- and so this sort of disdain for his kind started to affect him, causing him to turn to less law-abiding means to find justice against the discrimination he and his kind face. In a city like Absalom, a halfling never knows what wrong turn may end them up in shackles, being sent off as slaves for Chelaxian owners. This kind of fate is something Panian has absolutely no interest in, so it seemed obvious to him that the best way to protect himself would be to sign up with the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers.
The day before his 18th birthday, his little sister was taken by slavers. Drawing on his growing network of contacts within Absalom, he was able to track the trader who had captured her's whereabouts, but found that he had already placed her on a ship bound for Cheliax. Panian watched the trader cracking jokes with other slavers in a tavern by the harbor, like a lion might stalk its prey before attacking. Because of the general habits of humans to not look down, and his comfort in and familiarity with the shadows, Panian was able to pass undetected and wait for the trader to retire to his room in the inn for the night. At this point, Graveltoes entered the inn behind another patron, stole into the halls, and picked the lock, silently, on the door of the slaver's room. Panian didn't wake the trader before playing the man's throat like a violin using his dagger.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Introduction
Greetings, adventurers, and congratulations!
The spring is upon us and with it comes another graduating class of would-be heroes and heroines from the hallowed halls of the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers, eager and willing to explore the great world of Golarion and all that comes along with it -- mostly, treasure, fame, and evil in need of smiting!
This year, as with seemingly every passing year since the start of the Age of Lost Omens, the number of graduates has dwindled to a mere 20. Rumors around the city have begun circulating that the world outside the walls is just too dangerous to submit youths to -- the monsters have become too powerful in the wake of Aroden's death, the animals themselves growing larger and more resolute in their ownership of the wilds, and rumors of evermore chaotic and evil forces rising from long-forgotten places. Only a paltry few remain who even know of the Pathfinders' academy, and fewer still who talk about its purpose in a glowing light. You, young fortune-and-fame seekers, are proud to count yourselves among those few. While most of your schoolmates have gone into apprenticeship in the workforce, trying to carve out a living as cobblers, blacksmiths, shopkeepers, etc., you've joined the ranks of those who one day hope to consider themselves Pathfinders.
Of course, no matter the size, 10-10,000, any group has its outcasts. This, friends, is where you find yourselves. A group of five, united by fate, separated from the rest of your class for various and sundry reasons, whether it be due to your age, your height, your skin color, or the prejudices others have learned from their parents about your heritage. Some of you may feel this pressure actively such as Raiden, (Rogue name), (Sorcerer name), and (Ranger name), others passively (Cleric name), and have, in the past, expressed your feelings toward this in your own ways. Over the course of your education at PSYCHE, though, you've come to recognize counterparts and cohorts in the other adventurers in your social group, and have learned to stick together in and out of class.
This brings us to the present. It is currently one week prior to your graduation ceremonies, an increasingly modest affair, no longer met by trumpeting throughout the main thoroughfares and streamers but instead a warm gathering of those closest to you, and your teachers from the Society wishing you well on your adventures. In the lead-up to your ceremony, the campus of the academy is closed in preparation for the graduation. Although the public may not take as much pride in the Society as they once had, the Society itself is a proud organization, and is prepared to pull out all the stops for its newest members. Because of this though, your lot finds itself a bit restless. Four days ago, the gods seemed to echo your restlessness with a strong earthquake north of the city in the Cairnlands.
Shortly following the last of the aftershocks, your innate curiosity gets the best of you, and you all decide that it'd be best if (Rogue name) poked around the academy to see what (he/she) can find out. Meanwhile, (Cleric name) asks (his/her) clergy if they know of any disturbances beyond the walls that your crew might handle. Your team is able to find a few things out in this:
The spring is upon us and with it comes another graduating class of would-be heroes and heroines from the hallowed halls of the Pathfinder Society's Youth Chapter of Heroic Explorers, eager and willing to explore the great world of Golarion and all that comes along with it -- mostly, treasure, fame, and evil in need of smiting!
This year, as with seemingly every passing year since the start of the Age of Lost Omens, the number of graduates has dwindled to a mere 20. Rumors around the city have begun circulating that the world outside the walls is just too dangerous to submit youths to -- the monsters have become too powerful in the wake of Aroden's death, the animals themselves growing larger and more resolute in their ownership of the wilds, and rumors of evermore chaotic and evil forces rising from long-forgotten places. Only a paltry few remain who even know of the Pathfinders' academy, and fewer still who talk about its purpose in a glowing light. You, young fortune-and-fame seekers, are proud to count yourselves among those few. While most of your schoolmates have gone into apprenticeship in the workforce, trying to carve out a living as cobblers, blacksmiths, shopkeepers, etc., you've joined the ranks of those who one day hope to consider themselves Pathfinders.
Of course, no matter the size, 10-10,000, any group has its outcasts. This, friends, is where you find yourselves. A group of five, united by fate, separated from the rest of your class for various and sundry reasons, whether it be due to your age, your height, your skin color, or the prejudices others have learned from their parents about your heritage. Some of you may feel this pressure actively such as Raiden, (Rogue name), (Sorcerer name), and (Ranger name), others passively (Cleric name), and have, in the past, expressed your feelings toward this in your own ways. Over the course of your education at PSYCHE, though, you've come to recognize counterparts and cohorts in the other adventurers in your social group, and have learned to stick together in and out of class.
This brings us to the present. It is currently one week prior to your graduation ceremonies, an increasingly modest affair, no longer met by trumpeting throughout the main thoroughfares and streamers but instead a warm gathering of those closest to you, and your teachers from the Society wishing you well on your adventures. In the lead-up to your ceremony, the campus of the academy is closed in preparation for the graduation. Although the public may not take as much pride in the Society as they once had, the Society itself is a proud organization, and is prepared to pull out all the stops for its newest members. Because of this though, your lot finds itself a bit restless. Four days ago, the gods seemed to echo your restlessness with a strong earthquake north of the city in the Cairnlands.
Shortly following the last of the aftershocks, your innate curiosity gets the best of you, and you all decide that it'd be best if (Rogue name) poked around the academy to see what (he/she) can find out. Meanwhile, (Cleric name) asks (his/her) clergy if they know of any disturbances beyond the walls that your crew might handle. Your team is able to find a few things out in this:
- The earthquake mostly affected the Cairnlands, and luckily no one within the city was harmed.
- There were a few old ruins affected by the quake, including a ruin called the Fallen Fortress, rumored to have been sealed by magic centuries ago to keep whatever was entombed within it. Now, the whole front of the fort has caved in, allowing entrance... and exit.
- Three days ago, one of the Pathfinder Society members entrusted with your education, a wily bard by the name of Balenar Forsend, had been sent out to find out what he could about the Fallen Fortress, and has yet to return, despite the trip being only 10 miles roundtrip, hardly a full-day's journey. Members of the Pathfinder Society are trading whispers of something befalling him, but also express a cautious optimism, and seem resolved to give Balenar a week to return before setting up a search party.
Fearing that the worst possible fate could have befallen Balenar, Raiden makes the suggestion that he may need assistance, and rather than waiting the week recommended by the Society, this would be an excellent opportunity for you to make your mark as a successful, new Adventurers Guild.
Our story picks up here, with our heroes and heroines sitting in a pub near the edge of the Wise Quarter.
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