Champions Of The Magnaverse: Stream

Name: Stream
Alignement: Chaotic 7, Neutral 4
Class: Druid (World Walker) Lvl. 1
Deity: She-Who-Shines
Homeland: The Clockwork Jungles Of Ferrailles
Race: Gondul (Outsider, Native, Construct, Automata)
Size: Small
Gender: Female (Psicological)
Age: 4 Earth Years (Adult)
Height: 0.99m
Weight: 15.88kg
Skin: Copper (Plating)
Hair: Jet Black (Connective Rubber)
Eyes: Amber (Glow Light)
Associated Melodies: "Scrapping Beat" from RockMan X Alpha-Lyla Arranged OST (Main Theme), "Fortress Tower" from RockMan X Breis Arranged OST (Battle Theme)
Ability Scores: STR 14, DEX 18, CON --, INT 13, WIS 17, CHA 12
Hit Points: 15 (1d8[8], +6 Racial, +1 Favored Class)
Armor Class: 21 (10 Base, +4 DEX, +1 SIZE, +2 NATURAL, +4 DEFENSE)
Touch Armor Class: 19 (10 Base, +4 DEX, +1 SIZE, +4 DEFENSE)
Flat-Footed Armor Class: 17 (10 Base, +1 SIZE, +2 NATURAL, +4 DEFENSE)
Damage Reduction: 2/- (Armored Core Clockwork Modification)
Speed: 40ft. (8 sq.)
Initiative: +4 (+4 DEX)
Saving Throws: 
* Fortitude +2 (+2 CLASS, -- CON)
* Reflex +4 (+0 CLASS, +4 DEX)
* Will +5 (+2 CLASS, +3 WIS)
Base Attack Bonus: +0
Combat Maneuver Bonus: +1 (+0 BAB, +2 STR, -1 SIZE)
Combat Maneuver Defense: 15 (10 Base, +0 BAB, +2 STR, +4 DEX, -1 SIZE)
Attacks: Metal Club +3 (1d4+2 or +3 if 2handed, 20/x2, Melee/10ft, Bludgeoning)
Skills: 
* Bluff +1 (+1 CHA)
* Climb +6 (+2 STR, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Craft - Clockworks +9 (+1 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +2 RACIAL, +2 TRAIT)
* Diplomacy +1 (+1 CHA)
* Handle Animal +5 (+1 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Intimidate +1 (+1 CHA)
* Knowledge - Geography +5 (+1 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Knowledge - Nature +8 (+1 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 TRAIT, +2 NATURE SENSE)
* Perception +7 (+3 WIS, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Profession - Athlete +7 (+3 WIS, 1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Survival +12 (+3 WIS, 1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +2 NATURE SENSE, +3 SKILL FOCUS) (Conditional: +2 for searching food and water)
Languages: Common, Ferran, Sylvan, Druidic
Feats: Skill Focus - Survival (Character Creation)
Traits: Artisan (Social), Child Of Nature (Religion), Sacred Touch (Faith)
Drawbacks: Attached (Aurika)
Racial Features: Automata Construct Immunities, Clockwork Modification (Armored Core, General Knowledge), Fortified Frame, Low-Light Vision, Sentient Mind
Special Abilities: Burst Of Speed (8 Speed Points) [Racial], Metal Fist [Domain]
Class Features:
* Nature Bond [Metal Domain]
* Nature sense
* Wild Empathy
Base Spell Save DC: 13 (10 Base, +3 WIS)
Spells:
* Orizons (DC 13, --/day): Create Water, Detect Magic, Detect Poison, Flare, Guidance, Know Direction, Light, Mending, Purify Food And Drink, Read Magic, Resistance, Spark, Stabilize, Virtue
* Level 1 (DC 14, 2/day, 1/day domain spell): Abstemiousness, Air Bubble, Alter Winds, Ant Haul, Aspect Of The Falcon, Bristle, Burning Disarm, Call Animal, Calm Animals, Charm Animal, Cloak Of Shade, Cure Light Wounds, Damp Powder, Deadeye's Lore, Decompose Corpse, Detect Aberration, Detect Animals Or Plants, Detect Snares And Pits, Detect The Faithful, Diagnose Disease, Dream Feast, Endure Elements, Entangle, Expeditious Excavation, Faerie Fire, Feather Step, Flare Burst, Frostbite, Goodberry, Hairline Fractures, Hide From Animals, Hydraulic Push, Jump, Keen Senses, Liberating Command, Longstrider, Magic Fang, Magic Stone, Negate Aroma, Obscuring Mist, Pass Without Trace, Produce Flame, Ray Of Sickening, Read Weather, Remove Sickness, Restore Corpse, Shillelagh, Snow Shape, Speak With Animals, Stone Fist, Summon Minor Ally, Summon Nature's Ally I, Touch Of The Sea, Weaken Powder, Whispering Lore
Inventory: Metal Club (1.5lbs), Engineer's Kit (4lbs), Druid's Kit (33lbs)
Total Load: 38.5lbs. (Light)
Capital: 120 GP
Fame: 2 (+1 HD, +1 CHA)
Sphere Of Influence: 100 miles/1 Hex (Plondhar)
Honor: 13 (+1 HD, CHA 12) [Tribal Code]

BACKGROUND

          Like most gondul, Stream owes her name to the first definition that she assesed on her own. As she was born on the metal islands spread across the rainbow seas of oil in Ferrailles, the first thing she withnessed was the gentle flow of the ubiquitous fluid and the many colors the sky furnance would bestow upon it's surface and, while she never learned to swim properly, she certainly enjoyed the sensation the texture of oil brought to the ever spinning cogs and wheels inside her body as well as the pretty gloss it left on her curved copper frame. This self-rapture would often trouble Stream pattern models, who were far more concerned about she learning to develope her creativity for part designing than her capacity to ponder upon her own beauty since, after all, they had a position to keep on the relatively monolithic economical structure of Plondhar.

          Nevertheless, Stream demonstrated to have chosen her name wisely, as she turned out to be unruly and unpreditible as the tide itself, showing talent for many things, yet settling in none. One of the paths which took the best portion of her interest was, however, sports, as the hobby in question made her to constantly put on use every single function her body could muster, something she enjoyed greatly. Because of this, Stream made herself well known as a modestly reknown athlete on Plondhar and won several competitions and challenges, which made her to consider seriously the idea of becoming limit tester instead of a part designer, much to the dismay of her pattern models, who would have prefered she to stay a designer. But things would change soon.

          One day, while avoiding her duties once more, Stream found herself alone in the fringes of the unworked areas of Plondhar, once again, taking delight on the sheer pleasure of exploration and experience. Strange sounds, like none she had heard before, caught her attention and drove her further into the wilderness until she found a huge creature lying on the ground. The being, resembling some sort of mechanical breed of wolf and puma, was badly damaged and was clearly beyond it's power to attack anything. Somehow moved by the sad state of such a formidable creature, Stream approached to see if she could do anything for it, but before she could lay a hand on it, the creature move it's head to see Stream eye to eye, and a pair of beams of glowing golden light came out from it's eyes, striking directly into the ones of Stream. Seconds that seemed an eternity: Stream heard a hundred of dialogues rushing unto her mind as her body burned, yet she could grasp only but a fraction. There was no evil intent on the creature, only despair, and an inherited will to protect sentience, perhaps proper of their kin, which touched on the deepest reaches of Stream's therma-torque. When the gondul came back to her senses, the creature was alive no more, it's sentience departed, it's body but a magnificently shaped carcass of metal. However, her body beared a keepsake of the event in the form of shapes and carvings and shadings on her plating, like some sort of tribal artist had painted over her with abandon and, when she came back with the others, they saw this as a portent, an strange omen beyond their grasp.

          On those days of confusion and mystery, Stream found solace on the company of the gondul mystic Aurika, who provided a measure of spiritual guidance for the girl where reason was lacking in answers. With the aid of Aurika, Stream abandoned bit by bit the fear of losing what she was, replacing it with the expectation of what she could become: something new and never seen before among her kin, a thing that many found alluring enough to try their luck in approaching Stream in a more personal way. Nevertheless, this attempts ultimately failed, as Stream was far more concerned with the boons that had been bestowed upon her and a growing attachment for the only guide she considered reliable enough to pay heed. Still, the path before Stream was yet vague and hard to distinguish, but things would come to pass that would solve such doubts for her eventually.

          The answer, pretty much like the question, came on an unlikely fashion. It was at first floating in the sky in the form of a bird of steel, only to twist and turn on itself until it had the shape of a gigantic man which crashlanded without much grace in the middle of Plondhar. It had sentience, yet he paid no mind to the salutation of the gondul, and only demanded under the authority granted to him by a title bestowed by lords unknown to Stream or her people. The gonduls knew that in the distant regions of Ferrailles there were strange shapeshifting giants, but their knowledge of them was nebulous and mostly compound of tales for children. But Stream, oh, Stream: she knew, and well. One of the boons of the grand beast has been a knowledge upon things she couldn't muster at will, a knowledge that expressed like divine inspiration, comming to her when it was needed. Now, it came to her in a flash of inherited rage, a feud as old as the scaffoldings of Ferrailles itself, and yet resumed in a single couple of glyphs: a pair of symbols that summarized an epic of life and death, of genesis and destruction, of slavery and freedom. As she glanced now upon the marks on her body, she felt how they called her to action, telling her that truth was undeniable and that, now, she too was part of that story. As the giant departed with threats upon not being granted what he looked for, Stream told her people that the giant would come back and, most likely, not alone, even if it didn't found what he wanted, and would turn them all to slaves, if not worse. At first, most disscredit the chaotic Stream, but when she shown them that she had found the giant and their kin had made a nearby camp to prepare for full scale invasion, nobody doubted the gondul any longer, specially when she said she knew how to defeat these formidable warriors from afar, and she wasn't lying.

          That night, the bravest gonduls of Plondhar followed Stream and, together they caused a mayor havoc on the enemy base, gaining Stream enough time to steal something precious from the enemy. Many of Stream's companions were destroyed that night, as the brave and little gonduls fought against giants with bravery and resolve of legend, but not even such a tragedy took away the pleasure from Stream's therma-torque as she saw the foe writhe and suffer and slow and painfull death of a cruelty only the beings made of metal could ever experiment. It was a night of burning plasma, a night of avenging ghosts that have made Stream their own agent and executioner, a night of reckoning and, since then, many came to fear what the gondul had turned in, even herself. Only Aurika would look at her as always and she came to be the world to Stream, who was compelled, upon the departure of the former into Delliany, to follow the mystic for she knew that, as long as she remained with her people, the giants would come back again and again, for it was her what they were looking for or, better said, what she had been granted.

-"I didn't chose this fate, but it is now upon me: freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Be that I want it or not... I am part of this war."

Stream, World Walker.

Editor Notes:

* Character stats using the Ultra Elite Array (17, 16, 14, 13, 12, 10).

* Race based on the Goldün Automata from the Rhun Campaign Setting. More information in "Automata - Guide To The Awakened".

* Character background created with the Background Generator System found on Ultimate Campaign.

* Background Generator Results: 

- Cirsumstance Of Birth: Middle-Class Birth

- Parents Profession: Artisans

- Major Childhood Event: Competition Childhood

- Druid Background: Spirit Of Nature

- Influential Associate: The Mystic

- Conflict: Armed Robbery

- Conflict Subject: Civic or military official

- Conflict Motivation: Pleasure

- Resolution: Mixed Feelings

- Deity and Religious Philosophy: She-Who-Shines

- Romantic Relationships: Several Inconsequential Relationships

- Character Drawback: Attached (Person)

* Defense Modifier based on a variant of the Defense Points System from D&D 3.5 Unearthed Arcana.

Champions Of The Magnaverse: Deck

Name: Deck (Addel Rayndel "Deck" Lmujan Wedel)
Alignement: Chaotic 9, Evil 7
Class: Bard (Magician) Lvl. 1
Deity: "Luck"
Homeland: The Forests Of Grontsvalg, The Known World, Delliany, The Writer's Cosmosphere
Race: Gnome (Humanoid, Gnome)
Size: Small
Gender: Male (Physiological)
Age: 46 Earth Years (Adult)
Height: 1.00m
Weight: 17.69kg
Skin: Light Yellow
Hair: Lavender
Eyes: Amethyst
Associated Melodies: "Riku" from Kingdom Hearts 2 OST (Main Theme), "Sinister Shadows" from Kingdom Hearts 2 OST (Battle Theme)
Ability Scores: STR 08, DEX 14, CON 14, INT 16, WIS 13, CHA 19
Hit Points: 11 (1d8[8], +2 CON, +1 FAVORED CLASS)
Armor Class: 19 (10 Base, +4 ARMOR, +2 DEX, +1 SIZE, +1 DEFENSE, +1 DODGE)
Touch Armor Class: 15 (10 Base, +2 DEX, +1 SIZE, +1 DEFENSE, +1 DODGE)
Flat-Footed Armor Class: 16 (10 Base, +4 ARMOR, +1 SIZE, +1 DEFENSE)
Damage Reduction: None
Speed: 20ft. (4 sq.), 15ft. (3 sq.) [Weight Encumbered]
Initiative: +2 (+2 DEX)
Saving Throws: 
* Fortitude +2 (+0 CLASS, +2 CON)
* Reflex +4 (+2 CLASS, +2 DEX)
* Will +3 (+2 CLASS, +1 WIS)
Base Attack Bonus: +0
Combat Maneuver Bonus: -2 (+0 BAB, -1 STR, -1 SIZE)
Combat Maneuver Defense: 10 (10 Base, +0 BAB, -1 STR, +2 DEX, -1 SIZE)
Attacks: Fireball Wand (Reflex DC 15, 4d6 Fire, 560ft, Energy, 50 charges)
Skills: 
* Acrobatics -1 (+2 DEX, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE)
* Appraise +3 (+3 INT)
* Bluff +9 (+4 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 RACIAL)
* Climb -4 (-1 STR, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE)
* Craft - Sculpting +3 (+3 INT)
* Diplomacy +9 (+4 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 RACIAL)
* Disguise +4 (+4 CHA)
* Escape Artist -1 (+2 DEX, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE)
* Fly -1 (+2 DEX, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE)
* Heal +1 (+1 WIS)
* Intimidate +8 (+4 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS) (Conditional: +2 to Demoralize)
* Knowledge - Arcana +8 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 MAGICAL TALENT)
* Knowledge - Local +10 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +2 RACIAL, +1 TRAIT)
* Knowledge - Nobility +7 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS) 
* Perception +3 (+1 WIS, +2 RACIAL)
* Perform - Act +9 (+4 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 TRAIT)
* Ride -1 (+2 DEX, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE)
* Sense Motive +1 (+1 WIS)
* Spellcraft +8 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 MAGICAL TALENT)
* Stealth +3 (+2 DEX, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE, +4 RACIAL)
* Survival +1 (+1 WIS)
* Swim -4 (-1 STR, -2 ARMOR PENALTY, -1 ENCUMBRANCE)
* Use Magic Device +9 (+4 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +1 MAGICAL TALENT)
Languages: Common, Gnome, Sylvan, Tengwar, Iokharic, Khuzdul
Feats: Dodge (Character Creation), Improved Counterspell (Class Bonus)
Traits: Focused Mind (Magic), Shadow Whispers (Religion), Talented (Social)
Drawbacks: Avarice (Drawback)
Racial Features: Academician, Gift Of Tongues, Gnome Magic, Illusion Resistance, Keen Senses, Low-Light Vision
Special Abilities: Gnome Magic [Racial]:
* (1/day, CL 1, Base DC 15) Dancing Lights, Ghost Sound, Prestidigitation, Speak With Animals
* +1 DC in Illusion Spells
Class Features:
* Magical Talent
* Bardic Performance (10 rounds/day; Distraction, Dweomercraft, Fascinate)
Base Spell Save DC: 14 (10 Base, +4 CHA)
Spell Points: 1 (+1 CLASS)
Spells Known:
* Cantrips (DC 14, 0 SP): Detect Magic, Flare, Haunted Fey Aspect, Read Magic
* Level 1 (DC 15, 1 SP): Chord of Shards, Summon Monster I
Inventory: Chain Shirt (12.5lbs), Bard's Kit (25.125lbs), Fireball Wand (0.06lbs), Entertainer Outffit (1lbs)
Total Load: 38.685lbs. (Medium)
Capital: 180 GP
Fame: 5 (+1 HD, +4 CHA)
Sphere Of Influence: 100 miles/1 Hex (Grontsvalg)
Honor: 20 (+1 HD, CHA 19) [Political Code]

BACKGROUND

          Many gnomes across The Known World believe in the legend of "Deck", a sort of eternal trickster whose origin is as shrouded in mystery as his whimsical deeds. As such, Deck is no hero of legend nor a spirit of ill omen but the incarnation of the fickle and whimsical spirit of luck which, just like in a game of cards, sometimes smiles at you and sometimes laughs at you regardless of how grimm your fate is. Because of this, no sane gnome would ever even think on trying to pull a prank on Deck if such a reknown (or, sometimes, infamous) character was to cross his path, and all gnomes know that is the wisest to stay on Deck's good side, even if such proves to be DIRELY hard sometimes.

          The truth behind the legend, however, is that Deck is as real as flesh and bone, but has not being one person but many across many hundred years, a sort of mantle taken from master to apprentice and, in some instances, from father to son. Despite this, Addel didn't knew that he was the son of the previous Deck until very recently, when fate revealed by itself to him. Born when the Lmujan Circus Caravan was settled on Grontsvalg, Addel considered the evergreen forests as his home, despite the fact the caravan was always on the move and that he spent most of his childhood learning how to juggle balls and play with cards than rolling or tumbling on the hills. It was no simple life for a child to learn from so young how to trick the senses into believing what was not, but gnomes are natural illusionists and their knack for trickery runs deep on their fey ancestry. Nevertheless, using so much the word "magic" for every single trick and act he was taught, Addel couldn't help but to wonder about the real power of real magic and, so big grew his interest that, as soon as it was possible, and without a word, he left the Lmujan Circus Caravan and headed to Antigo-Terra in the hopes of learning the secrets of the arkane arts from the ancient snakefolk.

          Upon his arrival, Addel was dissmayed when confronted with the sheer elitism the proud snakefolk handle with such a grace and found himself visiting the libraries for days to teach himself, at least, the most basical cantrips with which to prove the skeptical examiners that he had the talent they demanded as an entry requirement. This activity, however, took it's toll on the resources of the gnome, and he soon found himself in the need to try the trade of his parents in order to keep his self teaching, finding out how harsh can be an audience comprised by the amaru. Largely unsuccessfull and in the verge of begging in the streets, Addel's luck changed dramatically when he was spotted by a human soldier working for a wealthy amaru mistress who was on the looks for "something odd and unlikely", which the soldier thought matched well with Addel's current state. Since then, things changed foor good... and worse.

          The stay at the Zimbhel Manor was a transforming experience for Addel in many senses for, as the amaru are known for their occassional excesses, Mistress Zimbhel pushed such to unusual limits. A self-claimed "Sampler Of Experiences", Mistress Zimbhel mind was as inexcrutable as deadly, for in a moment it could by giving away a seizable part of her fortune for the wellfare of the hob-goblin war orphans, and the next she could be sentencing an innocent servant, loyal to her for decades, to be burnt alive to amuse her guests and herself. As such, Addel learned that he had to be ALWAYS on the good side of his mistress and to make her laugh was the best way to achieve it, turning in something in-between her personal buffoon and pet in order to survive. It was evident Mistress Zimbhel was out of her mind, but she was far from stupid, and the presence of Addel was beyond mere entertaining: as innocuous and entertaining as he seemed, Addel could listen to conversations the mistress couldn't out of good manners since the guests regarded Addel as either an odd pet or a meaningless pest. On those years, the gnome learned too much about how the pinnacles of society worked, about how a single whisper could ruin legacies and even empires but, also, that nothing is new forever and that, more and more, his need to please his master was pushing him to do more and more questionable acts of sheer cruelty upon others just for the sake of staying alive, finding out that he too could derive a measure of real and palpable pleasure when he could be "Lady Luck's Executioner". So he had to execute his masterpiece prank soon, and the moment was about to come.

          It was the perfect occassion: Mistress Zimbhel had thrown a party for many of the wealthiest and haughtiest of her kin. As soon as the music began, doors and windows sealed, and parts of the floor opened and closed randomly. The unfortunate who fell in the sudden pits were consumed in a fiery display of fire. Horrified, many tried to scape, but not Mistress Zimbhel: she knew who had done this and, actually, she enjoyed it in a rather twisted blend of outrage and exctasy as she pushed with abandon several of her guests to the fiery pits, which she dodged gracefully, guessing right that the pits followed the rythm and steps of a frantic waltz. When the doors opened with she as the only survivor, she came out calmly, one would say almost placid. Before her was Addel, and both looked at each other in silence for a minute that seemed eternal, both smiling at each other. No love, no hate, but evil. Mistress Zimbhel was delighted to have found someone who could understand the beauty of life, expressed in the moment of horror in which it is cherished the most. However, evil cannot suffer itself, and she, perhaps instinctively, knew she couldn't let someone like her to go on living, and Addel knew it too. Nothing the gnome could conjure in that moment would suffice to defeat his mistress and he knew her grasp was beyond scaping, so he stood there before her. The amaru slowly took out her wand and aimed at Addel, apologizing with her usual charm about the inevitability of things, to which Addel limited to point out that the wand was held in reverse, so Mistress Zimbhel thanked the gnome an instant before reducing her own head to cinders. It was mere luck on Addel's side: the absent minded Mistress Zimbhel would have the bad habbit of picking things the opposite side and Addel always reminded her to correct it. Who would have guessed, this time, Addel was wrong?

          The gnome wasted no time and seized as much as he could from the fortune of his former mistress and took the wand that saved him along before setting the entire manor on fire. It was no coincende: it was luck's will that he was alive to dispense it and not to be a slave. Luck would show the way and, in the very moment he was to dissmiss such thoughts as part of the maddness of such a night, Addel found, among his things, a bundle that was always there with him, a gift from his father which had eluded him so far. A deck of cards, an ancestral tool to foretell the fortunes and to harness luck itself and, still, it was no mere deck, for the fabled crest of Deck was on it, so he understood, that night, who he was meant to be and why he had suffered for so long: how could he not when he had been walking against his fate? He had been chosen to be part of inmortality and now he embraced it, as a caterpillar disscarding it's old form, and became what he was meant to be: Deck.

-"I feel lucky tonight. Do you?"
Deck, Magician.

Editor Notes:

* Character stats using the Ultra Elite Array (17, 16, 14, 13, 12, 10).

* Character background created with the Background Generator System found on Ultimate Campaign.

* Background Generator Results:

- Gnome Homeland: Forest

- Gnome Parents: Both Of Your Parents Are Alive

- Gnome Siblings: None

- Cirsumstance Of Birth: Lower-Class Birth

- Parents Profession: Entertainers

- Major Childhood Event: Academy Training

- Bard Background: Cultural Mandate

- Influential Associate: The Liege Lord

- Conflict: Mass Murder

- Conflict Subject: Soldier/Warrior

- Conflict Motivation: Pleasure

- Resolution: Secret Regret

- Deity and Religious Philosophy: Luck, Shadow Whispers

- Romantic Relationships: Experience But No Subtantial Relationships

- Character Drawback: Material Wealth

* Defense Modifier based on a variant of the Defense Points System from D&D 3.5 Unearthed Arcana.
* Spells/Day conversion to Spell Points as it appears on D&D 3.5 Unearthed Arcana.

Champions Of The Magnaverse: Urana

Name: Urana (Vnieda Lythoanna "Urana" Lygal Cmelae)
Alignement: Lawfull 1, Good 1
Class: Paladin (Divine Defender) Lvl. 1
Deity: Garl Glittergold
Homeland: The Forests Of Grontsvalg, The Known World, Delliany, The Writer's Cosmosphere
Race: Gnome (Humanoid, Gnome)
Size: Small
Gender: Female (Physiological)
Age: 46 Earth Years (Adult)
Height: 0.99m
Weight: 15.88kg
Skin: Persian Indigo
Hair: Aureolin
Eyes: Sunglow
Associated Melodies: "Pietro Skip" from Popolocrois OST (Main Theme), "Feel My Blade" from Final Fantasy IX OST (Battle Theme)
Ability Scores: STR 12, DEX 10, CON 18, INT 12, WIS 13, CHA 19
Hit Points: 14 (1d10[10], +4 CON)
Armor Class: 25 (10 Base, +9 ARMOR, +2 SHIELD, +0 DEX, +1 SIZE, +3 DEFENSE), (Conditional: +2 Dodge Bonus when in Forest Terrain)
Touch Armor Class: 14 (10 Base, +0 DEX, +1 SIZE, +3 DEFENSE), (Conditional: +2 Dodge Bonus when in Forest Terrain)
Flat-Footed Armor Class: 25 (10 Base, +9 ARMOR, +2 SHIELD, +1 SIZE, +3 DEFENSE)
Damage Reduction: None
Speed: 20ft. (4 sq.), 15ft. (3 sq.) [With Armor]
Initiative: +0 (+0 DEX)
Saving Throws: 
* Fortitude +6 (+2 CLASS, +4 CON)
* Reflex +0 (+0 CLASS, +0 DEX)
* Will +3 (+2 CLASS, +1 WIS)
Base Attack Bonus: +1
Combat Maneuver Bonus: +1 (+1 BAB, +1 STR, -1 SIZE)
Combat Maneuver Defense: 11 (10 Base, +1 BAB, +1 STR, +0 DEX, -1 SIZE), (Conditional: +1 VS Trip)
Attacks: Heavy Spiked Steel Shield +2 (1d4+1, 20/x2, Melee, Bludgeoning)
Skills: 
* Acrobatics -7 (+0 DEX, -8 ARMOR PENALTY, +1 TRAIT)
* Appraise +1 (+1 INT)
* Bluff +4 (+4 CHA) (Conditional: +1 VS Opposite Gender)
* Climb -7 (+1 STR, -8 ARMOR PENALTY)
* Craft - Woodcrafting +1 (+1 INT)
* Diplomacy +8 (+4 CHA, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS), (Conditional: +1 VS Opposite Gender, Shaken for 1 round upon failure)
* Disguise +4 (+4 CHA)
* Escape Artist -8 (+0 DEX, -8 ARMOR PENALTY)
* Fly -8 (+0 DEX, -8 ARMOR PENALTY)
* Heal +5 (+1 WIS, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Intimidate +4 (+4 CHA)
* Perception +3 (+1 WIS, +2 RACIAL)
* Perform - Oratory +4 (+4 CHA)
* Profession - Woodcutter +7 (+1 WIS, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +2 RACIAL)
* Ride -8 (+0 DEX, -8 ARMOR PENALTY)
* Sense Motive +5 (+1 WIS, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Stealth -4 (+0 DEX, -8 ARMOR PENALTY, +4 RACIAL)
* Survival +1 (+1 WIS)
* Swim -7 (+1 STR, -8 ARMOR PENALTY)
Languages: Common, Gnome, Sylvan, Elven
Feats: Improved Shield Bash (Character Creation)
Traits: Charming (Social), Inspired (Faith), Log Roller (Regional)
Drawbacks: Dependent (Drawback)
Racial Features: Bond To The Land, Keen Senses, Obsessive, Magical Linguist, Low-Light Vision
Special Abilities: Magical Linguist [Racial]:
* (1/day, CL 1) Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Message, Read Magic
* +1 DC in Language Dependent Spells, +2 in Saving Throws VS Language Dependent Spells.
Class Features:
* Aura Of Good [Faint]
* Detect Evil (At Will)
* Smite Evil (1/day)
Inventory: Full Plate (25lbs), Heavy Spiked Steel Shield  (7.5lbs), Paladin's Kit (22.5lbs), Soldier's Uniform (5lbs)
Total Load: 60lbs. (Medium)
Capital: 300 GP
Fame: 5 (+1 HD, +4 CHA)
Sphere Of Influence: 100 miles/1 Hex (Grontsvalg)
Honor: 20 (+1 HD, CHA 19) [Chilvaric Code]

BACKGROUND

Urana

Born to the name Vnieda Lythoanna, Urana saw the light for first time at the forests of Grontsvalg, at the center of The Known World, while her mother was actually seeing it for the last time. Her parents hadn't the slightest hint of what was going to be the future of their daughter when she was brought to life, but the first thing they knew was that her life wasn't going to be easy for, while gnomes sport skin hues that run the rainbow gammut, Urana had been granted an unlikely persian indigo which, while as exotic as alluring, it also brought to the mind and memory of many the image of the hated drow, and many mistook the little child for an unclean affair with the elves of the dark deeps, even when the girl was bereft of sin or taint. Nevertheless, the fact the child had no siblings and that the her mother had passed away during childbirth only made it all more suspicious, and it drove the sensible girl to seek solace in the company of the creatures of the wild and on her own solitude.

          Silently isolated from the rest, Urana eagerly learned the trade of her father as the girl fancied on her mind adventures of valor and great deed while the heads of vicious dragons rolled down with each chopped wood, just like in the tales her father would tell her before going to bed. So full was her mind of such stories that, now and then, other younglings of a far less prejudicing nature would come to her just to hear the stories she was told, embellished with an endearing, and sometimes comical, dramatization from her part. After all, she had learned that it was better to make people laugh with her than laugh at her or, worst even, be scared of her. However, this wouldn't save her from the eventual return of solitude to her life, as faces came and went but, in the end, it didn't mattered how much Urana tried to make that new friendship to last a bit longer and go a bit deeper: she was "Black Vnieda, The Drowy". But, after years of solitude, for once, things changed.

          One day, Urana found herself trying to make use of an old wagon wheel that had been disscarded by her father while replacing it for a new one, a common happenstance on his trade as carpenter and lumberjack. While not exceptionally gifted as a woodcrafter, Urana was a gnome lass as any other respectable one, and no gnome is truely bereft of a little artistical streak on themselves, even if such streaks take a rather subtle expression. As such, the girl was trying to see how she could turn the old wheel into something usefull by bending some it's parts, which she had already turned into a pair of handles, thought she wasn't actually sure of what she was trying to achieve. Suddenly, a cry for help made her dart into it's direction, only to find a young gnome boy facing two armed kobold thugs. The boy had very slim chances of surviving, as a cliff was behind him, and the kobolds were comming closer. Urana had no time to alert anybody, not even to bring the axe of her father, so she grabbed the old wheel she had at hand on one arm and charged with all her strenght, aiming for one of the kobolds. Taken by surprize, the kobold was hit squarely by Urana, plunging into the cliff. Not wasting a minute, the other one threw himself over Urana, enduring blow after blow with the old wheel until she finally pushed back her foe. Putting herself between the kobold and the boy, the wheel almost completely ruined now, Urana held her ground and her heart aflame spoke with a bravery unknown to her until now.

-"Bone shatters, wood splinters and flesh fails... but the will of the brave endure the hammer of titans! You can break my shield, but not my resolve! Come! COME!!!"

          Nevertheless, the sound of people arriving at the scene prompted the cunning creature to fly the scene in a haste as Urana allowed the wheel to fall to the ground to hold her bruised arm. The event became widely commented in Grontsvalg, and Urana became a minor celebrity on those days and fast friends with Gaul, the youngling she defended and who, in utter gratitude, taught Urana how to read and write in several languages for Gaul was, himself, an scribe on apprenticeship. Thanks to him, Urana learned a lot of the bigger world and, dazzled by the romanticism and passion with which the girl used to talk about the great adventures and deeds of the heroes in history, Gaul encouraged Urana constantly to pursue her dreams of glory and to make a tale of her own life. While the idea of being praised by everybody just like Gaul did to her was more than just appealing, Urana still felt she was just a "lumberjack girl" and that, while treasured, her fantasies would remain fantasies forever. Thinking on this made her heart to ache, but it was bareable as long as she could stay by the side of Gaul, whom she came to cherish far more than just a friend in the comming years. So, despite she believing not to be fitt to be the heroine that now Gaul seemed to worship, Urana made use of her newfound fame to help Gaul promote his art and books, donning a knightly armor and shield, and even a real sword as part of her new act of epic storytelling, much to the delight of children. Nevertheless, one who plays with sword carelessly soon finds out why swords are weapons, not toys.

          One day, a few months after Urana's 40th anniversary, the caravan in which Gaul was travelling to return to Grontsvalg was assaulted by kobolds, led by none other than the same kobold who had scaped during Gaul's and Urana's first meeting. Much to Gaul's luck, Urana, unwilling to wait for the arrival of her now lover, had went ahead to meet up with Gaul's caravan, only to arrive in the very moment of the raid. Urana fought alongside the caravan defenders, but it wasn't like the last time, for it wasn't bravery but a different emotion what drove her sword. Something in her squirmed and moved, exhilarated at the raining of blood, at the sensation of power and borderline between death and life, clouding any sense of purpose, of goal, driving her to plunge her bladed weapon like the axe chopping wood back home with such and unholy delight that she couldn't bring her to stop, not even after all of the enemies were fallen, for when Gaul ran to her side, her sword slashed, without discerning friend from foe. It was only when the young scribe fell that Urana came to her senses, the bladed tool of death slipping her grasp, and horror took her heart. She, who everybody saw as heroine, had struck her very own lover.

          After the incident, Urana was never the same. Thanks to avatars of fate, Gaul was alive and well, but his right hand had been terribly injured due Urana's slash, and it would take the gnome several years to recover the fine usage he used to have. Gaul had no ill feelings towards his lover, but Urana found herself unable to face him again. On her mind she had not only soiled the gallant and brave imagery her lover had of her, but the hopes and dreams she had helped create in the minds and hearts of so many along him so, after days of utter isolation, she took a decision and wrote a letter her lover and her people would read once she had departed Grontsvalg to travel the world and become the agent of good and virtue they deserved: not a killer, but a protector of those in need, no sword to take life, but a shield to guard it. From that day on, the gnome forsake all her names only to be known by the simple "Urana", gnomish for guardian.

-"Life is too precious to be taken, a gift of the gods. Who are we to take it? Instead, I think we are here to cherish it and preserve it as the testament of creation's beauty. Isn't that worth standing for?"

Urana, Divine Defender

Editor Notes:

* Character stats using the Ultra Elite Array (17, 16, 14, 13, 12, 10).

* Character background created with the Background Generator System found on Ultimate Campaign.

* Background Generator Results:

- Gnome Homeland: Forest

- Gnome Parents: Only Your Father Is Alive

- Gnome Siblings: None

- Cirsumstance Of Birth: Lower-Class Birth

- Parents Profession: Serfs/Peasants

- Major Childhood Event: Ordinary Childhood

- Paladin Background: Holy Epiphany

- Influential Associate: The Lover

- Conflict: Minor Failure

- Conflict Subject: Tradesperson

- Conflict Motivation: Love

- Resolution: Regret And Penance

- Deity and Religious Philosophy: Garl Glittergold, Divine Warrior

- Romantic Relationships: A Few Significant Relationships

- Character Drawback: Social Acceptance

* Defense Modifier based on a variant of the Defense Points System from D&D 3.5 Unearthed Arcana.

Champions Of The Magnaverse: Pitch

Name: Pitch
Alignement: Lawfull 1, Neutral 6
Class: Wizard (Necromancer) Lvl. 1
Deity: She-Who-Shines
Homeland: The Clockwork Cliffs Of Gyria, Othorian Islands, Delliany, The Writer's Cosmosphere
Race: Gondul (Outsider, Native, Construct, Automata)
Size: Small
Gender: Male (Psicological)
Age: 4 Earth Years (Adult)
Height: 1.11m
Weight: 17kg
Skin: Dartmouth Green (Plating)
Hair: Ultramarine (Connective Rubber)
Eyes: Crimson (Glow Light)
Associated Melodies: "Hollow Bastion" from Kingdom Hearts OST (Main Theme), "Scherzo di notte" from Kingdom Hearts OST (Battle Theme)
Ability Scores: STR 12, DEX 18, CON --, INT 17, WIS 14, CHA 13
Hit Points: 16 (1d6[6], +6 Racial, +1 Favored Class, +3 Toughness)
Armor Class: 19 (10 Base, +4 DEX, +1 SIZE, +2 NATURAL, +2 DEFENSE)
Touch Armor Class: 17 (10 Base, +4 DEX, +1 SIZE, +2 DEFENSE)
Flat-Footed Armor Class: 15 (10 Base, +1 SIZE, +2 NATURAL, +2 DEFENSE)
Damage Reduction: 2/- (Armored Core Clockwork Modification)
Speed: 40ft. (8 sq.)
Initiative: +4 (+4 DEX)
Saving Throws: 
* Fortitude +0 (+0 CLASS, -- CON)
* Reflex +4 (+0 CLASS, +4 DEX)
* Will +4 (+2 CLASS, +2 WIS)
Base Attack Bonus: +0
Combat Maneuver Bonus: +0 (+0 BAB, +1 STR, -1 SIZE)
Combat Maneuver Defense: 14 (10 Base, +0 BAB, +1 STR, +4 DEX, -1 SIZE)
Attacks: Masterwork Quarterstaff "Arc-Kane" +3 (1d4+1/1d4+1, 20/x2, Melee, Bludgeoning)
Skills: 
* Bluff +1 (+1 CHA)
* Climb +1 (+1 STR)
* Craft - Clockworks +9 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS, +2 RACIAL)
* Diplomacy +1 (+1 CHA), (Conditional: -2 VS Different Race/Culture Beings)
* Intimidate +1 (+1 CHA)
* Knowledge - Arcana +7 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Knowledge - Engineering +7 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Linguistics +7 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
* Perception +2 (+2 WIS)
* Spellcraft +7 (+3 INT, +1 RANK, +3 CLASS)
Languages: Common, Khuzdul, Tengwar, Ferran, Gnome
Feats: Toughness (Character Creation), Command Undead (Arcane School Bonus), Scribe Scroll (Class Bonus)
Traits: Eldritch Delver (Magic), Focused Mind (Magic), Tireless Logic (Social)
Drawbacks: Xenophobic
Racial Features: Automata Construct Immunities, Clockwork Modification (Armored Core, Nimble Hands x2), Fortified Frame, Low-Light Vision, Sentient Mind
Special Abilities: Burst Of Speed (8 Speed Points) [Racial]
Class Features:
* Arcane Bond [Quarterstaff]
* Arcane School [Necromancy]: Power Over Undead (6/day, DC12); Grave Touch (6/day)
* Forbbiden Schools: Abjuration, Illusion
Base Spell Save DC: 13 (10 Base, +3 INT)
Spell Points: 4 (+2 CLASS, +1 BONUS, +1 SCHOOL)
Spellbook:
* Cantrips (DC 13, 0 SP): Acid Splash, Arcane Mark, Bleed, Dancing Lights, Daze, Disrupt Undead, Drench, Flare, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Message, Open/Close, Prestidigitation, Ray Of Frost, Spark, Touch Of Fatigue
* Level 1 (DC 14, 1 SP): Cause Fear, Chill Touch, Decompose Corpse, Interrogation, Ray Of Enfeeblement, Ray Of Sickening
Inventory: Arc-Kane (2lbs), Engineer's Kit (4lbs), Spellbook (3lbs), Nebulium Charges x7 (7lbs)
Total Load: 16lbs. (Light)
Capital: 120 GP
Fame: 2 (+1 HD, +1 CHA)
Sphere Of Influence: 100 miles/1 Hex (Gyria)
Honor: 14 (+1 HD, CHA 13) [General Code]

BACKGROUND

Pitch

Originally designed to be an arkane gondul, Pitch was instead sent to become part of the working force in the mines of Gyria, as the resources of the ever expanding clockwork city were running low upon the loss of their portal to Ferrailles, the elemental plane of metal and original homeland of the gondul. Because of this, Pitch pattern models were seasoned drillers, accostumed to dwelling in extreme conditions and heavy duty exploration, and the young gondul learned from them a good deal of things that would serve him on the near future.

          After a year of hard work, Pitch was relocated and rescheduled to follow his original purpose by assisting the Scholar Academy Of Gyria as soon as a new vein of copper was found. There, Pitch met with Sister Aurika, a priest devoted to She-Who-Shines, who caught the attention of the gondul with her deep and wisdomfull insights in the grounds of life and the state of sentience. In time, Pitch developed a crush for Aurika but, while the latter never rejected him, it was clear her thoughts were solely for her divine call. Nevertheless, it was thanks to Aurika that Pitch began to ponder on the dynamics of existance and sentience, prompting him to begin his own research and journey.

          Around a year later, Pitch found himself in the company of the gondul rogue Misshap while exploring the some of the ruins in the lands of the nezumi, seeking for arkane lore of the ancient civilizations the former, and for treasure the latter. Unfortunatelly, the ruins were far from being abandoned, and both were eventually caught by the reclusive serpentfolk, who took on an interest for the automatas and their arkane potential. Pressed into service under the threat of torturing Misshap through systematic dismantling, Pitch was the subject of uncontable tests of his arkane capacity, forced in many ocassions, to act as a living weapon, harming and, often, killing sentient beings, to the point of destroying an entire village in a particular ocassion. It was then that Pitch began to think that only "organics", as his people refered to the beings of flesh and bone, could bear such a capacity for evil. On the last experiment in which he took part, Pitch was made to endure an overload of polarized negative energy which, unsuspectedly, granted him the chance to scape his captors as he managed to overload the machines that were feeding him the energy. Pitch managed to survive the ordeal mostly unscathed but the same couldn't be said for Misshap. With her body heavily polarized as a side effect of the energy release, Misshap body couldn't hold her sentience despite it being physically intact. It was a sort of connundrum: her body was alive but "bereft" of volition, very much like a mindless reanimated corpse. It was the desire to cure Misshap what made Pitch to delve into necromancy to further understand the puzzle and save her. Alas, barely some months after the incident, Misshap ceased to function once and for all without anything the engineers at Gyria could do.

          Enbittered by the loss of his adventure partner, for whom he felt something more than mere fellowship, Pitch further sequestered himself from the world and only Crashy, a former student at the Scholar Academy Of Gyria, kept in contact with him as she was drawn to an idealized concept of the adventuring life of the gondul budding necromancer, specially as he realized the ordeal at the ruins had granted him a measure of power over negative energy. Being an alchemist, Crashy developed the nebulium charges Pitch would use in the future to fuel his necromantic powers, something for which the necromancer was thankfull, but decided to keep to himself, as he began to be fearfull of dragging Crashy or anybody else into the fate of Misshap. As such, the relationship between both became more and more tense with each attempt of Crashy to get closer to Pitch, and a colder and stronger rejection by the part of the latter. Seeing that he could not get ridd of Crashy by simple emotional distance, Pitch decided to put a physical distance in between both and left Gyria in search for his answers alone, where he could not harm anybody else.

-"When does the cold steel becomes vibrant?, When does the aglomeration of parts becomes a whole?, When does movement is no longer a mere effect of physics and becomes animation? When does potential energy ceases to be mere illusion of life to become the bitter song of sentience? I wonder... Could I have saved you? ... Or perhaps there is nothing worth saving anywhere, anytime, life... nothing less impresive than a mere function inherent to matter? ... I wonder..."
Pitch, The Necromancer.

Editor Notes:
* Character stats using the Ultra Elite Array (17, 16, 14, 13, 12, 10).
* Race based on the Goldün Automata from the Rhun Campaign Setting. More information in "Automata - Guide To The Awakened".
* Character background created with the Background Generator System found on Ultimate Campaign.
* Background Generator Results: 
- Cirsumstance Of Birth: Lower-Class Birth
- Parents Profession: Serfs/Peasants
- Major Childhood Event: Academy Training
- Wizard Background: Unquenchable Hunger for Knowledge
- Influential Associate: The Mystic
- Conflict: Destruction
- Conflict Subject: Humanoid Monster
- Conflict Motivation: Pressured or Manipulated
- Resolution: Secret Regret
- Deity and Religious Philosophy: No Deity
- Romantic Relationships: A Few Significant Relationships
- Character Drawback: Race
* Spells/Day conversion to Spell Points as it appears on D&D 3.5 Unearthed Arcana.
* Defense Modifier based on a variant of the Defense Points System from D&D 3.5 Unearthed Arcana.

Final Fantasy - The Rhodium Maiden Chronicles 007: A Hundred Lives, One Me

We meet again, hell on white. I never imagined comming back here, but here I am. *Tch* The memories are comming back, like the disgusting aftertaste of a bitter drink. Is this divine providence, or merely the fickle whim of music in the play of my life? The place I hate the most, the faces I want not to see again, an uncomfortable stay, a less than deserver audience, a meager and laughable production capacity, and possibly lasting repercussions and damage to an overally flawless career: I really hope the earnings are really worth all this investment in the end. If everything goes fine, thought, we will get even for this and everything, my little Buiteflou.

But first, I need to deal with that man. A conceited imbecile who thinks everything can be bought is truely deserver of pitty. How could he dare to put a prize to your existance?! Part of me regrets not having killed him in that very moment, but the bear knows how to play his cards, that I can grant him. We will have to use him, Buiteflou, if we want to get you back. He is a court buffoon, but the buffoon is the one closest to the king always, so he is the key to our wishes, until we get our hands back on that abomination and cast it into the oblivion where it belongs, but not before we use her to grant ourselves what we deserve so rightly, Buiteflou. It couldn't be any other way. Besides, now I have the means to find it. The prize was high, but no prize is too high when it comes to you, Buiteflou. Now, I just need to appeal to the greed of some dimwits to do the gruntwork. Here, I don't think that will be hard. After all, anybody on it's sane mind wouldn't dissmiss the chance to scape this hellhole.

And, speaking of such hideous things, it seems that "thing" has settled in this god forsaken town as well. Isn't this a carnival of cursed ones? I wonder what kind of debauched pleasure does that creature earns from acting out a mortal life she was never meant to have. Could it be that, in the likeness of children, gods also enjoy spending their time indulging in such frivolous enactments? Or is it that she derives glee from realizing how easily she can fool anybody around her and do as she pleases? How sick. And here I am, so gladly accepting the invitation to be part of this freak circus show with a suitable audience of people with the intelligence of a coconut. Is this how low your mamma has fallen to bring you back, Buiteflou? But, it doesn't matter: different to what that bastard thinks, no amount of disscarded pride, of platinium pieces, or material wealth can ever be enough amount to give measure to your value, Buiteflou, and your mamma is gonna do everything it needs to be done to bring you back and ensure the ones responsible for what happened suffer a thousanfold what you had to endure. You can rest assured on that.

But first things first. We need to turn this place in our favor, to our needs, Buiteflou and, for that, we need to deal with that man again. He wants to believe in a world where everything can be bought. Fine: let's make him believe he is right for now. We will play along with his game until the moment is right. The show must go on until the end of this play, my last play.

- Aanval Josie Ploegdogter Ouerigerf, Darfellan Opera Singer.

Final Fantasy - Dungeonscape Chronicles 005: ...A hundred years after.

One hundred years. Today, a life of man ends somewhere in the world, a child is born, and the world, oh terrible world, keeps in motion, bringing new captives to it's cage to feel not so alone amid the voyd of darkness. One hundred years I ceased to be a person to become a thing, a tool, a mere token on a collection of treasures deep in the vault of a beast that posses as a man. Or, is this the beast inside every man of manner and lore, taken shape from a broken mirror shard, to haunt and terrorize the vanity of the elightened minds?

Enlightened minds. *haha* Another self-pleasing term for those who fancy themselves mighty in thought when the body fails. Truth, they say, is their sword and fact their shield. Pittyful fools! What do they know about the truth?! They envision truth as a lady of utter radiance which embraces all that exists in a motherly hug. *haha* Isn't it charming to hear the tales of children? Ah, if they were to face truth for real, even if glancing it upon a mirror, perhaps the stony gaze of a medusa would be found far more appealing to their fragmented minds. And yet, so much is there to learn in the chisseled faces of horror the cursed ones capture for all eternity and often I pondered if this isn't a perfect state of thought. *haha* If statues would lend us an ear and answer our feeble questions, how much could we learn about the truth? But such is not the question here. The question is... can we survive it?

Ah, the truth, the truth. So little have I learned about it here, at the center of a thought of logic and symetry taken form through metal, rock, and wheel. And yet, such mere scraps have served me well, and humility is what I've harvested. Rubbish for the master of this manor of torment, jewels for this living treasure, for all he cares are the doors. Yes, the doors. He cherishes nothing more lasciviously nor more passionatelly, and so I have become his lover. Yes! I confess my sins for I have partaken on such depraved intends and my name might be written in blood all across this nuptial palace, granted shape in the likeness of what makes god and mortal alike. And yet, even when so vainly sat upon the throne of this monument to mortal divinity, the master of this realm knows nothing about the truth beyond his fevered dreams of beastful savagery. He knows nothing about the world of black skies, the endless cliffs of crystal, the pipe valleys of broken chrome, the falls of quantities bereft of object, the eternal dawn of blue, or the slave lords that toil in the unseen beyond our measure of time. But he doesn't knows, nor he cares to know, for he fancies himself an enlightened mind.

*Haha* Perhaps it is a good thing that he doesn't knows... If he were to know, he would come to realize that not even the brave hero can save him nor anybody. Nobody can save you when you are but another brick in the walls of the labyrinth. After all, who can save the minotaur from it's own labyrinth?

- Helwynn, Oread Seer.

Final Fantasy - The Rhodium Maiden Chronicles 006: I Can Hear Your Heart

Khuzhe

Ah, so little to do and so much time. This have to be what people call "the good life". Then again, is very likely many would strongly disagree with me considering the kind of place Roh'Tul is but, personally, I don't care. A good job, good payment, and loads of free time: Isn't what most people want?

Curiously enough, the right answer to that question is "no". "Why?", you may ask. Well, it's simple, actually: most people wish for very different and unique things tied to their different and unique life stories. To put it simply, you can say that "everybody wants for something, but that something is not the same for everybody". This little single fact makes, to a degree, everybody the same as, at the core, it makes everybody to be in the same lane. Everybody is trying very hard to get that "important something" that eludes them and, sometimes, even without knowing what that "something" actually is. In fact, the latter is far more common that you would guess. Regardless if they do know or don't, people will give all they can and all they have to achieve that "important something" that becomes the "theme" of their lives (or to recover it, in some cases). However, almost always, people do not know HOW to get that "important something" or simply lacks the means to get that "important something", what makes their lives miserable at best. After all, can you say you are truely living when you spend more than half the time thinking in how good would it be to be at another place, at another time, or even be someone else? That's where I enter.

You see, like everybody, I want all sort of things. However, while most people think only in what they can see, touch, smell, or taste, I happen to have a liking for such things which nature makes them harder to obtain. Think on it for a moment. You want money, food, health, pleasure, power? One way or the other, all of such can be obtained with the right coin or the right deal, and you know it. Now, I ask you, where can a person buy realization, enlightening, love, or even perhaps true happyness? *Hahaha* You guessed it right: there is no way to buy such, for not even the most powerfull wizards, on their inconmensurable arkane talent, can create an actual potion of any of the stuff I mentioned. In fact, even the so-called "love potions" are nothing but ruses to cloud the mind of the victim into experimenting, temporarily, the sensation of infatuation, but I assume you will agree with me that such is the most distant far-cry of what love truely is. No alchemist, so far, has been able to synthetize the "taste" of a virtuous saint's life, or the exotic reverie of a talented artist when inspiration hits him, or the unmarred and pristine fervour a loving child experiments upon kissing her mother and father. Can you image the taste of such an exquisite wine if moments could be caught on time and disstilled? That's the sort of things I long to collect and, thus, the sort of things I deal in.

I'm no wizard so stoping time is pretty much out of my grasp, even when I do dabble a little bit on the arkane. However, my job is to find out what people truely want and then not just grant it to them, but grant it to them in the right manner, in the right moment, and in the right measure to make it "a moment in the time of your life worth of being remembered for a lifetime". Yes! I'm an artist: the world is my canvas and the people my brushes for painting moments in time, living masterworks that only happen once, yet linger for all eternity! Now, of course, as much as I love my art, is only fair for me to ask something in return, right? After all, making everything happen just as you want it to happen is, sometimes, far more expensive than what you might imagine. Now, I ask you: how much would you be willing to pay to have your most cherished desire fullfilled just as you ever dreamt it, even if just for a little moment? How much would you be willing to give to say that last goodbye, to change that wrong decision, to relive that moment one last time, etc, etc, etc?

Like I said, I am no wizard, so my own powers are limited, but I do happen to know many. In fact, I do happen to know loads of people because, you see, in this job, the first thing you learn to do is to listen to the heart of people. How? *Hahaha* Sorry, but that's one of the secrets of the job, but I will give you a tip, just to show you how much I like you. You see, the heart of people is always talking to the world, is just people, way too focused on the power of words (and, trust me, words DO have far more power than what people can imagine, even the most average and overused word) loose sight of "the words inside the words". Take by example that fine maiden we all have met at least once. She radiates beauty like the sun, and is always gracefull and kind to everybody. Married to a wealthy man and surrounded in luxury, how can she be unhappy, right? But look at her a bit further: have you noticed she never looks at you right in the eyes, as if she was afraid of you to "find out" something? Have you noticed the particular way in which she moves her right arm when she lifts her basket, as if strenght failed her for a brief moment, just like when an arm is sore or wounded?  Have you ever wondered why does she seem to have such a passion when she talks about the free birds in the wild? Yes, my friend: the heart of people is always speaking through words that cannot be heard by untrained ears, and I happen to have such ears. So, I listen carefully and find out what is the desire in the hearts of people and, then, grant them the chance to meet other people who can make their desires possible and, so, a perfect moment in time comes to be. All I ask in return is a little something, a triffle in exchange for an everlasting memory, as I am, as well, trying to make my existance a collection of everlasting moments as much as I can. Sometimes it can be money, other times it can be food, sometimes even pleasure or far more exotic favors. Sometimes, my employer has nothing of interest to me in that moment, so I remind him or her that, one day, I'm gonna come back for my payment, once I decide the fee. After all, why charge for something you do not wish to have in that very moment?

So, since people knows I can get what they want, they have started to call me when two persons can't get what they want from each other. This is far more of challenge than what I mentioned, but is possible. Like I said, in the end, all persons in this world, no matter how rich, poor, big, small, fat, thin, talented, average, or where do they belong, are driven by that little unifying point that makes them all the same: they are all looking for something important and, as long as you know what that something is, is just a matter of creativity. Take, for example, our brand new major. She was looking for a means to get a ready supply of jorium and the lich king's curiosity desires the secrets below the white blankets. Who, do you think, suggested the former major to take a long undefined holiday with his family while auctioning the property rights of Roh'Tul to the wealthy investors of Dressthen? *Hahahaha* You guessed it right. Because of being able to "connect" people in order to make everybody happy or, at least, satified, people have entitled me as a "negotiator", despite the fact I do not negotiate per sé: I simply understand people and, thus, sell connections and solutions.

However, there is one client to who I cannot sell anything anymore. I like to see her as "a masterpiece who abandoned artist and canvas to be free on it's own", which makes me love her and hate her at the same time, because I adore her, but I cannot make her mine like I could do with anybody else. If you ever come to Roth'Tul, you will meet her for sure, and you will understand what I mean, for I helped her achieve that "important something". The difference with the rest, however, lies in the fact that she has made it eternal somehow. A moment frozen in time while still in motion with time: a perpetual state of bliss. I love it because is the epitome of the kind of masterpiece I seek. Yet, I hate it, because I wasn't the one to make it. You could say that "she has beated me to the 1st place cup". Ah, universe is such an irony: to think she had, possibly, the cruelest of all fates among the people that dwells in this forsaken region of the world and, yet, she is the happiest being to dwell in this world and time... *hahaha*

But, enough of me. Let's talk about you. Let me hear what you think and feel. Perhaps... there is something I can do for you. No? *Hahaha* There's no need to be shy. Besides, your heart begs to differ with your words, did you know?

- Khuzhe Trotuar, Turmagan Negotiator.