Rogues of Absalom
Sneakthief with Magical Training
- Tall and lean like most Elves.
- Sea green hair, pale green eyes, self-confident smirk on his face most of the time.
- Pale complexion with an ashen undertone.
Male Elf Rogue (Chameleon) 1
CN Medium Humanoid (Elf)
Init + 7, Senses Darkvision (60’); Perception + 6
AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (+ 3 Armor, + 3 Dex)
Hp 8 (1d8)
Fort + 0, Ref + 5, Will + 0 (+ 2 vs. Enchantment Effects)
Defensive Abilities Elven Immunities
Resistances None; Immunities None
Weaknesses Light Sensitivity
Ranged Shortbow + 3 (1d6; x3; 60’)
Melee Dragnipur + 3 (1d6 + 1; 18-20 x2) Sap + 3 (1d6 + 1 nonlethal; x2)
Space: 5’; Reach: 5’
Special Attacks Sneak Attack (+ 1d6)
Str 12, Dex 17, Con 11, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 14
Base Attack + 0; CMB + 1; CMD 14
Feats Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse
Skills (ACP – 1): Acrobatics +6, Appraise + 7, Bluff + 6, Diplomacy + 6, Disable Device + 6, Disguise + 6, Intimidate + 6, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) + 7, Knowledge (Local) + 7, Linguistics + 7, Perception + 6, Profession (sailor) + 4, Stealth + 6, Use Magic Device + 6
Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, Elven, Sylvan, Undercommon
Traits Focused Mind, Magical Knack (Magus)
SQ Arcane Focus, Armor (Light), Elven Magic, Finesse Training, Keen Senses, Misdirection (1), Weapons (Rogue)
Favored Class: Magus
Armor: Studded leather
Weapons: Shortbow, arrow x20, grapple arrow; Dragnipur (Black Blade Rapier), sap
Mundane Gear: Backpack (blue book [Absalom], flint & steel, glue paper x5, ink & pen, parchment x10, spellbook [6/100], thieves’ tools), bandolier (chalk x5, glass cutter), bandolier (), belt pouch (), belt pouch (), hip flask (cheap whiskey)
Wealth: 9 cp, 4 sp, 1 gp
Stored: bedroll, blanket, canteen, chalk x5, crowbar, drill, ear trumpet, folding pole, gear maintenance kit, grooming kit, hammer, rope 50’
I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I understand even less of why you’d want to hear it. However, as it seems I have no choice, this is my story.
You may call me Rake.
I was born aboard my parent’s ship, the Waveracer. My family and their retainers are self-described explorers, scholars, and traders. They are all exemplary people and, when I stop to think about it, I miss them.
Growing up on a ship constantly at sea was interesting for awhile. It’s like living in a tiny village where everyone is basically family. There’s a lot of good that comes from an atmosphere of such love and support. Of course, there’s no privacy. At all. No secret stays hidden long aboard a ship. I didn’t much care for that aspect of ship life.
By far, the best part of living aboard a ship is the ports of call. It’s easy to think that one dock district is the same as any other, but it is not the case. Each port has a distinct personality. Unfortunately, we rarely stopped anywhere and when we did, we never stayed long. Mostly my life was the sea: waves, sun, and storms. My family seemed to be able to find joy in this life. After a century, I found I needed more.
You probably don’t know this, but every Elf (except the ones who have given up or lost that which makes them an Elf) spends their life looking for their Brightness. You could describe the Brightness as a personal calling or destiny, but I assure you, it’s much more than that. The point is, that after a century aboard the Waveracer, I was certain I’d never find my Brightness there.
I knew I had to leave my family and the ship, but I was still young (by Elven standards) and my parents would probably insist on keeping me aboard the Waveracer for another twenty-five years! So, when we finally made port in Absalom again (the largest city we ever stopped at), I left a note for my parents and friends and lost myself in the city. I’m sure my parents tried to find me, but Absalom is so vast, how could they hope to find me.
So, yes. That’s how I came to be in Absalom. I ran away from home. It was much more than that. I was not some willful Human teen rising an emotional wave towards disaster. No, I had real purpose. Absalom was where I knew I could find my Brightness. I could feel it somewhere among the teeming masses of the city.
Although I had been planning my defection for a bit more than a year, I completely underestimated how difficult it would be to find my Brightness. I burned through most of the coins I’d saved in much less than the year it had taken me to save it. And still my Brightness eluded me. I can tell you this much, living homeless on the streets was not my calling.
Most of the skills I’d learned aboard the Waveracer were of little use in the city. So, I started learning new skills from, I suppose you could say, unsavory sources. Soon I found myself part of a street gang called the Docksiders. As you would expect, we were in the Docks District. The Docksiders are a small gang, but being part of them meant security – safety in numbers and usually a roof over my head. My natural dexterity and night vision made me highly useful in the gang. They taught me to pick locks, to steal, and a hundred other nefarious skills. I drew a line at murder, but most other profitable crimes were on the table.
As happens with street gangs, we fell into conflict with another gang over some turf (a street corner we used to sell pesh). The Reefclaws (the other gang) follow a philosophy of violence of the sake of violence. A large group of them jumped me and several of by companions. They outnumbered us two-to-one and they were out for blood. Not satisfied with roughing us up, they killed two of us and were well on their way to killing all of us (especially me). I was the last one alive, fighting for my life when I was saved by Marisiel.
Marisiel was a woman, an Elf, who jumped into the fight wielding a black sword and her magic as if they were one and the same. In seconds, she had dispatched all the Reefclaws and, without a second look at my Docksider companions, was offering me a hand up. And then, without a word, she patted me on the cheek and left. What she had not realized, is that while I watched her fight, I got my first true glimpse of my Brightness.
I managed to follow Marisiel home. I thought that being an Elf, she’d understand when I explained what I’d felt…what I’d learned when I saw her fight. She was having none of it. I was so sure of my path, however, that I refused to leave her block. I became a street person again, living in the shadow of her home. She threatened me. She ignored me. Once she beat me within an inch of my life, but she never drew her sword or used her magic against me. Still I would not give up. I lived on scraps and begged for coins, and every day I asked her to make me her apprentice.
After a year, life on the streets (well, street I guess) had taken its toll. I was malnourished and haggard. I doubt my own parents would have recognized me and I wager most people didn’t even see me as an Elf anymore. It was when I had reached this lowest point, but had still not given up, that Marisiel’s resolve finally broke. She brought me into her home, cleaned me up, and began my training.
It took almost three months just to get my body back into condition, but during that time Marisiel had started teaching me the basics of magic. When I was strong enough my time was split between study and fencing with wooden sticks in the garden of Marisiel’s manor house. We had just started practice with actual swords (Marisiel had bought me a new rapier) when Marisiel was killed.
She’d been acting strangely for days, making me spend more time in study than fencing and keeping to herself. I knew something was up with Marisiel, but I was I couldn’t get her to confide in me. One night, she gave me a particularly difficult study assignment, promising dire consequences if I hadn’t mastered the lesson by morning, and left the house for the night. After six months, this was the first time Marisiel had left the house at night (all our food was delivered and we never went out at night). So, naturally I was suspicious given her recent strange behavior.
Of course, I followed her…discreetly from a distance. By the time I caught up with her in vacant lot in the Petal District, watching her form the roof of a nearby building, all I could see was the end of a conversation. Marisiel was speaking with a tall figure in a hooded robe. Whatever was being said, it did not please Marisiel. After no more than two minutes, the hooded figure bowed its head, took two steps back from Marisiel, and vanished in flash of magic. Simultaneously, a dozen men, common street thugs from the look of them, entered the vacant lot from all sides and attacked Marisiel.
It’s a testament to my esteem for Marisiel that I was not worried for her in the least. I’d seen her fight. I knew twelve street enforcers were no match for her and her black sword. It seems she didn’t want a protracted battle. Just as the first thug was within reach of her sword, she dropped a Fireball upon them, trying to end the fight in one instant. As the Fireball detonated, I saw something strange in that single instant.
Each thug was wearing a necklace of gold baubles. I thought the jewelry was just some badge of rank for their gang or something similar. But in that tiny bit of time, I learned they were much more. As Marisiel’s magic fire enveloped the thugs and their jewelry, each bauble on each necklace detonated in a ball of fire of its own. Each explosion was small compared to the magic unleashed by Marisiel, but there were dozens of such explosions. The vacant lot, several adjacent buildings, and Marisiel herself were burned to ash.
On impulse, I rushed into the burning vacant lot. For some reason, I felt compelled to recover Marisiel’s black sword, assuming it was not a melted hunk of slag. When I arrived at the pile of ashes that was once my mentor, I found the sword, it’s sheath burned away, still intact and not even warm to the touch. I picked it up and made my way back to Marisiel’s manor, my home.
I arrived to find the house in shambles. Someone (or several someones) had broken in and ransacked it. Several valuables were missing, most notable Marisiel’s spellbooks and her magical trinkets. Despite the missing valuables, this was far more than a burglary. I’ve burgled houses, so I speak from experience. Somehow, the burglars had overlooked my primer spellbook and a small pouch of coins I’d managed to save. I took them and got out as fast as I could, hoping I’d not been spotted entering or exiting the manor.
That was the last time I saw Marisiel or her home. It would be foolish for me to return. Instead, I returned to the Docks – the part of the city I know best. The first thing I did was approach the Docksiders for re-entry into the gang. There were, of course, some obstacles – suspicions about where I’d been and the circumstances of my disappearance. Perhaps it was my newfound confidence. Perhaps they actually believed my story. Perhaps it was the strange black sword at my side. No matter the reason, I was back in. But not for long.
In the first weeks after my return, I helped the Docksiders retake several corners they’d lost to the Reefclaws. The lessons I learned from Marisiel made me far more dangerous on the streets than I have even been. It seems my new skills had attracted the attention of new eyes. That’s why I’m here now, talking to you.
Obviously the Locksmith Guild thinks I have some kind of potential. I am only to happy to prove you correct.