A Note on Characters

It appears the PC party tentatively consists of the following: Deva Avenger (striker), ???? Sorcerer (striker), and Gnoll ???? (hopefully not another striker). Matt expressed interest in making some sort of defender, but he'll probably do something completely different knowing his ADHD.

The only problem with three strikers is that there really isn't a lot of cohesion. Unlike a defender (say fighter or swordmage) strikers cannot soak damage, control the shape of the battle, or rapidly heal allies. Other than that, there is no problem with it. Overall, a balanced party with defenders, leaders, controllers, and strikers are the most effective. I realize that none of you had communication with one another; there was no way to plan who would be what.

So that brings me to the next point. Just because hours have been spent in developing characterization does not mean that you can't make changes to your character. (I.e. it would be very easy to change avenger to cleric, sorcerer to wizard, ranger to warden, etc.)

Now, don't feel obligated to change. I only wish to inform of the situation.

Keep in mind Ben and Matt (possibly Daniel, maybe Richard) still have to decide on characters. Maybe they'll tip the scales.

I've posted some races that I thought might work for Sessanos. CHA is the most important stat, but really anything that helps CHA or DEX could work; the slobbiest is a race that boosts both. Maximizing stat bonuses to match a class is not mandatory of course, but it does help your character excel.

Sessanos, or "6"

The following is the backstory for Brandon's character.

As written by the player

These are the only legible entries in the journal of Cranex D'Criza, Olucran scientist employed by Vector. It is the only precious item a man known as "Six" possesses.

Day 1 - At last I have arrived in the Nation of Vector. I believe I am called here to work on developing further steam technologies for the Empire. Their need of Olucran science is no longer a secret no matter what appearance they may try to make. My only hope is to make enough coin to open my own facility.

Day 4 - I now believe that the project I have been called to work on may be something more serious than I had previously predicted. I was briefed today on what is to be called henceforth "Psychotherapy", a development from my Olucran counterparts, a craft far more advanced than anything I have ever seen. It appears we are to revive souls from dead tissue in order to harness some sort of power from them--all this for the might of Vector of course. Although I am excited to be working with new technologies I am also hesitant to get involved in anything so secretive as to maybe cost me my life.

Day 7 - Tremendous! Today I was given my own laboratory deep within this metal stronghold. I must admit it does my soul good to be deep underground once more, however I cannot say I've grown accustomed to this new life. I have studied further into what it is the Empire is requesting of me. Through the psycho magics of the Olucran Syndicate Biomancers, we are to act as God and recreate many copies of a former life, henceforward codenamed "clones". These copies are to be extensively trained by myself and other elite scientists in order to tap into the potentials of the original life-form. It seems science and religion will be separate no longer!

Day 14 - Specimens 1-6 are growing rapidly as anticipated. Predictions are that they will age until reaching the same age that the original tissue was at the time of its. . . eradication. So far, they act as children. 1 is growing a personality rapidly and is responding well to the psycotherapy. 2-5 seem to be progressing at a steady rate. 6 has been shunned by the group. Reason unknown.

Day 27 - Progression continues at rapid rate. Now as maturing youths, each specimen continues to act in a similar to the way described in my previous review. 1 shows great reception to the psychotherapy and has developed powers that Vector already intends to replicate in new weapons of war. 2-5 seem to be growing ill and are exhibiting less-than-expected results. 6 continues to isolate himself in his room after therapy sessions. He cries. I have taken to reading to him before sleep hours. I only hope it offers him some solace.

Day 36 - Specimens 2-5 were found dead today in their pods. So far no reasoning has been found as to why this occurred. The Empire's head scientist told me that the program may be getting canceled. If that is the case I fear what may happen to 1 and 6, the Empire isn't known for ethical resolutions to problems.

Day 42 - There are more and more guards around the lab these days. I fear the worst, that I am to be terminated along with my program. It becomes more obvious to me by the day that my only option is escape. I shall take 6 far away from the touch of the Empire to the land of Elenion. There he will be just as strange as any other foreigner and go unnoticed. His magic has developed but its source is unknown. 1 has become supremely powerful, but he will no longer speak to me. I wonder what those mind mages have been burning into his brain?

Day 46 - I must escape tonight. I received a letter from a former colleague that I am to be terminated by firing squad at dawn. I have bribed my greedy keepers to escort me and 6 out of the town unseen. That letter also held a strange piece of information regarding the psychotherapy experiment. Apparently the tissue used to create the six specimens was from divine origin. That would certainly explain 1's amazing abilities, and would shed light onto why we don't understand 6's powers completely. I must find out more about the source of this tissue.

Day 51 - 6 and I have escaped and are well on our way to Elenion; however we are being tracked by a company of men from Vector. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes--the man riding at their front is specimen 1.

**The following is in a different handwriting**

Day Unknown - Cranex, the only man I've known as a father, is dead. He was slain by my "brother"; the soldiers called him Antarius. I must find the answers to these questions. Who am I? Why can't I remember any of the sessions of psychotherapy? I flee now to Elenion to find my father's contacts there, if any, in hopes that they may shed light on my origin. Once I have grown in power, I swear on my father’s grave that Antarius will pay for what he's done.

(Six, the dark child. Tattoo of the number 6 on his right hand.)

Jensis

The following is a very detailed, and very long description of Keegan's character.

As written by the player. . .

The Last War, more than a 100 years ago. . . Nations sent their kin against the shields and swords of their enemies to no avail. Each side growing desperate in their goals of victory over the other, not showing signs of weakness or submission. They scrape the bottom of the barrel for every last resource, even the lives of men. Despair is sensed by everyone and everything. A grey tint in the sky--the plague of death felt by all. As the elders tell to others their tales of greener and brighter times, they are soon forgotten to the purgatory paths of war laid before them. The Age of War.

Some say it a myth. Unshaven peasants covered in mud tell it to others over cheap mead. The night the sky fell. Some whisper the Gods themselves weeped over what they had watched below. It is told as a clear cold night in the Fall. The stars shinned bright in the sky as the horizon bore distant smoke from burnt villages and remnants of war. The high moon lit the landscape below. The soldiers awaited the next siege still clad in blood encrusted armor, their breath condensing on the cold night air. An all too common silence was upon the different Kingdoms.

That same silence upon the ever proud Kingdom of Scorlanthe as it barely stands as a symbol of courage against the enemy, Vector. Within the kingdom's walls, a native boy lay awake in his bed of hay thinking about his brothers and father at war. Gazing up at the stars through a window, he wondered about his family. A sudden glimmer in the sky caught his attention. It was as a star brighter than all the others, dancing in there as it seemed almost winking at the unknown boy. Unsure if he had just imagine the sparkle whilst in a half dreaming slumber, he shook his head in disbelief. Now focusing on the object, squinting to reaffirm the actuality of his sight, the boy was surprised to realize that he was not dreaming. In his excitement, he got out of bed and stood on top of a wooden crate near by, just tall enough to stick his head out of the window. Watching the star, it occurred to him that the sparkle was getting brighter and brighter. Standing stretched upon his toes, he could see that it was in fact no star at all. His heart started to race.

"Look!" screamed an armor-clad soldier as he pointed at the now apparent, fiery object in the sky. Other soldiers awoke and scrambled about thinking that it was another attack on their Kingdom. It only took moments before many had gathered together, all gazing and pointing up. Their memorization caused them to ignore their captain as he came late to see what the commotion was about. He soon saw what had brought the dead of night alive.

"No," he thought to himself, "a catapult from that distance? . . . It cannot be."

"Men! Get ready!" screamed the captain as he hastened back to his tent to arm himself for the unknown. Every solider of his platoon now ran about, gathering themselves and their belongings. Flinging open the flap of his tent, a loud screech drew his attention from behind. The sky lit up as if noon day in a flash as a deafening boom shattered the landscape. The captain and every soldier ran to the edge of the wall to witness a fiery explosion, casting a cloud of dust into the air, all of which about 5 miles in the distance. Several seconds later, a shock wave woke the rest of the kingdom. Peasants opened their wooden shutters to see if it was another enemy; they were surprised to see no army at their gate. The Kingdom came alive with conversation and torches, everyone wondering what had fallen out of the sky.

It was only a matter of time before the captain received orders to go investigate the meteor.

"Men! We leave in 10 minutes!" he yelled as he suited himself with heavy Scorlanthian armor. The platoon of 40 men left the city's gate eastward toward the billow of smoke in the distance. Lighted by the pale moon light they marched on, whispering to one another about what horrors or wonders lay before them. As they marched closer, some tripped over debris of earth and rock upheaved by the blast, and their eyes adjusted to the smoldering burnt hole in the ground. As the army's march slowed to a cautious walk, the only thing that filled the air was a cracking noise like that normally heard over a campfire and a smell of burnt wood and earth. Each soldier's heart started beating from excitement or fear as they hiked the top of the crater. One by one upon reaching the crest of the mound, they stopped to look down the hole. Their countenances soon changed to confusion. The captain pushed aside the others as he reached the top to see what had silenced his army.

A man?

A pale looking male was laying at the center of the crater, not rock or a beast, but a person. A deva, an almost-nude individual laid there with no apparent injury, unconscious but breathing.

Everyone there second guessed the sight before them. There was no more whispering, just silence as each soldier looked up to their leader for his reaction and synopsis of the situation.

"Be on your most careful guard" warned the captain as he motioned his men to start the descent into the crater. Each following after the other, some sliding down a few feet just before catching themselves.

Closer and deeper the armored men descended into the crackling earth until the Deva lay but a few yards from their feet. As they wondered what they were to do with him, the motionless Deva sprang to its feet in an instant, before they could eve, react with drawn swords. It floated inches above the ground before them, erect and dignified, floating just inches above the ground, peering at each one with hollow grey eyes. The Deva was just under 7 feet tall had a dull grey aura eminating about him as he rotated around, looking. Wings suddenly materialized from a different plane from his back, ethereal wings, insubstantial and transparent. Oddly, only one of the wings appeared to be full size while the other only protruded only a foot or two as if it had been ripped off. The gimp wing was rotten, crumbling as ethereal feathers fell to the ground and faded away like a flower sapped of life that was losing its petals. The wings seemed more symbolic than anything as they would not be able to grant his unnatural levitation.

The soldiers tried backing away slowly only to bump into those ranks behind them. The captain, still standing at the crest of the crater echoed through his helm, yelling to the creature.

"You there! Surrender and identify yourself!" Catching his attention, the angel jutted his expressionless face towards the captain and glared a with piercing grey eyes, as if he were searching. The pause of silence continued as the angel floated on. Each soldier slowly unsheathed their blades uncertain of the creature's intentions. They gave each other worried looks. "Submitted to the will of Scorlanthe, or die. . ."

The tension was at it's pinnacle as each soldier gripped their weapons tighter. The angelic thing did not seem to care; his focus remained on the soul of the captain.

"Scorlanthians, take him down!" shouted the captain, his helmet echoing the battle cry. He unsheathed him weapon as he ran down towards the grey figure. The soldiers gave their all too common battle cry and each charged towards the center with pointed swords. The deva maintained his stare forward until the last possible moment.

The first blade came speeding towards his throat. The angel, as fast as he had stood to his feet, vanished then reappeared in a different spot. The soldier's strike fell into the chest of his fellow comrade. The unarmed Deva used the own soldier's weapon to kill another attacker. Dodging steel from every direction, he continued to redirect attacks to unattended targets, moving faster than the trained soldiers could follow. After a few moments, a pile of armored men started filling up the crater creating mud with their blood. Each time a blade was swung, it lodged into another victims body as the creature vanished and reappeared in an instant.

Soon only a few men remained, 5 soldiers including the captain. Keeping their distance, they waded in their dead comrades floating in the pool of blood. The angel, covered in blood, stopped and retuned to his erected, dignified stance, staring again at the captain with those same grey eyes.

"I am known to some as Jensis," he calmly explained to the survivors in a deep booming voice.


Jensis, the Deva Avenger. Armed with his fullblade, he now resides with the crumbles of men in Scorlanthe. His former celestial glory has been worn to dull grey. Only a god could have cut off his other wing. Why was he cast down here to Rasa? Jensis doesn't seem to remember, but he needs to find some answers soon.