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Name: Matasoga
Race: Half blue dragon, half human
Class: Half Dragon Paragon 1, Sorcerer 1
Age: Early 20s
Height: 6'
Weight: 175 lbs
Order of Attributes (score after racial adjustments): Cha (18, 20 with cape), Int (16), Wis (13), Dex (12), Con (13), Str (18 )
Skills: Bluff (5+5+3=13), Concentration (1+5+0=6), Diplomacy (5+4+2=11), Disguise (5+0+2*=7) Intimidate (5+0+2=7), Knowledge (arcana) (3+5+0=8 ), Knowledge (religion) (3+4+0=7), Listen (1+0+2**=3), Perform (5+2.5+1=8 ), Sense Motive (1+4+0=5), Sleight of Hand (1+0+2=3), Spellcraft (3+5+2=10), Spot (1+0+2**=3), Use Magic Device (5+0+2***=---)
*When acting.
**When familiar is within arms reach.
***Scrolls, only.
Weapons: Silvered Spear, folding heavy crossbow (with regular and silvered bolts), claws, and fangs.
Armor: None
Items: Masterworked silver spear, masterwork heavy crossbow, 50 silver bolts, 50 bolts, backpack, bedroll, flint & steel, ink, inkpen, small steel mirror, 3 sheets of paper, 5 rations, 1 lb of soap, 10 torches, masterwork syrinx, spell component pouch, blank book, courtier's outfit & jewelry, portable chess board, snowshoes, four-person tent, 1 lb of greasepaint, cloak of charisma (+2), stagecoach, 4 zombie animated heavy horses, 136 platinum pieces, 7 gold pieces, 5 silver pieces.
Spells:
Cantrips: Mage hand, mending, prestidigitation, amanuensis
1st Level: Charm person, expeditious retreat
Languages: Common, Draconic, Goblin, Undercommon
Special: Enduring life, Ability Focus (Breath Weapon)

It's very, very long, here condense by having the spaces between paragraphs removed. If you prefer it in it's original form, it can be found on the first page of the thread "Characters waiting to be played." In either instance, you can easily make it through the RP without having read it all.
Consider all of the names and places place-holders that are subject to change.

The Story of Matasoga
The deal had been made and his life planned from the very beginning. Matasoga was to be conceived in the Nordis desert.
The family Matasoga was born into had achieved global renown for their skill at vampire slaying. Due to the nature of their assignments and the panic caused by the knowledge that a vampire had lurked near their town, the town leaders that hired them paid them well and kept matters concerning their assignment as quiet as they could but were never able to award them the title of “noble.”
It came to be that a number of vampires had gathered in the Nordis desert and was threatening the territory of a blue dragon that dwelt there. Due to the long-reaching nature of plans made by undead and other creatures that are not bound by a life span, their ultimate goal was never to be known, but it was believed that the dragon secretly possessed an artifact of great power that the vampires had somehow learned of and meant to steal. Because this was merely speculation, of course no further details are known.
The sheer number of the vampires and power of the individuals was enough to threaten even the mighty dragon. It sent one of its charmed human captives to send word to the nearest town that a great reward was to be offered if it could receive aid in dispatching a large number of vampires. It wasn’t long before the family learned of this and the various branches converged and began the sojourn towards the dragons lair.
The family was primarily made up of clerics of various alignments, attitudes and patron deities. Were they not bound by a common purpose and blood, a group with similar disparity may have broken into violence long ago but they seemed only to be strengthened by their diversity and fight more effectively as a result.
When they at last reached the dragon’s lair, he told them that they could name their price if they were successful in destroying the vampires. Knowing that the deal was too good to be true, the family speculated that the dragon meant for them to all die in his defense, though they were also aware that the lawful nature of the creature made it be loathe to tell lies when making deals with other beings, even those that it considered beneath it, so he surely would not renege on his deal once made. As for their collective death, they merely assumed that the dragon had sorely underestimated them and that they were far better suited to the task than he had thought.
A contract was written up and signed by all of the parties involved. No question or possibility of betrayal was possible by its terms. The family waited in the dragon’s lair until the day night came when the vampire’s approached.
The battle that night was horrific. Were it not for the spells cast in preparation and the exceptional teamwork of the family they would surely all have been slaughtered. As it was, only one of the family members survived and the dragon himself was stricken blind and sorely wounded by a vampire that had gotten past their defenses. With the destruction of this vampire, powerful magic and a death curse prevented any form of healing, beyond natural healing (which even then would be exceptionally slowed) would be able to restore the dragon.
With one family member remaining, the dragon kept his promise and asked the survivor what it was she wanted. Her name was Lior, and she was a young woman of exceptional skill. Respect for the sanctity and finality of death was what led her to embrace the life of a vampire slayer. She survived as much by luck as by skill, for while her powers were prodigious, they were not greater than older members of her family. She was known to be a cunning woman of great intellect and considerable beauty.
Lior considered the dragon’s question. Being the last of her family, and knowing that a strong successor would be needed, she asked that the dragon bless her family with his bloodline. Content with not having to surrender his treasure, the dragon agreed, but only on the condition that he be allowed to rest sufficient that his wounds were healed, over the course of several decades. It would not be she, but the next generation that reaped the rewards of her struggle. She agreed, and the deal was sealed. The dragon collapsed the entrance to his cavern, devoured his charmed minions and slowed his metabolism, in preparation for his great hibernation. The desert sands buried any hint of the dragon’s lair over time.
Lior settled in a nearby town. Within the next 10 years she married a local craftsman named Havilah who was in the business of carving wind instruments and bore a daughter, whom she named Rotem. Rotem was not yet 20 when news of the dragon’s awakening had reached her town. She had been raised for the specific purpose of receiving the dragon’s seed and had studied the customs and psychology of the desert dragons from a very young age. She was kept chaste and carefully looked after until the time came. Ever true to his word, the dragon came himself, in human form, to the town that Lior had settled in and set up a meeting place close to his lair where he would fulfil his portion of the deal.
Rotem made the journey alone. It was several days to reach the dragons lair, but she had studied both the divine and the arcane in hopes of learning more about the dragon’s abilities and to continue the family business. In her magical studies, she felt confident in her ability to repel any ghouls or bandits that may attack.
The dragon was found waiting for her in human form when she arrived. It was there in the Nordis desert, in a small weathered tent, that their half-dragon son would be conceived. The dragon suggested the name Matasoga, a name which meant “Thunderous Roar.” The name was dignified, but given in a dialect of kobold Draconic to be certain that he was branded to be lesser in all ways than a true dragon. Rotem agreed and after a days rest she began the return journey.
Nine months later, the boy named Matasoga was born, but in a rather curious fashion. He was expelled in a state that seemed premature and was encased entirely in a curious clear membrane. The midwife was about to cut it open to release the fetus, but a pulsing within the membrane and the movements of the fetus within made her hesitate.
The membrane was kept warm over the course of several months and developed an opacity and stiffened, but an inner warmth and pulse was felt throughout, assuring Rotem of her child’s health. Three months after the delivery, the hardened membrane began to crack and then, crying and writhing, Matasoga was “hatched” during a bleak, rainy day in mid July.
He was a most curious looking child. His skin pure white and his sparse hair almost a shade of navy. His ears were constructed in a manner not unlike the fins of a fish, with a thin, skeletal structure supporting a membrane that terminated in a reptilian ear canal. His eyes had no whites or irises but simply an oblong pupil set upon a yellow-orange field. The teeth he cut as he grew were found to be incredibly sharp, and he quickly destroyed any toy given to him during the teething process. Eventually thick, oaken rods were given to him but even these needed to be replaced frequently. Most prominent of all was an elongated spine, which almost equaled the full length of his body, that was the same pure, white color as the rest of his body except that the color tapered off to a shadowy bluish tint towards the tip. A final notable feature was the faint smell of ozone that issued from the child, no matter how often he was washed and how we generated a mild static field whenever he was agitated.
Within a year of his birth, Matasoga was taken by Lior and Rotem to the town of Harne where they were brought with offers of employment. It seems some of the graves of the fallen in the last war refused to stay closed, and there were several disappearances and complaints of fatigue. Vampires were suspected. Lior, now in her fifties, had retired from the business of vampire slaying, but Rotem was seen as capable and fit to destroy the vampire spawn that would likely be found in such a place.
Havilah, Lior and Rotem journeyed to Harne and took up residence in an inn room. There Matasoga was looked after by Lior while Rotem mounted an investigation. It didn’t take her long to find the disturbed graves. She then prepared her battlefield with obstacles that would slow the vampires and cast preparatory spells to give herself a further edge.
She was successful in destroying the vampires, but these were of the same clan as the last, who had discovered the secrets of weaving necromantic magic into a death curse and making her wounds lasting and crippling, though due to her shorter life-span, nowhere near the severity of the dragon’s. Still, she was in no shape to make the journey. Having sufficient amounts of funds left from the collective family fortune (that Lior had inherited as the last survivor) they purchased a house and settled permanently in Harne.
So it came to be that Matsoga was raised by his grandmother Lior, his grandfather Havilah, and his mother Rotem (who because of her injuries took a more stationary role). His grandmother would tell him stories of vampires felled by the family and of various other familial legends. His grandfather, despite the family wealth, continued to work, setting up a wood-carving shop so that he could continue to make his instruments. When Matasoga was born, he adopted the symbol of a head with stylized fins in place of ears and cat-like eyes.
A traveling gnomish bard named Ianmross once passed through the town and bought one of his instruments on a whim, purely based on the intriguing insignia, rather than the quality of the instrument and played amazingly (though it was entirely due to his own talent, rather than the craftsmanship of the instrument itself). This bard's wanderings and adventures eventually afforded him a great bit of fame. The prominently displayed insignia that was on his flute, which he played wherever he went was a wonderful means of advertisement for his brand on instruments and it was his work that kept the family fortune intact while Rotem was injured and unable to work. It was Havilah who taught Matasoga to play the pan pipes, his favored instrument.
Matasoga had lived a rather inactive youth, having been an outcast among his peers (due to his appearance) and having an invalid parent. Due to this, he spent most of his time reading, which Rotem taught him. From the age of five onward, he read all that he could get his hands on, be it arcane texts, epic stories, or philosophical theses. Of course, many of the concepts were above his young mind, but he delighted in reading them all the same.
Thus, Matasoga having placed reading in such high regard, became most dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and was delighted when the time came for him to enter school. He excelled in his earliest classes, but as the years dragged on, his grades began to drop. The reasons were not due to a deficit in his intellectual capabilities, but due to the fact that he found the assigned work tedious. Furthermore, many scientific phenomena was dismissed as the work of the gods. His refusal to answer the questions in the way that the teachers considered to be correct was to the detriment of his marks.
With low grades and his physical differences from the other children, they quickly went off into their different groups and Matasoga was an outsider to all of them. Only one person in his early years seemed willing to speak with him. He was a half-goblin and a child of rape. Due to his origin and heritage, he was ignored entirely by the other children, being a bit ugly, but friendly and having a pure soul. The two quickly became hated by the others, due to jealousy over Matasoga's intellect and the hatred that his differences inspired. Through Matasoga's early years, he and Kromli became jaded together.
They would commit small acts of theft, the smallest being to make off with a few small items of food from the more foolish, narrow-minded, and ruder townspeople and the largest being stealing a few unguarded copper pieces, from time to time. Matasoga was more than willing to lean upon his family’s fortune, but desired some coin of his own and quick to establish a small collection of his own separate from his family. This covetous attitude would later be attribute to his draconic heritage.
When Matasoga was seven years old, a booksellers' caravan came to town. He was elated at the thought of knowledge coming in from outside of town. He ran to their stand as soon as he heard the news and quickly made a long list of the books he wanted to purchase (nearly all of them) but was denied by the ever-pious Lior, who still retained access to the fortune. She claimed that the scientifically based books were an affront to her faith and tools to sow lies among heathens and non-believers. She also found his interest in undeath (also displayed in the list) to be unhealthy and sure to lead him to darkness. Cursing religion as a whole, he checked his own collection and dejectedly learned that he couldn't foot the bill for even a single book. Matasoga cried himself to sleep that night and vowed that he would never be denied knowledge again.
He and Kromli stepped up their practices. They never stole from those that proved themselves to be above the other townsfolk but not out of any regard to any sort of theive's code. He simply didn't think that they deserved the loss. He also formed a plan of regular theft where he would play his songs on his pipes while Kromli picked the pockets of those listening. At first the plan was a miserable failure, as Matasoga played and sang of those who were of low birth but cunning and smart enough to subvert the self-righteous upper class and no one cared to listen. The upper class hated it because it portrayed them as fools, and the lower class didn't care for it because they largely were fools (as most all people in this town were narrow-minded and bigoted. Ignorance and poverty generally went hand in hand in towns such as Harne).
Quickly, he changed his tune to songs that he hated, songs about paladins slaying dragons, goblins, and demons. At first he crafted elaborate stories of why the beings deserved their demise, but to Matasoga's disgust, this part of the story generally bored the people. When he later cut it out, he found that they were much happier, evidently believing that simply being dragons, goblins, or demons was enough to deserve a swift death. He also learned to eliminate all character flaws. The perfect white knight on a unicorn was what they wanted and the more contrived the better. It was this that allowed him to mercilessly lift coin without any semblance of guilt. When the book-sellers came that year he left with a bestiary, an arcane spellcaster's guide, and a collection of stories of the undead. He kept these, as well as all stolen coins under his floorboards, so his family was not made aware. He further showed his heritage by privately referring to this as his hoard.
The undead held a very special interest for Matasoga, though not out of any interest in the family business. He generally found stories of the haughty, arrogant, and uppity vampire to be far too familiar with the stories he had heard in his youth, but the swift and mighty ghoul with supernatural insight and the dreaded genius lich to be creatures of exceptional interest. The reason for this interest in undeath was he once saw an old man collapse on the street. Later the announcement was made that he had died. He was about three then and asked his mother what it all meant. It was then that he learned that all people die, simply (in some cases) from being old. This meant that he and everyone he knew would one day be dead. He was horrified at the notion and couldn't accept it.
Now that a play at eternal existence (if not exactly life) could be, he was willing to take it. He knew that as a child he could not, but eventually, when the time was right, he would take that step. And in time, perhaps, learn all there was to know.
Matasoga took his first steps into puberty at about this time. While his voice deepened, his body remained hairless, however his skin, which had slowly become increasingly coarse since childhood now was spider webbed by a network of lines. His scales began to manifest and split, which caused his skin to peel and itch horribly. The blue tint became stronger all over, and the muscles in his tail began to develop. His nails, which had always been a shade or two darker, slowly shifted to ebony and became very thick, naturally growing to points.
With the raging hormones apparent in his peers manifesting, he was teased, taunted, and bullied mercilessly. Simply assuming that he was weak due to his sedentary life style, he tried to avoid combat whenever possible. Had he been aware for the great might afforded to him by his race, he would likely still have resisted the temptation to beat those who bullied him into submission due to the severity of the punishment he would doubtless receive (by the teachers who found him to be equally abominable, as well as arrogant and lazy). In an effort to lessen the evident nature of the change in his skin, he began to paint his face (which was mostly free of scales) white. As a stylistic touch, he placed a cross on his cheek with the top bar longer, running all the way to his lower eye-lid. This was modified from a simplified version of an arcane symbol in one of the books he’d read and he felt it might serve to intimidate some of his peers.
In addition to these, strange things began to happen. Glass broke for no reason, strange puddles of unidentifiable liquids appeared, flashing lights appeared in parts of the house, and so too did noises. For many months this went on, until Matasoga remembered reading that draconic children are particularly imbued with arcane energies and many budding sorcerers are plagued by such things. Only then did he realize that the strange phenomenon was his doing. He remained silent, knowing that if he was known to be a sorcerer, the townspeople would surely drive out his entire family. He stood by and watched each exorcism, his already little faith in the divine dwindling with each of Lior’s failings to understand what the true cause was.
Matasoga then embarked on a trip into the outside of the forest (with Kromli, in case a monster attacked) near his town and each day made the energy manifest within him into spells. He was especially adept at turning the energy into electricity. Once exhausting the arcane energy in such a manner, he would return home with no townspeople any the wiser. The strange phenomenon stopped. After a week of doing this, his powers became set to certain types of spells and his powers no longer manifested outside of his control. Only Kromli knew his secret.
It was on one such outting into the woods that Matasoga (much to his surprise) encountered a group of his peers. They were far from Greoats home, and he rarely left (except to meet with Matasoga) while shut away in his shack/workshop. He kept his distance from them, unseen and when he realized it was a number of simple-minded bullies from school, he decided that he would have some fun with them.
Putting his spells to work, he slowly surrounded the three with eerie lights that played and danced about them. After having their attention with this, he created, with another spells ambient whispers (though his powers were not such that he was able to make distinct speech). As a final touch, he lifted a few pebble and began to have it move in slow rotations around them. As they ran, he could no longer resist the temptation and flung (via the spell) the pebble at the head of the last one as he ran. As expected, he didn't look back.
Chuckling to himself, perfectly self-satisfied, Matasoga, Kromli in tow enjoyed a moment of triumph before going over to where the boys had sat. He found, crippled and broken a small snake. One of it's eyes had been put out. Moved with sympathy, Matasoga extended his hand and whispered "Children can be so cruel," coaxing the injured animal into his hand. His spells then spent, he returned home.
It was mostly a childhood sympathy most children possessed towards animals that motivated him as he nursed the injured creature back to health, though the thrill of having an animal as a frequent companion that smaller minds had tried to slaughter out of ignorance and violence was not lost on him. He demonstrated his appreciation of the spirit of adversarialism by naming his new pet Apep. Apep was an obscure deity who was prophecized to bring about the end of all existence. A few scars and a missing eye aside, Apep made a full recovery. As a further show of general contempt, Matasoga often kept one of his eyes closed, mirroring the injury, as well as (in his mind) drawing attention to the destructive nature of ignorance.
Matasoga and Apep became inseparable and it was soon thereafter that Matasoga, in secret, performed the ritual to make the snake his familiar. He stepped up his thieving, being more covetous and greedy than usual, in order to obtain the arcane components needed. Only Kromli was there to see the ritual, as he performed it in the woods. With the completion of the ritual, Apep and Matasoga became bound.
Matasoga could not see through Apep's eyes, nor draw from any of his other senses, but he could sense what Apep was feeling to some degree and was more in-tune with his surroundings when Apep was near. He also found that his ability to lie and mislead others was increased. As a result, he took Apep with him everywhere, allowing him to slither about under his coat when taking him somewhere that he wasn't allowed, such as school.
The next year he went to the school for older children and quickly fell in love with a girl named Justice Alucean. Working with Kromli, the requisite notes and other such things that establish a young love occurred and the two were inseparable. Matasoga began to spend less time with Kromli, and while it depressed the young half-goblin, he accepted it. Due to his heritage and upbringing, being something of a lackey came naturally to him, and he decided that he'd continue doing his best for Matasoga whenever he could. This decision was most formative.
Matasoga eventually let Justice in on his secret of being an arcane spell caster, and the two shared nearly everything with one another. The two crafted many memories and were very much in love. After a few years together, they culminated their love when Matasoga was fifteen. In these times of raging hormones and endless belittlement and public humiliations, Matasoga could say that, in spite of his school-yard misery, he was truly happy in her arms.
It was not long after that his heart was to be broken. A few months after their next anniversary, she approached him ,and without looking directly at him, told him that she would need to be alone and was dealing with some personal problems. Before he could respond she ran into a crowd. It was in this devastated state that he sought out Kromli for comfort and found him on the ground in the process of being beaten. Things had been getting worse for him without Matasoga's company. Lacking Matasoga's charisma and being different, he became an easy scapegoat. Matasoga could take no more. He approached the boy who was thrashing him, ducked down and punched him in the calf.
The blow itself was weak, but the charge within it was not. The anger at himself for neglecting Kromli, at Justice for abandoning him, at the foolish brute for beating Kromli, and Kromli for not being able to handle it on his own, and at the very world that had begotten him into this Hell that was Harne, coupled with the fact that his pent up arcane energy had been without an outlet for so long released such an outpouring of electrical energy that it was sufficient to stop the bully's heart, killing him instantly. The official cause of death was recorded as heart failure. Matasoga was suspected by many for doing something supernatural but could not be punished, as it could not be proven. It was through this that Matasoga renewed and forever strengthened their friendship.
Their persecution became worse then. Justice avoided him for a short time, and he later learned that her family had moved. The money that he and Kromli had been saving for books now went under his floorboards for a different purpose; He wanted out of this town as fast as he could. His views on love changed along with this goal. With Justice gone, so too was his belief in true love. He became callous but at the same time filled with an empty charm. At about the same time, fathers began warning their daughters to stay away from the spawn of evil dragons. This meant that being wooed by him not only meant giving in to his highly sexual charm, but also rebelling. It was in this way that Matasoga seduced many, though he only ever gave himself to a few. It was not for romantic reasons that he held back, but by the realization that were he the cause of pregnancy his plans of leaving would be severely complicated.
One such dalliance was with a young woman by the name of Inoxia. She was new to the town and she too was also of a very fair complexion. Her hair was almost white and her skin pure white. Her irises were a brown not far from red and because she always wore a cloak, Matasoga simply assumed her an albino. Her hands were kept in gloves, as was the fashion of nobles, and she always appeared richly dressed. Matasoga learned that she was traveling alone. She had come by coach and always seemed to be busy during the day, but every night was their’s to spend together. This was the one girl since Justice that he actually began to care about and he looked after her and saw to her safe-keeping and she returned his treatment with a somewhat aloof kindness of sorts. He did not know it, but he had been charmed.
One night there was a great storm, and she asked to spend the night. Due to the presence of his family, she was kept in the guest room. Knowing that they were under the same roof and unable to contain himself, Matasoga tossed and turned until eventually, when he was certain that everyone in the house was asleep, he crept to the guest room to find her bed empty. Assuming that she has decided to use the latrine, he simply decided to return to his room and wait, but on the way heard footsteps in his mother’s room. Knowing that she wouldn’t be up, Matasoga peered in and could not believe what his draconic eyes bore witness to within the darkened room. His sweet Inoxia, poised over her mother’s sleeping form, a meat cleaver in her hand, smirking hideously down at her...With long, sharp fangs in her mouth.
In a horrified whisper he said “Inoxia...What are you doing?” She laughed. Rotem’s slumber, reenforced by a sleep spell, was not to be broken. “Are you such a fool that you cannot piece it together? I’m going to kill your dear, crippled mother, then your decrepit old grandmother for their unpunished crimes against my people. Why don’t you be a good boy and go back to bed?” she smirked condescendingly.
Rage welled within Matasoga. Not at the thought of his families slaughter, not even because of how she spoke to him, but because he had allowed himself to be used. The spell was broken and he strode swiftly through the room. Electricity crackled around him as he approached her in a fury. She merely laughed, but underestimating him was to be her final mistake. He bound her arms in a tight embrace and in a whisper too full of rage to be spoken at a volume any greater he said, “I loved you,” and locked lips with her...Just before using his electric breath weapon for the first time. She did not scream. There was no time. With her head little more than a smoldering absence, her body fell, disintegrating into ash, out of his arms. There he bitterly wept, not for the loss of his love, but out of shame for allowing himself to be so completely used.
The next morning he told his mother that Inoxia had returned home early and that he was leaving town. He had decided that the time to begin his career as a vampire hunter had begun. They gave him money for equipment, traveling clothes, as well as additional coin for food and other travel expenses.
It was here that he said goodbye to Kromli, Matasoga being only seventeen. He considered taking him with him, but the incident with Inoxia had jaded him towards all company to the point where he needed some time alone to himself, to think and do some solitary introspection.
Greoats, however, may be useful. Over time, Greoats eventually managed to look like a normal living being and had managed to separate himself from his monstrous appendage. He had also obtained priests robes in which he girded himself, though knew to pose as a priest of a less vile deity than the one to which he gave his true veneration.
Matasoga arranged to meet Greoats in secret, at nights. Each month they met at a place arranged ahead of time. Eventually he took a rather servile role to Matasoga which Matasoga gleaned was due to a mixture of natural subservience that zombies had and some part of Greoats religion that compelled him to ally with dragon-kind. This suited Matasoga quite well, so he tolerated Greoats religion entirely.
He spent the next several years taking jobs that would allow him to visit violence upon vampires where ever he could, though he was no fool. He knew that he had been lucky last time that Inoxia had been nothing more than a vampire spawn, rather than a full vampire. He only took jobs that allowed him to hunt the former.
Matasoga spent his time engaged in doing what he loved, but he never killed vampires that reminded him of Inoxia. He hacked off their arms and legs and treated them with fire to prevent bleeding to death and brought them through town in a sack through which a spear had been driven. He then presented the vampire, still writing and conscious, to whoever had hired him.
He quickly lost employability due to several factors. One was that the manner in which he paraded the twitching sack through town drew public attention to the fact that a vampire was amongst them and this was the last thing the employer, usually a mayor or other public official, wanted. Furthermore, the act was considered so depraved, that most towns would rather have vampires among them than one such as Matasoga.
With his primary source of income gone and the last of his travel funds dwindling, he realized that he would have to seek alternate income. He considered his options at this time when a catastrophic incident occurred.
While in the largest city that he frequented a spontaneous mass animation of objects occurred. The objects were invariably aggressive, occasionally quasi-sentient, and unusually denser and harder to damage than their inanimate counterparts. Martial law was declared and for weeks Matasoga was stuck within the city walls.
With the mass animation in full swing and no one allowed to leave the town, paranoia reigned supreme. Citizens formed militia bands that were defined primarily by which neighborhood they were in. Seeing an opportunity to establish himself (and perhaps find a group of other able-bodied citizens) Matasoga contacted those the he had ties with in the city and set up his base in an abandoned cathedral that he then fortified (after emptying the coffers, of course).
Government officials quickly realized that the situation was out of their hands. To try and put some level of order to the chaos, various badges, honors and other incentives were given to those who were the most instrumental in dealing with the animated objects that were destroying the city and those within in. Matasoga cared nothing for honor or valor but realized that the number of those under his command would be quite likely to grow if he distinguished himself and set to work organizing his troops and planning raids and strikes focusing his efforts only in places where he would be most certain to be recognized. He was quite certain that wealth and political favors (if not direct political power) would be most readily available to him when this business was finished if he was well established.
Eventually the situation was managed and the threat was reduced to a level that was possible to control. Matasoga (as well as all other mages in the city) were questioned, extensively but this yielded no results and brought the city officials no closer to learning the cause of the spontaneous, mass animation.
One valuable discovery that was made, however, was a weakness that the objects had; adamantine. Blades and blunt instruments made of this incredibly dense metal was the most damaging element that had been brought to bear against the animated objects. Unfortunately the rare and valuable metal was in relatively short supply in the city and more of the ore was needed. The city government released a statement that they would handsomely reward anyone that was able to bring in some of the precious ore to the city to help bring a final close to the situation.
Matasoga felt this was motivation enough. After talking to some of his contacts, he learned that the most readily available place to obtain the ore was a swamp in which there was rumored to be a small settlement informally known as "Bogtown." He gathered those that he had rallied under his banner, formed an expedition party of those that were able and willing to pick up and leave and set off.

Name: Daemon
Race: Half Devil (Erinyes), Gray Elf
Class: Wizard (2) Level Adjustment +4
Age: 149
Height: 6'1
Weight: 150lbs.
Ability Order: 1. INT(23)&DEX(23) 2. CON(17) 3. CHA(16) 4. STR(15) 5. WIS(13)
Hit Points: 16
Base Attack: +1
Skills: Bluff(+4), Concentration(+8 ), Craft: Blacksmithing(+7 ), Decipher Script(+8 ), Diplomacy(+3), Escape Artist(+8 ), Gather Information(+4), Hide(+9 ), Intimidate(+7 ), Knowledge Arcana(+11), Knowledge the Planes(+11), Knowledge Religion(+8 ), Listen(+5), Move Silently(+6 ), Search(+8 ), Sense Motive(+3), Spellcraft(+11), Spot(+5)
Saves: FORT +3, REF +6, WILL +4
Weapons: +1 Adamantine Longsword, Masterwork Dagger, Claws
Armor: AC=19 [10+6(DEX)+2(Natural Armor)+1(Insight Bonus)]
Items: Wooden Spoon, Bottle of Green Dragon Blood, Old man's skull, Ring of Feather Fall, Ring of Sustenance, Bag of Holding Type I, Spellbook, Spell Component Pouch, Tanglefoot Bag, Bottle of wine and 2 glasses, Bedroll, Candles (10), Ink, Ink pen (2), Masterwork Manacles, Average Lock, Small Steel Mirror, Pint of Oil (10), Parchment (20), Silk Rope (50ft.), Sealing Wax, Signet Ring (Evil Brand), Whetstone, Potion of Cure Light Wounds (3), Hat of Disguise, Light Horse, Riding Saddle, Saddle Bags, Amber Amulet of Vermin (Huge Monstrous Scorpion), Quall's Feather Token (Whip), Elemental Gem (Fire), Dimension Stride Boots, 1 gold
Spells:
Prepared: These are subject to change, I will say what he has prepared each day in my posts.
0 Level: 4/day
- Detect Magic
- Prestidigitation
- Message x2
1rst Level: 4/day
- Mage Armor
- Benign Transposition
- Ebon Eyes
- Stupor
Known:
0 Level:
- Acid Splash
- Ammenuensis
- Arcane Mark
- Caltrops
- Dancing Lights
- Daze
- Detect Magic
- Detect Poison
- Disrupt Undead
- Electric Jolt
- Flare
- Ghost Sound
- Launch Bolt
- Launch Item
- Light
- Mage Hand
- Mending
- Message
- Open / Close
- Prestidigitation
- Ray of Frost
- Read Magic
- Resistance
- Repair Minor Damage
- Silent Portal
- Sonic Snap
- Stick
- Touch of Fatigue
1rst Level:
- Protection from Good
- Shield
- Mage Armor
- Obscuring Mist
- Comprehend Languages
- Identify
- True Stike
- Burning Hands
- Tenser's Floating Disk
- Disguise self
- Expeditious Retreat
- Benign Transposition
- Blades of Fire
- Blood Wind
- Ray of Flame
- Ebon Eyes
- Greater Mage Hand
- Familiar Pocket
- Reduce Person
- Stupor
Languages: Common, Elven, Draconic, Celestial, Abyssal, Infernal, Giant, Undercommon
Feats:Scribe Scroll, Mind Over Body, Evil Brand
Special:Summon Familiar, Shaky
Gray Elf Traits
+2 DEX, -2 CON, +2 INT, -2 STR
Immune to Sleep effects
+2 Racial bonus on saving throws against enchantments
Low Light Vision
+2 racial bonus on Listen, Search, and Spot checks.
Detect secret doors

Half Fiend Template (Erinyes)
Native Outsider Type
Fly 30ft. Average Manuverability
+2 Natural Armor
Claw Attack 1d4
Smite Good: 1/day the creature can make a normal melee attack to deal extra damage equal to its HD (Maximum of + 20) against a good foe.
Spell-Like Abilities: Caster level = HD and Save DCs are Charisma based.
HD---------------Ability
1-2--------Darkness 3/day
3-4--------Charm Person 3/day
5-6--------Unholy Blight 1/day
7-8--------Minor Image 3/day
9-10------Greater Teleport 1/day
11-12-----Blasphemy 1/day
13-14-----Unholy Aura 3/day, Unhallow 1/day
15-16-----Horrid Wilting 1/day
17-18-----Summon Monster IX (fiends only) 1/day
19-20-----Destruction 1/day
(I gain each of the above spell-like abilities when I reach the proper number of HD)
Darkvision 60ft.
Immune to Poison
Resistance to acid 10, cold 10, electricity 10 and fire 10
Damage Reduction: 5/magic
My natural attacks are treated as magical and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction
Spell Resistance = 10 + HD (Currently 11)
Abilities
STR + 2
DEX + 4
CON + 4
INT + 4
CHA + 2
Native Oustsider Traits:
Immortal
Proficient with all simple and martial weapons
Retains dual nature


Daemon was the son of an outcast gray elf servitor and an erinyes held by the same bondage on the 8th layer of Baator, Cania. In the Citadel of Mephistar he was born and raised, betwixt endless ice and hellfire he grew and learned the unimaginable cruelties and vile nature of the Nine Hells. Never knowing his father, who’s mortal body could not withstand the harsh environment, Daemon was raised solely by his mother the erinyes Niess, she taught her son well the lessons of life in Baator; ambition, pride, ferocity, magic, the weight of words as well as actions, how power can be wrought through the subtle and the severe and held through absolute domination. Daemon appreciated the long working schemes of most devils but also had a knack for the quick and often bloody actions that could propel one to even greater heights with only the risk of the fall. The risk did nothing to quell his lust for power, for he was but a half-breed, his life would be forfeit at the slightest whim of those above him. Any risk would be well worth it for whatever gains he could garnish.
Every child, no matter where they call home, has those they look up to, those they model themselves after. Daemon idolized only one being, Mephistopheles, the ruler of all Cania and the second most powerful devil in all of Baator, subject only to Asmodeus. Most thought him foolish for idolizing Mephistopheles as he is without a doubt the most chaotic of all the devil Lords, but it is precisely this quality that Daemon so admires. His mastery of the severe and often reckless actions that so many other devils are too cautious to attempt as well as his all-consuming lust for power, regardless of risk, are qualities that Daemon strives for in himself. The perfect combination of planning ahead while still moving forward. He respected few others, chief among them was Niess, his mother. This had nothing to do with family ties and everything to do with how she clawed her way up the political ladder, all the way to Master of Quagrem’s harem. The position granted many benefits, including access to the School of Hellfire and a small degree of safety to Daemon.
Daemon spent most of his life in Mephistar trying to gain power and status, learning what he could and even picking up smatterings of magic from the wizards of the School of Hellfire. He quickly developed an interest in Mephistopheles’ new creation and strived to master it, he was denied its secrets however because of his low standing. It wasn’t until Daemons snooping about uncovered a traitor amongst the wizards that he was granted individuality from the nameless masses that served at the lowest echelons of society. He was offered a formal position, under his mother, protecting Quagrem’s harem, a grand opportunity, especially for a half-breed. Daemon however, true to his nature, wanted more and he had a plan to get it. He begged to be allowed to go to the Material plane, reasoning that he could better serve the Lord of Cania by corrupting mortals to the following, bringing souls to Baator to fuel Mephistopheles’ plans. With the support of Niess and her master Quagrem, Daemon’s request was granted.
He was free of Baator, free of its politics and the constant threat of destruction. Here in the world of his father he would be the powerful one, he was finally free to take anything he wanted and give nothing back. Here he could safely gain the power and force necessary for his ultimate ambition; to return to the Hells and rule it, all of it. An insane ambition to be sure but here in the world of mortals he could be confident, he would tap this worlds unlimited potential for his own gain. Daemon’s mother once told him he was “a Prince of the Fallen”, that he was a son of fallen angels, he would earn that title no matter what. He knew it would take years, probably centuries to do so, but to an immortal, especially to a devil, time is of little consequence.
“Through the subtle and the severe I will achieve absolute domination, and I will start here.”

Here is how Daemon and Kryptis met, the red text is Daemon and the black is Kryptis.

Daemon, after coming to the Material plane immediately set out to purchase the items needed for life in this new world. Whilst in the sky Daemon spotted a nearby city, the city was small but still large enough to facilitate his needs. He decided to find out exactly how the people in this world would react to him so he chose to forgoe any attempts at disguising his heritage and entered the city.
The townspeople reacted pretty much as expected, they ran and screamed and hid which was more or less useful for his needs anyway. He did take some pleasure in causing fear in these people so easily, it made him feel very powerful which was great compared to how he had felt in Cania. He proceeded to the shops where, surprisingly the merchants were still at their posts. They were a brave lot he supposed, but then they would stand much to loose if they left their wares out for the taking. He found haggling with the shopkeepers easy however as they were obviously intimidated by his appearance. This suited him fine and he went about the task of purchasing what he needed, at discounted prices of course. He reached a magics shop that sold rings of all kinds and Daemon, intrigued by their promised effects, began to peruse the man's wares whilst he cowered towards the back pretending to clean the same ring over and over.
Kryptis entered the town, covered in a light layer of dust and days old bruises, reaching the market district just in time to watch as many of the townsfolk fled in apparent terror. She stopped and watched as one young man frantically waved his arms overhead as he ran, continuing on to the shops when he was gone from sight. Noticing a shop displaying small objects essential to spellcasting in its window, she approached it to the exclusion of all others. Upon entering, she saw a gray-skinned man with deep crimson angel wings standing at the counter. After a brief pause, she slowly approached, noticing as she neared a strange round mark branded into the skin between his wings.
She walked up to the counter beside him and looked down at the rings he was inspecting. They were finely crafted, and magical, from the descriptions in the display. But they could not hold her interest with such an abnormal creature standing beside her. She looked at him, now noticing the black horns curving up from his forehead.
“Half-fiend?”
Daemon looked up from the rings to gaze upon what he could only describe as the most alluring vixen he has ever seen with the only possible exception being a brief, distant glimpse at Glasya when she visited Cania. But even that memory paled in comparison to the glorious specimen before him now. Daemon straightened to his full height and smiled wryly. "You caught me!" he said with obvious humor in his voice. "Half-devil to be precise, and what, may I ask what are you who is not afraid of one such as me?" He looked her over a moment and reconsidered his question, "My apologies I forget my manners, I am Daemon and may I have the pleasure of knowing who you are?", emphasis was put on the word 'who'.
"Don't worry, I won't tell anybody if you don't," she says with a grin. She extends her free hand and answers, "My name is Kryptis Arcanea."
Daemon took her hand lightly in his own, bowing slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you Kryptis," he looked towards the nervous merchant and continued " it's nice to meet someone who isn't so easily stricken by fear."
"It takes more than a set of horns and fluffy wings to strike fear into my heart" she says, grin still in place
Daemon extended one long wing and cocked his head to the side to look at it as if inspecting it. "Fluffy? I've never heard them described that way before." He said playfully. He shrugged and folded his wing back. "Though the wise fear me for my power, not my looks." as he said it he extended one hand towards the shopkeeper and with a whispered word summoned a flame to his palm. It swayed and danced in his palm the way only magic fire does. Daemon held it long enough for the merchant to cower a little more and then snuffed it out by closing his fist around it. After seeing the merchant's reaction he looked back to Kryptis and laughed very slightly in amusement.
"I was wondering if those really worked." she mused as she watched Daemon stretch the wing, carefully extending her arm to lightly poke at his feathers with her staff. She spared a brief glance at his flaming hand and noted that it was pointed in the shopkeeper's direction.
"So, what brings you so far from home? Out collecting unsuspecting souls to drag screaming back to hell, are we?"
"Oh yes, they work quite well" He paused a moment at her words. "Something like that but first I have a few of my own ambitions to achieve. Though being new to the area I haven't any idea where to really begin." He said with great insinuation, returning her smile.
"Don't look at me, I'm new here too. I haven't even been in town long enough for a bath...." she said, looking down and brushing at a patch of ash dirtying her bustier.
"I meant far more than this town...but I suppose a bath will do to start, that is unless you would mind company." The smile was nearly gone from his face and he spoke plainly, he did not want to give the impression of purely carnal intentions. "I imagine one who is afraid of neither devils nor magic could be of some use to me if it pleases her."
Kryptis looked up from brushing at the dust covering her and raised an eyebrow. "My, my, such a bold proposition for having just met... Are you asking to join me?"
Daemon smiled with general amusement. "Fortune favors the bold, as they say." and he left it at that, waiting for her response.
"Aha... I think not," she said with a slight smile. "Though, I've been a bit lonely traveling by myself. If you'd like to keep me company outside of the innroom, I might find that perfectly acceptable."
"As you wish." Daemon took the two rings off the counter and tossed them in his hand. "I believe my business here is concluded." He tossed a pouch on the counter that jingled with an unmistakable ring.
"Well I've ony just arrived, so I need a moment yet." She smiles at him and moves to another display, passing over rows of jewelry and potion bottles. She stops to inspect a wand and asks, "So, what ambitions could a devil have that precede soul-gathering?"
Daemon watched her lithe form move about the shop and could not restrain his admiration for such beauty, he forced his face to remain bland as he watched her. "Souls can provide great power to those who know how to use them, much like a tool, but my ambition is for power in true form, power no one can take away from me. I seek the power to take what I want, the freedom to give what I want." He placed the slightest emphasis on the word "give". So enamored was he with her that he began to wonder if he had been enchanted. He brushed the notion aside thinking his will to not be so easily swayed, though he knew not her level of ability. Her weapon spoke of physical combat but the twisted black staff was a wizards tool. Thinking of his own abilities he felt they may have more in common than a love of intimidating shopkeepers.
She leaned forward as he spoke, more closely inspecting a small plaque beside where the wand had sat. She quietly mouthed the command word inscribed there, sighing softly as the magic took effect and her bruises faded. She invoked the wand's magic again, this time fully removing the marks. Then she set the wand back it place and picked up an identical one beside it. "And how do plan to achieve such power?" she asked as she pored over the remaining displays, finally reaching the counter across from the trader and began counting out coins.
His answer was simple. "Through subtle influence and severe action."
"The detail astounds me," she said with a grin over her shoulder. She finished counting out coins and slid the wand into a small sheath with a pair of others and turned back to him before announcing, "I'm done here. Shall we go?" and held out her arm.
Daemon shrugged at the comment. Pleased at the gesture Daemon turned and offered the bend of his arm to escort her out of the shop, which would most likely be much to the merchant's liking. "As you wish."
She took his elbow and led the way out of the shore. "Good. Now, I need a new bedroll. I lost mine a few days ago. Help me find a shop that sells them," she said as she pulled him along down the street.
"I know just the one." Daemon led her a short ways to a wagon merchant who was highly dismayed at Daemon's return. "This fine gentlemen will provide you with whatever you need, isn't that right?" The merchent, a pudgy little man with bulging brown eyes shuddered a nod. "Y..yes ma'am...a..anything you want." He was now sweating quite profusely and was all over a disgusting sight.
Kryptis wrinkled her nose at the sight of the man, and did her best to just ignore him as she poked through his goods. After a few moments search she pulled out a roll of soft grey fabric. She spread it out to inspect it, finding it of higher quality than the rest. She rolled it back up and carried it back to the merchant. "How much for this one?" she asked, holding it to her chest to keep the trader from sweating all over it.
As scared as he was the merchant was caught by Kryptis' beauty as so many men probably were. He leaned forward on his cart and made gross attempt at being smooth. "Fer you m'dear, think of it as a gift, hehheh." It just came off greasy.
"Oh, uh... thank you..." She forced a smile and took a long step back before dipping in a short bow, then she took Daemon's elbow again and pulled him along down the street. "I have to buy some food before we leave, but until then I'm done shopping. Did you have anything you need to do here?"
Daemon grimaced at the fool on the cart before turning to go with Kryptis. "Fortunately I have already finished with my purchases, so our next destination is at your perogative. I believe you had wished for a bath and a bed?”
"Yes, it will be good to finally wash this filth away," she said, again pawing at her coating of dust. She looked up and spotted a tavern, and started pulling Daemon in its direction. "Though that can wait until after a meal."
Daemon fell in step and opened the doors to the tavern. "Let's hope the chef is less greasy"
"One can only hope." She passed through the doors and approached a table near to the fireplace, leaning her staff agaisnt the table, setting her new bedroll on the bench and shrugged off her pack, placing it against the bedroll. Then she took her seat and waited for the serving wench.
A red haired bar maid approached warily, trying to seem nonchalant. Normally, she would have been a decent catch but next to Kryptis she looked like a worn old hag. "What's your pleasure?" Daemon sat quietly looking at the fire playing with one of the new rings on his finger.
"Your finest wine, and whatever passes for good food around here." She eyed Daemon sitting quietly across the table and asked, "Do you eat, or does watching a flame sustain you?"
The barmaid was taken aback by the vague order but bustled off nonetheless, not wanting to linger. Daemon looked up from the flames. "I may when I wish but I no longer require food," He said showing the ring on his left hand. "This place seems hardly worth the effort. Though I think..." Daemon reached into a pouch on his side far too deeply to look normal and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. "...I may be able to provide the wine." He set out the glasses and began to pour, first her glass then his own.
"Wine from the Hells, hmm?" She reached out and took a glass, holding it under her nose to sample its scent. "It's not going to enchant me, or damn my soul, is it?" she asked with a smile.
Daemon smiled and took up his own glass. "I assure you Lady Kryptis, that your soul is of far more value to me inside your body, though you may be enchanted by its quality. It's nearly as old as I am and garnished more than a few coins from my purse." He extended his glass to her in a silent gesture of salutation.
She extended her glass as well, lightly tapping it to his so that they rang, then withdrew and sipped at the wine. "It is good. You spent the coin well."
Daemon sipped his own, closing his eyes a moment to fully enjoy the drink. He opened his eyes again to stare at the fire while speaking. "So, tell me what are your ambitions in this world?"
"I wish to learn all that I can, especially concerning magic, and... certain creatures," she replied, moving her free hand up to brush her fingertips over her skeletal necklace.
"Knowledge of the Arcane is something I'm sure we can share with one another, one can only benifit from the knowledge of others. As for these creatures," Daemon turned back to her. "they wouldn't happen to be of my ilk would they?"
She gave a soft laugh and said, "Well, oddities like you are always interesting, that isn't quite what I meant." She moved her hand to one side of her neck and pulled lightly on the necklace, sending the skeleton's dangling legs swaying over her collarbones.
Daemon's face turned to an expression of understanding. "Ah, you mean the dead, or in this case the undead." He looked consideringly at her. "Useful tools, being without the pesky free will of slaves and without the weaknesses of mortals, but most lack ingenuity." He shrugged, ruffeling dark crimson wings. "An intriguing art, Necromancy, a dark art for which I have a healthy appreciation, though my skills lie elsewhere currently. Have you some particular use for such tools, some result you wish to achieve?"
"Yes, they are," she said, running the tip of her index finger over one of the longer ivory beads adorning the strand. "but those that lack intelligence aren't in need of it.
No, I have no particular plans in mind for them. They simply intrigue me."
Daemon took another sip of his wine while listening. "So you have the motivation and the tools but lack specific direction. I have direction but am in need of such tools, and of guidence in a world alien to me. We both seek knowledge and we both want for better things I am sure." He left it as a statement but the question lay in his eyes.
"Hah.. almost. I do not possess the tools quite yet. Thus far I can only conjure one of the mindless drones. But time will correct this mistake," she ends with a grin and sipped again from her glass.
"Time is something I think we have plenty of, you of a long lived race and I immune to its ravages. Long years are ahead, of studying by candlelight the secrets of magic and craftwork...one could grow mad with nothing but books and secrets to keep her company."
"True, true. I fear this madness may already be upon me," she said with a grin, melodramatically fanning her face with one hand. "What ever shall I do to remedy this?"
Daemon grinned, showing pearly fangs. "A suitable companion is a difficult thing to find." He sipped his wine again. "Good company is so often wasted on the unworthy." He relaxed back in his chair and mused to himself for her benefit. "But then worth can only be determined through time and that denotes risk." Daemon looked back to Kryptis. "Is it worth it?" He would let her come to him now, let her do some chasing so that it was not only he who wanted. To need someone is to be vulnerable, and Daemon wanted to make sure he was not the only one to be so.
Kryptis shrugged and replied, "One gains nothing without taking chances. A better question might be 'is it worth it to not take that risk'?" She took a longer sip of her drink, watching Daemon over the glass.
Daemon smiled, "Good answer" and he raised his glass to her again.
"Well of course it is, I'm the one who gave it." She said with a wide grin as she raised her glass and clinked it to his again.
The wench finally returned with what she guessed was the house's best meal, steak. Medium rare and nearly a full pound. Served with sliced potatoes and a whole loaf of bread. She laid it in front of Kryptis and scurried away. Daemon looked at the meal and thought a little better of the place, but there were more interesting things going on. "So then Lady Kriptis what's next? Besides your meal of course."
She picked up her fork and knife and, in a well-practiced and proper manner, cut a small piece out of the steak and ate it before answering. "After this? I think a bath and bed are in order, and after I awaken I plan on stalking you, if you are still around. Which I am certain you will be." She smiles pleasantly at him as she carves the next piece of her steak. "What are your plans?"
Daemon's brows rose for a moment before ginning sinfully at her, "Oh, very much the same thing, though I see neither of us being the prey, only two hunters, this should be interesting." He finished off his wine and sat the glass on the table.
She giggled and said, "They say great minds think alike. Glad to see you can keep up." She grinned widely and popped the next piece of steak into her mouth.
He laughed a little as well, he found it amazing that he could be enjoying himself so much, 'This world is truly mine for the taking.' he thought. He wanted to ask if she was sure she didn't want company for her bath but thought it best to save that for later. He was happy to sit by the fire and enjoy his new life, admiring the vixen across from him. Silently content for now but his lusts were many and never slaked for long.

Name: Tinuviel
Race: 1/4 elf, 1/4 cervedal, 1/2 human
Class: archivist (level 4)
Age: 20
Height: about 5 feet
Weight: 110 lbs
HP: 25
AC: 16
Order of Attributes: INT 18, WIS 16, CON 13, CHA 14, DEX 10, STR 9
Saves: FORT 5, REF 1, WILL 7
Skills: concentration 8, decipher script 4, gather information 4, knowledge arcana 8, knowledge dungeoneering 8, knowledge religion 8, knowledge planes 8, spellcraft 8
Weapons: dagger, sling
Armor: chainshirt
Items: scholars clothes, ribbon of intellect
Spells Per Day: 4 0 level, 5 1st level, 4 2nd level, 3 3rd level
Spells Known: All cantrips, 9 1st level, 4 2nd level, 2 3rd level
1st Level: Cure Light Wounds, Summon Monster I, Command, Comprehend Languages, Hide From Undead, Inflict Light Wounds, Grave Strike, Healthful Rest, Light of Lunia
2nd Level: Cure Moderate Wounds, Summon Monster II, Summon Elysian Thrush, Zone of Truth
3rd Level: Cure Serious Wounds, Summon Monster III
Languages: common, Elven, Celestial, Infernal, Abyssal
Special: immune to sleep, cervedal horns (healing only), dark knowledge (tactics) x 4 daily, lore mastery, still mind, dark knowledge (puissance)