Character Index

Age: several millennia (suspected)
Alignment: NE
Gender: female
Race: Arcanaloth
Class(s): Sorcerer 7
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: *icy glare*
Build: lean, tailored by innate shapechange to fit the present Sigil ideal of beauty
Skin: light coppery brown fur w/ white touches on her muzzle
Eye Color(s): greyish green normally, but variable to fit her mood
Clothing: Green evening gown of tiny glass beads strung on ultra-fine wire. Chinks with the faintest movement. Her attire may vary by the occasion as may specific physical features and she's been known to go to great lengths to be the most extravagantly dressed person at any formal functions.

Accessories: Tiara made of still living razorvine, random variety of rings, necklaces, bracelets, amulets, pins and other baubles. Some may be magical, but most are purely decorative.

Always accompanied by at least 3-4 well dressed, and armed, tieflings, one of whom (typically the one named Colcook) carries an ornate silver mirror [Mirror of Mental Prowess]. The tieflings are, on average, male tieflings Rogue 5, ranging up to dual classed rogue/assassins.

Bio: “It's hard being a voice of reason isn't it? I mean, so much in Sigil would go so much better, and it'd no longer be the cesspool of corrupt dealings, bubbers, and berks that it so often is, if only I got my way. Simple as that, I tell you." – Shemeska the Marauder

The disarmingly charming, self-titled King of the Crosstrade has amassed more personal power in the aftermath of the Tempest of Doors than any other cutter in Sigil. Her spies and informants within the factions have rapidly mutated, almost overnight, into a wide-ranging and deep network of contacts within the new and growing organizations in a still rebuilding and reorganizing Sigil. In the confusion that followed the Faction War, with a mixture of threats, garnish, and outright blackmail, the fiend has secured even more individuals squarely in the palm of her furry, taloned hand.

Shemeska appears as do most arcanaloths, though with a head that is more fox than jackal, and that she is more vain and pretentious if it were at all possible. Her tawny, coppery-colored fur is kept impeccably groomed by a cadre of tiefling groomer-guards that surround her at all times, each of them trained as no mere toady, but as assassins of the highest order. She keeps herself adorned with a nearly garish array of rings, bracelets, earrings, and other adornments, each of them fit for royalty. She normally wraps her body in a tight, slender strapless gown supposedly given to her by a former, and long dead, lover within the Sensates. The fabric appears to shimmer a mix of blue, green, and violet and makes a delicate tinkling noise as it shifts whenever she moves. In fact, the cloth is composed of thousands of tiny colored glass beads strung upon ultra-fine wire and spun together as cloth. The fiend’s most trademark apparel, however, is the tiara of still living razorvine she wears upon her head, perched between her two ears that coils in brambles like some evilly twisted crown.

She is self-serving above all, can appear gracious and polite if needed, but always enters any discussion or bargaining from a position of power. She may toss out at random in a conversation some damaging or closely held secret of a visitor just to garner a reaction or impress upon them just how far her ears, and claws, reach into Sigil’s society on so many levels. At times, she may simply ignore someone speaking to her and admire her own reflection as she or one of her groomers adjusts some minor feature on her tiara, or a bit of fur out of place. She might break off a conversation mid point to probe the speaker about their feelings on a new ring or earring of hers, maybe even if the color of a gown or sash she’s wearing matches best with her eye color that day. But the mercurial Arcanaloth has a temper to match her vanity, and the slightest displeasure has been known to cause her to fly into one of her famed public temper tantrums, which typically end poorly for the sod that caused her to become unhinged.

All of her power runs just below the surface of polite society, and while her status and order of business is the single worst kept secret in Sigil, she longs to have some actual pull in the Sigil advisory council, especially as how Estavan the Ogre Mage managed to get himself elected to it. Currently she’s wooing and playing the infernal temptress to both representative Holmin and Cirily of the Council, offering advancement of their ideas both inside and outside of official city business in ways only she can offer, the price negotiable of course. Her dance with Cirily is more cautious, what with the eladrin’s natural suspicion of the fiend, but Shemeska plays enough to the ideals of the nearly fallen celestial that a working relationship may soon be more than a pipedream.

Aside from the advisory council, the Marauder has been the force behind the rise of Kylie the Tout in the newly formed Escorts Guild and Touts Guild. It seems the fiend has an interest in keeping Kylie safe. Rumor has it the tiefling may even be related to Shemeska by way of couplings best left to rumor, but it’s more likely that Shemeska simply intends to snag power from her once the guild grows and reaches the level of competence she desires.

As an aside, Shemeska used to be called ShemesHka. It seems recently the fickle and self-obsessed arcanaloth up and changed the spelling and pronunciation of her name and, without spreading the word of the change, has expected everyone to call her properly by the new version. She’s lately been taking a nearly perverse pleasure in correcting and at times mocking those sods that say it wrong by accident, and in one case had the offending berk who called her the wrong name on purpose taken behind the Fortunes Wheel gambling hall and beaten to within an inch of his life. Inside she acted as if nothing untoward had happened at all, and returned to her dinner and any callers seeking to buy or sell information.

Peter Garnett - Bio

Age: 19
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5' 4"
Weight: a bit heavy for his size
Build: not particularly muscular
Skin: "White"
Eye Color: Blue
Clothing: Durable pants with too many pockets, thin blue undershirt, thick gray jacket (not always wearing this), and ratty boots.
"Equipment": Enourmous backpack filled with notes from Mimir.net and the completed (!!) Planescape 3e Conversion, trail rations, and various and sundry utility items.

Peter Garnett arrived on the planar scene by stumbling across a portal found in a mall in New Jersey. This being a one-way portal, he has found himself caught in the multiverse-at-large. Thankfully, he's equipped with a certain amount of information and other items useful for survival in the planes... but with absolutely no common sense about how day-to-day life here works.

As far as personality is concerned, Pete is staunchly Lawful Good and feels an intense concern for the troubles of others. However, this idealism has somewhat been put on hold due to the challenge of finding some livelihood in Sigil, his current location.

In game terms Peter is a 1st level Expert with skills in the common college GE battery. In other words he's totally useless in a scratch.

Also he has the quirk of having mispronounced "Sihjill" for so long that he's gonna keep calling it that for a while.

Nordom the Rogue Modron
Age: Eight years (from time Nordom went Rogue)
Alignment: Unknown. Although Nordom acts in a random manner, the rogue still expresses a fondness for order while simultaneously admonishing any lawful behavior that may inhibit individuality. Some sages speculate this behavior may be classified as insanity, at least by modron standards.
Gender: N/A
Race: Modron
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 600 lbs
Build: Cubical
Skin: Organic skin: Brown; Metalic Components: Tarnished Beige
Eyes: Black
Clothing: None (Unnecessary)
Accessories: At the end of two of the four of Nordom's arms are two gear spirits in the form of crossbows. Designated 'A-1' and 'A-2', they apparently advise the modron on social interaction with other beings. Why they are loyal to a rogue modron is unknown.
Bio: Nordom was ordered by its superiors to oversee the project RUBIKON, a modron experiment to bring order to the chaos of Limbo in the form a dungeon simulator, when the former Manager was slain by one of the RUBIKON constructs. Unfortunately, Nordom was exposed to a particularly potent chunk of chaos while on RUBIKON, and went rogue. The modron now spends all its time learning about individuality and searching for clues to the whereabouts of its friend and new superior, a being known in Sigil as "The Nameless One."

Center-of-All

Age: Unknown, probably very old
Gender: Male, presumably
Race (human, fiend type, celestial, etc): Rilmani, Aurumach
Height: Probably around 12 feet
Weight: Enough to fit his build
Build: Muscular, strong
Skin (hair, feather, scale, or skin): Golden-hued skin
Color(s): Gold
Eye Color(s): Gold
Clothing: Unnecessary
Accessories (catch all): Unnecessary
Special Effects (if any): Aurumach Aura

Nothing, or at least next-to-nothing, is known about the darks surrounding the mysterious and elusive Rilmani leader. Many a graybeard has speculation about the nature of his existence, and many more say that there is no Center-of-All. If he does exist, it is presumed that he is the primary coordinator of all Rilmani activities in the Multiverse. Some suggest that he is a consort of the Lady of Pain or, perhaps is the Lady of Pain. Regardless, very few people -- even those who make their homes in rilmani territory -- can honestly claim to have seen Center-of-All and recognized him for who he is. His powers can be assumed to be, at minimal, the same as an aurumach but if he is truly the leader of the Rilmani, his abilities are probably on par with the demon lords of the Abyss and the Lords of the Nine of Baator, at least.

Primus, the One and the Prime

Age Since the beginning of time... or thereabouts....
Gender None
Race Modron (Or more accurately he IS the modron race)
Height NA
Weight NA
Build NA
Skin: Glowey; Right Hand cloaked in Shadow; Left hand cloaked in rainbows.
Eye Color(s): NA
Clothing: None
Accessories (catch all): None
Special Effects (if any): Deity of Regulus; Ability to send a sod to Acheron with shadow hand; Ability to send a sod to Arcadia with rainbow hand.

Lord of Order; Master of the Clockwork; The One and the Prime; Primus is the power level leader/father/central consciousness of the modron race. Charged with preserving the Order of Mechanus (and possibley the entire multiverse) Primus cares nothing for other beings. His only thought is for the Order which he preserves using his Orrerry to watch the multiverse.

The One and Prime has, by all accounts, existed since the creation of Order. But the role of Primus is not a person, it is a station. As the modrons are a race of completely interchangeable beings so can their leader be replaced. With his sheer power it is hard to destroy Primus, but even dieties can die under the right circumstances. Not long ago the reigning Primus was slain by the undead shade Tenebruous utilizing the power of the Last Word. Once Orcus left Regulus a Secundus was promoted up to Primus level and the newly born power returned to rebuilding its plans.

Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Tiefling
Height: 6'
Weight: 175
Build: Slight, but strong
Skin: Dark grey
Eye Color: Black
Clothing: Studded Leather Armor
Accessories: One Runic Long Spear and a backpack
Special Effects: All the typical Teifling stuff

Bio: Lok is a low level fighter with aspirations of finding a calling. He has practiced long and hard with a Long spear making it his specialized weapon. The spear he wields is a family heriloom said to posses great power. While unbreakable, the weapon does not seem to do anything out of the ordinary.

Lok is a quiet chap who keeps to himself. He tries to help those in need, but understands the basic needs of his body. Luckily, being able to eat anything for sustanance is good.

As a younger, dumber adventurer, barely into his teens, he and a group of friend stumbled into a very unpleasant place and were trapped. After a few years he foudn himself back in the Planes, older. Upon returning home, his family had aged beyond him. Old, his parents rejoiced as they could, but the celebration was bitter-sweet. Lok was the only one to return. His loss had been a strain upon them, and his return a blessing. His parents passed away a few months after his return, happy in famlial bliss. After seeing to them and teh estate, Lok set out at once.

His mind holds no memory of the place they went, nor why he was the only one to return. His wanderings now are a quest to find his friends.

Lok's Spear: The Spear is a weapon handed down to Lok from his forefathers. Or at least that is what he thinks. In truth, his family has never possessed the spear before. Lok was a Swordsman, not a spearman by training. Upon his return, however, it seems the spear has always been with him. Others who remember him may or may not remember this fact.

The Spear is an artifact of ancient origins. When confronted with an enemy of considerable strength, the spear begins to act as a siphon. With a successful strike, the magical link is established between Lok and the target creature. The two entities begin to mingle. Lok will begin to acquire traits of the target beast. However, these traits will expose themselves in "demonic" type alterations to his appearance. All such power drains are at the discretion of the GM.

The drawback to this is Lok's loss of self. The more power he acquires with the spear, the more dependant upon it he becomes. The spear is an intelligent weapon that needs a host such as Lok. Once the spear attains enough power and the host loses enough of his or her 'being' it takes control. The host becomes the instrument of the weapon.

Luckily, Lok has a strong will and has of yet not run across any creatures that the Spear has deemed worthy of its powers. Such events can be discussed in game with GM permission.

The spear, being an intelligent, forsaken artifact holds certain abilities. It does grant a mild improvement in combat efficiency being magical. The spear is also unbreakable by any conventional mean. Once again, GM has certain sway over this power. I would ask for discussion since this artifact is such an integral part of my player. Other powers can be related if appropraite. The Spear is a magical siphon and may draw power into itself that way, however it does not transfer said energy into Lok and Uses it at its discretion.

Fighter 7
Neutral Good

Strength 17 (+3)
Dexterity 15 (+2)
Constitution 12 (+1)
Intelligence 12 (+1)
Wisdom 9 (-1)
Charisma 9 (-1)

Size: Medium
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 180 lb
Skin: Gray
Eyes: Red
Hair: White; Straight; Beardless

Total Hit Points: 60

Speed: 30 feet
Armor Class: 15 = 10 +3 [studded] +2 [dexterity]

Touch AC: 12
Flat-footed: 13
Initiative modifier: +2 = +2 [dexterity]
Fortitude save: +6 = 5 [base] +1 [constitution]
Reflex save: +4 = 2 [base] +2 [dexterity]
Will save: +1 = 2 [base] -1 [wisdom]
Attack (handheld): +10/+5 = 7 [base] +3 [strength]
Attack (unarmed): +10/+5 = 7 [base] +3 [strength]
Attack (missile): +9/+4 = 7 [base] +2 [dexterity]
Grapple check: +10/+5 = 7 [base] +3 [strength]

Light load:86 lb. or less
Medium load:87-173 lb.
Heavy load:174-260 lb.
Lift over head:260 lb.
Lift off ground:520 lb.
Push or drag:1300 lb.

Languages: Abyssal Common

Long Spear [1d8, crit x3, 9 lb., two-handed, pirecing]
Longbow [1d8, crit x3, range inc. 100 ft, 3 lb, piercing]
Studded armor [light; +3 AC; max dex +5; check penalty -1 20 lb.]

Feats:
Blind-fight
Combat Reflexes
Power Attack
Cleave
Quick Draw
Weapon Focus x1 Weapon(s): Long Spear
Weapon Specialization x1 Weapon(s): Long Spear

Skill
Appraise Int 1 = +1
Balance Dex* 2 = +2
Bluff Cha 1 = -1 +2 [tiefling]
Climb Dex* 8 = +2 +5
Concentration Con 1 = +1
Craft_1 Int 1 = +1
Craft_2 Int 1 = +1
Craft_3 Int 1 = +1
Diplomacy Cha -1 = -1
Disguise Cha -1 = -1
Escape Artist Dex* 2 = +2
Forgery Int 1 = +1
Gather Information Cha -1 = -1
Heal Wis -1 = -1
Hide Dex* 4 = +2 +2 [tiefling]
Intimidate Cha 9 = -1 +10
Jump Str* 8 = +3 +5
Knowledge (planes) Int 3.5 = +1 +2.5
Listen Wis -1 = -1
Move Silently Dex* 2 = +2
Perform_1 Cha -1 = -1
Perform_2 Cha -1 = -1
Perform_3 Cha -1 = -1
Perform_4 Cha -1 = -1
Perform_5 Cha -1 = -1
Ride Dex 2 = +2
Search Int 1 = +1
Sense Motive Wis -1 = -1
Spot Wis -1 = -1
Survival Wis -1 = -1
Swim Str** 8 = +3 +5
Use Rope Dex 2 = +2
* = check penalty for wearing armor

Tiefling
+2 dexterity, +2 intelligence, -2 charisma (already included)
+2 on listen and spot checks (already included)
Darkness once per day
Darkvision (see 60 feet in pitch-dark)
Cold, fire, && electricity resistance 5
"Native outsider." Check with your referee.
Level adjustment +1

Class HP rolled
Level 1: Fighter 10
Level 2: Fighter 4
Level 3: Fighter 8
Level 4: Fighter 8 +1 to strength
Level 5: Fighter 8
Level 6: Fighter 5
Level 7: Fighter 10

Age: 72
Gender: Male
Race: Human (prime)
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 145 lbs.
Build: Bony
Hair: White with grey streaks
Skin: Caucasian
Eyes: Hazel
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Class: Expert 7/Rogue 5
Clothing: Brownish-green tweed suit with leather patches sewn on the elbows and brown suit pants.

Appearence:
Standing before you is a kindly-looking, bookish old man with unkempt hair and a pair of bifocal specticals on his nose. His style of dress is unusual and his mannerisms are strange, so you note him as a prime instantly. Upon seeing you, the man greets you warmly and holds out his arm to shake your hand. The man, for some reason, reminds you of your dear old grandpa (assuming your race has grandparents).

Possessions:
Books of all shapes and sizes are kept back at his kip. Mostly history and language books.
His pet Lim-lim named Maggie (after his late wife)
Large hunting knife (Masterwork Dagger) which he knows how to use with suburb skill.
A gold pocketwatch that hasn't worked since he arrived on Sigil.
Smith and Wesson Revolver (2d8 piercing damage; Critical 20). He rarely uses it due to the fact that, he may have plenty of bullets, but he has no way to buy more.

Bio:
Professer Edward Davis was born in Cardiff, Wales. He is the son of Rupert and Alice Davis. Edward was always sharp, even as a child, therefore it was no surprise to anyone when he admitted to the University of Liverpool at the mere age of 15 years.

After receiving his Ph.D is History and Linguistics, the Cold War was reaching its peak, so Edward was offered a position in British Intelligence at the age of 27. The first few years, he worked mostly behind a desk decoding intercepted Soviet messages. However, his quick wits, staggering intelligence and physical prowess eventually landed him a job as a full-blown field agent. During that time, he made quite a name for himself among those with the security clearence to read up on his many wild and dangerous exploits.

After he married Maggie, at the age of 43, he retired from his dangerous line of work to concentrate on his new family. He accepted a job as a history professor at Cambridge University and taught there for many years until his beloved wife died from Heart Disease three years ago.

When his wife died, he promptly retired from teaching (getting his gold pocketwatch) and moved back to his parent's house in Wales. There, he would spend most of his time reading on his couch and waiting impatiently for his years to finally catch up with him so he could join his wife.

One day, he woke up to find a loud racket outside his house and a disgusting smog rolling in his open windows. He bolted out of bed in his shower robe to give those loud young punks a piece of his mind. But when he looked out the front door, he found that he wasn't in his usual neighborhood.

He was in a city.

He turned around to find that his whole house had been transported to this bizarre place. Full of twisted creatures that seemed straight out of legend. His first thought to himself was, "Am I dead?" He quickly dismissed that idea. Unless he wanted to accept that his entire house and all its contents died with him.

When he recovered from the shock of it all, a sly smile started to form on his lips. Maybe this was a sign. A sign that the old man's life is far from over. A sign that as long as he wasn't dead, he still had a life to live. He looked out into the city and found an oppertunity for more adventures, more excitment, more things to learn. His new life begins now.

As he stepped off the porch, two young ladies glanced at him briefly and giggled. The old man looked down to realize that he was still in his bathrobe and in all the confusion he didn't notice it come undone.

He quickly covered himself and ran back into his house to get changed...

Things of Note:
1) Due to his years as a field agent, Professor Davis can hold his own in a fight despite his age and style of dress.
2) Edward is a complete whiz in linguistic and it never takes him very long to learn a new language.
3) He will sometimes pass himself off as an absent-minded old prime to catch those who would take advantage of him offguard.
4) He tends to speak his mind.

Name: Malkatel, the black eared trader
Age: Unknown, appears to be in his early 20’s, but with his parentage he could be well over 200. No one remembers him further back than 10 years ago.
Gender: Male
Race: Half arcanaloth or at least that’s what most people guess and what he says when pressed.
Height: 5’5”
Weight: 180lbs
Build: Appears lean, and muscular when he want to look it.
Skin: A tawny and fairly well groomed brown fur covers his body, with black around his muzzle and eartips. He can be and often is mistaken for an arcanaloth fullblood.
Eye Color: A deep emerald green.
Clothing: Tan with bright ruby red trim robes as well as a belt with many pouches and other places to store baubles for trade.
Accessories: Belt of many pouches;
Special Effects: Change self at will, and limited shape changing abilities but not full shape change like a full ‘loth

A young looking arcanaloth half-breed, Malkatel, plies his trades mostly around the market district and through the clerk’s lady’s and lower wards. He mostly deals in oddities, and hard-to-find magic items and spell components, luxury goods. Notably, he is rumored to have been the cutter who got Shemeska’s favorite set of combs for the poor sod who gave them to her. The sod disappeared but she reportedly kept the name of the sod’s merchant—good grooming utensils can be so hard to come by.
As far as anyone who knows him can remember Malkatel has always been around, though some remember him as a young boy, while some remember him as he is now. Though, it has been only since the faction wars have his stock begun to rise above the common cutters in the cage.

Tal

Age: Unknown
Gender: Male
Race (human, fiend type, celestial, etc): Cuprilach Rilmani
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 185 lbs.
Build: Wiry and lean
Skin (hair, feather, scale, or skin): Metallic copper
Color(s): Copper
Eye Color(s): Ruby
Clothing: Assorted clothes that allow for hiding many objects for fighting dirty.
Accessories (catch all): Two copper shortswords, returning throwing-stars, other gear that's useful for stabbing, killing, spying, observing, sneaking, etc.
Special Effects (if any): Telepathy, spell-like abilities. He never flaunts the extent of his innate powers and so, like most rilmani, the exact nature of what he can do is often a mystery. (using 2e conversion, not the 3e version)

For rilmani, the cuprilach known as "Tal" is a bit unusual. He's not afraid to walk the streets of Sigil in his natural form, enjoying the mystique, suspicion, and curiousity others view him with. Seeing a rilmani and knowing it to be a rilmani is an unusual sight indeed.

He frequents Fortune's Wheel, where he likes to chat telepathically with Jemorille the Exile. Tal's proven quite effective in Sigil for assassination, subterfuge, and watching Jemorille, and so the Aurumachs usually leave him assigned to the City of Doors.

Tal doesn't talk much about himself, if at all. If he isn't talking about official business, he'll be as direct as a dwarf, but when asked about himself, official business, or the rilmani, he is as deceptively word-twisting and ambigious as any of his ilk. This proves to be a source of frustration for those greybeards who want to interview him about the rilmani, for those Sons of Mercy who want to arrest him, and for those fiends and other folk who want to peel him.

Jennifer
Sorcerer/Fighter

Age 24
Gender Female
Race Tiefling (Thinks she is human)
Height 5’6
Weight 130
Build Muscular and very lean
Skin Uncommonly Smooth and Pale
Hair Color Very Red (Tiefling trait)
Eye Color Blue
Clothing Brown Breeches, Green poet’s shirt, Black and Green Reversible heavy cloak. Soft riding boots.

Accessories: Satchel, Saber of Dancing + 5, Amulet of Protection +3, Ring of Invisibility, Ring of Spell Storing,

Background

Jennifer was engaged in a battle with Renegade Priest that had turned against the empire she served. Her companions and a mercenary band were trying to turn back the tide the battle that was going badly. Suddenly her fire elemental reacting Jennifer prepared to toss lighting trying to kill the priest and end the battle in one fell swoop. She cast the spell and suddenly felt light headed before a bright flash over toke her. She landed in a stone structure dazed she looked around and less than 10 seconds later she found herself standing in a street of a large filthy city (Sigil).

Alexander Falk Burel
Age: Uncertain due to erratic time in dreamlands. Appears around 20
Gender: Male
Race (human in dreamscape form.
Height: 6'3''
Weight: 150odd pounds
Eye Color: Incomplete domanience: Part green part blue
Clothing: Jeans, heavy shirt, Magical Cloak
Accessories: Cloak of utility: created by an unkown mage, this magical item has an extradimentional pocket into part of the dreamscapes, allowing unlimited storage space. In addition, it may be used to prduce any needed item up to 2,000 GP. The item vanishes at the end of the day. In addition, many items found in the dreamlands have been placed inside, including laptops, walkmen, gems, coins, books and other gewgaws.
Special Effects: Due to his dreamscape form, Alex may become incorpreal at will. In this form, however, he may be seen/heard as normal.

Background: Alex origenated on a backwater world known as Earth in the crystal sphere known as Truespace. For many years he sought a way to explore other worlds, until circumstances he does not wish to discuss forced him to seal himself in a hidden stasis chamber. Because of this he wandered the dreamlands for what feels liek decades until, in a freak encounter with a deity only known as Hypnos, he manifested in Sigil without the usage of a portal, which by all rights should be impossible. For the past several days he has been exploring the city, able to function without food or sleep due to his manifested condition. So far he is seriously considering joining the Sensates, who have been very interested with his tales of a technological world where magic is unkown and people use pieces of paper instead of metal as currency. As his homeworld had the details of the great ring published as a roleplaying game under the guise of fiction, he is knowladgeable about many things-many of which he will be willing to share.

Ah I didn't notice the edit button

Jack Planewalker’s guild tout, recruitment officer, and travlerer.

Age 42
Gender male
Race human
Height 5’11
Weight 170
Build Skinny and fragile looking (but actually very toned and fairly quick)
Skin slighty aging dark skinned
Hair Black starting to show spots of white
Eye Color(s) Black
Clothing He is wearing a slightly beat up cloak and nice clothes that look a little travel worn

Accessories Various instruments and varities of equipment back at his home in the market ward.

Spends money like someone who should be living in the lady’s ward but prefers people who are closer to their labors. Doesn’t mind hanging out with and can mingle with the richest lady or duke if needed but much prefers a dive bar or gambling joint with a basher or two. As long as they have a coin or two in their pocket and aren’t drinking watered down ale Jack can quickly become a friend. He lives his life for the next story and likes to fill his mug full of ale while telling his last story.

Age: 30ish
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 6ft
Weight: 70-80Kg
Build : Athletic
Skin: pale. but not unhealthy
Hair: Long, very dark blue. Often tied in ponytail.
Eye Color: Icey blue. Look rights through you.
Clothing: Always immaculately dressed. Smart, dark green clothing that offsets his hair and eyes.
Accessories: An odd necklace (just carries the scent of the corriander herb - nothing special!)

Bio:
Corriander is a sage who has, in the past, done rather well for himself. Distinguishable by his well kept, straight, long dark blue hair and his watery-but-piercing ice blue eyes, Corriander seems to just... pull information out of thin air. Indeed, people joke that if you can smell Corriander nearby, it's your memories drifting away.

Others point out this isn't a funny joke at all.

As for Corriander? Well, he doesn't much care, one way or another. He moves from commission to commission, accepting jobs, completing favours, and - occasionally and seemingly without any rhyme or reason - joining with adventuring parties on quests.

It's obvious Corriander is looking for something, but quite what it is, people are still trying to work out. Or then again, maybe Shemeska knows. After all, the Sage seems to have a healthy respect for her... or is it that he's avoiding the Arcanaloth?

Regardless, he seems to make himself scarce when her name is raised.

Specialities & Class:

18/05/04 - Not known (yet)

Other Notes:
18/05/04 - Corriander is in the Festhall. He visited a sensorium to record something, but seems like the 'recorder stone' shattered.

Also remember that not everyone on Earth knows about roleplaying games (especially Planescape). Edward is a good example of this. The only thing he knows about D&D was that one news story back in the early 80's where a bunch of drug-using RPer's killed a couple of people.

He also saw that one Tom Hanks movie, "Wizards and Warriors" once. That's pretty much it...

Enzo Sarlas

Enzo is a tall, wiry, 24 year-old tiefling dressed from neck to toe in dark, well-worn, traveling leathers. While his face is weathered and serious, his green eyes are bright and alert. His long, dark hair seems to be braided into thick locks that, when not tied back, sway and curl as if tossed by a strong wind. Upon closer inspection, one notices that his “hair” is actually a writhing mass of slender black snakes. Enzo’s serpentine hair is often a good indicator of his mood, swaying calmly when he is relaxed, writhing back and forth violently and hissing when he is agitated or threatened.

Enzo carries his belongings in a dark leather satchel, and the only weapon visible is a single dagger laced to his thigh. A short, dark scarf around his neck is sometimes used to cover his face against blowing dust or to hide his distinctive hair.

After a childhood of slavery and years afterward of solitary, almost feral existence on the perilous planes of Baator, Enzo’s got more than his share of emotional scars. As a result, he’s hard-hearted and holds little sympathy for others. He places trust in no one, instead relying on the only one he’s sure of – himself.

Understandably, he has little love for baatezu though he’ll deal with them as readily as any other. As for slavers, let’s just say Enzo’s got no problem slitting a sleeping man’s (or fiend’s) throat as long as it doesn’t interfere with business.

Enzo has worked hard to develop a solid reputation as a dependable courier who can be relied upon to protect both his clients’ packages and their privacy. However, his rising popularity among Sigil’s elite is a mixed blessing. Despite being a member in good standing of the Runners and Messengers Guild, he has attracted more than his fair share of attention from his perpetually armoured guildmaster, Autochon the Bellringer. But he’s willing to accept that… for now.

Kalos (Kal for short)

Age: Older than he looks...
Gender: Male
Race: WereTiger (though most think of him as a normal human)
Height: 6'1'' (in human form)
Weight: quite heavy
Build: Sleek, muscular
Skin: Lightly Tanned
Color: In hybird or Tiger form, he has white and black fur. His hair in human form is haggy and a dull light grey
Eye Color: Brown
Clothing: A loose shirt, baggy pants that just above each knee split along the sides to give two loose pieces of cloth hanging in front of and behind each lower leg, and wears a pair of well worn simple saddles.
Accessories: None
Classes: Ranger-Monk (probably planar ranger for UA)
Special Effects: Weretiger...

Kal believes that using maigc makes him weak, that he should rely on himself to overcome the challanges of the multiverse - as such he is a forsaker ( a feat I came up with that is along the same lines as Vow of poverty), and does not use magic items or accept any type of magic cast on him. He views the portals of the mutliverse simply as paths that naturally exsist that any one can use if they know how - its just that most mages think there're pretty good if they start getting involved with them..

Kal was abandoned by his parents when he hit his teens as they didn't really like the idea of him being some sort of wild animal (as neather of his parent were...). So he wandered the planes and finally found a teacher that taugh him of the skills of unarmed fighting. As he continued his studies, he relieased the power of his own mind (Wild Talent feat).

He has wander the planes (and a couple of primes) for years now, seeking to improve his skills and show others how to take their fates into their owns hands as he believes (unwritten destiny - Chapter 4)

Age: 17

Gender: Male.

Race: Human.

Height: 1 m 79 cm.

Weight: 68 kg.

Build: Skinny.

Skin: Pale(Scandinavian).

Eye Color: Dark green.

Clothing: Prefers green clothes. Usually wearing a dark green jacket, forest-green pants, a light green shirt and some rather plain brown skin boots.

Accessories: A tattered book in green hardcover, an ordinary quill pen, several silver pen-weapons(Writer is on what he likes to call 'bad terms' with shapechangers in general), a necklace consisting of a wing-feather and a piece of string and a bottle of ink.

Abilities: Writer can throw most everything smaller than a dagger with accuracy enough to be considered skilled at it.

Writer, as perhaps his name implies, can write. And he can write fast if the situation demands it. He manages perhaps several hundred words a minute when he is describing something down to the last minute detail. This is, though, only as long as he doesn't think about what he is writing and as long as he is merely recounting what his eyes see and his memory tells him. If he thinks about something and/or waxes philosophical then he'll write a good deal slower, but still at a considerable speed. Some of this is because of natural talent, a quick mind and training under a scribe but for the most part he is boosted by his book's mysterious powers.

Writer knows some magic spells and is good enough to be an above-average dabbler in the Art. His magic is nearly sorcerer-like in its aspect, though, since the skill comes directly from the book(See below).

Special Effects: Writer apparently owns--although the truth may be quite the opposite--a book which is sentient and alive...In a way. The book is unable to communicate directly, indeed, it is unable to communicate anything other than feelings and that is only by dint of a soul-bond to the young man. Its mind, though, is strange and alien enough to make those feelings hard to 'read' properly by anyone, so most of the times it prefers to act the inanimate object through and through. A simple detect magic spell, however, should show the caster that the book is -anything- but normal.

The book is the reason for Writer's name, as, since he came in possession of it--or it of him--, he has felt a urge to write down everything he experiences and sees and even seek out new experiences to write down and has not felt comfortable with any other name. The book, as far as Writer can tell, does not run out of pages, and not a few previous writers seem to have been in possession of it, or so it seems from what he is able to decipher of their earlier scribblings. Writer believes himself to be the newest Writer in a long line 'Writers'.

Backstory: Writer is...Unsure how he came to end up in Sigil. For someone who claims to have a near-perfect memory that can be worrysome. His most recent memories before stepping out of a portal in the Lower Ward was working for an organisation of some kind, but cannot remember neither the name of it nor what the organisation's agenda was. He get odd--and nearly always traumatical--flashbacks every now and then which he forget again immediately afterwards...Something that leads him to suspect he is suppressing his own memories. He also has an item he cannot remember procuring, a strange necklace made of a strange wing-feather and a piece of string. The truth about it all is probably written in his book, but so far Writer hasn't dared check it out. After all, there's probably a good reason for repressing his own memories.

Sample art of Writer: BIG kudos to Graham and Clae, artists of extrordinary skill and generosity.

NB! For all you mind-readers out there, Writer exists in a perpetual state of remembering everything in his life at once and is soul-bound to an alien entity/conscious. This, I believe, will make it somewhat difficult for yon average thought-reader to get a clear reading of 'im. Anyone trying to muck about in his memory or learn his thoughts will have to send me a PM(private message) so we can try to work out what you'll find out.

Age: Unknown (assumed almost as old as the planes themselves)
Alignment: CN
Gender: Male
Race: Tiefling/Chaond (Half human, one fourth demon, one fourth slaadi)
Height: Slightly variable (5'6"-6')
Weight: Again, slightly variable (180-250 lbs.)
Build: Average
Skin: Tiny scales, not enough to protect or hinder movement, but enough to give his skin a rough-yet-smooth texture
Colors: Slowly changing between white, bright red, and dark green
Eye Colors: Depends on mood
Clothing: A cloak with a hood, usually to hide himself as to not scare others by his changing skin and eyes
Accessories: The Chaos Shifter
Special Effects: Darkvision, fiendish blood/slaadi blood

Bio: Back when the planes were formed, before they were split, interplanar mating was common. Two such pairs of mating were the pairs of Chaotic Myth's grandparents. The pair that bore his half-fiend father consisted of a human woman and a powerful demon known as Shalnath, once lord of a layer of the Abyss. The pair the bore his half-slaad mother were a female gray slaadi and a strong male human. When the planes began to break, the half-bloods had to choose which plane they would live on, while their parents would be split. Chaotic Myth's parents both chose to go to the prime material. There they met and eventually had a son, who they never named. Soon after his birth, but before they could decide on a name, an interplanar war broke out between the Abyss and Baator. This was before the boundaries between the planes were completely formed, so the fiendish war raged over the prime material. Shalnath called his son back to the Abyss to help with defending it, so Chaotic Myth's father returned, sending his wife and son to Limbo to live with Chaotic Myth's grandmother. The war ended upon the rising of Asmodeus to the seat of power in Baator*, but before Asmodeus gained control Shalnath and Chaotic Myth's father were both slain. When he became old enough, Chaotic Myth left Limbo to traverse the planes and get revenge on the Baatorian who led the war that killed his father. Since then, Chaotic Myth has forgotten his original name, now choosing to use the name Chaotic Myth, and allowing any who he becomes friends with to call him "CM". As a chaond, many of his physical qualities change from time to time. He has traversed many of the planes and has uncanny knowledge about them. He still wishes to reach Cania, the Eighth Hell of Baator, and defeat the archdevil Mephistopheles to avenge the death of his father.

*There is a rule of Baator which follows; whomever rules the deepest of the hells rules ALL of the hells. This continuity assumes that during the war there were only EIGHT hells, and the lord of the Eighth, Mephistopheles, commanded the Baatorian armies. This war ended when Asmodeus founded Nessus, the Ninth Hell, and thus gained control over all the hells.

The Chaos Shifter:

The Chaos Shifter was something Chaotic Myth found shortly after leaving Limbo. It has the ability to shape itself into anything that he might need. Usually he uses it as a weapon, shifting it into a spear most of the time for battle.

<EDIT: Continued the character's status, had to go before I could finish when I first posted it...>

Oirect the Planewalker
Neutral Good
Wizard (31)

Age: 10,000 - 20,000 roughly
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 180 pounds
Build: Average
Skin: Flesh coloured
Eye Color: The eyes of Oirect shine with a muddled rainbow, not unlike the inside of an oyster shell.
Hair Colour: A long spectrum of light, pastel colours with the ends of each strand ending in a shining gray.
Clothing/Accessories: Heavily worn out armour pre-dating any known make, donned with a variety of blades broken off long ago, and battle scratches which litter the exterior of the metal work. Oiled with a rainbow tint, covering with leather dyed in bright colours of purple, blue, and turquoise. He carries with him the Staff of Eronia, a blue hazed glowing rod with the construction aided by the gnomes of Dothion, in the Twin Paradises of Bytopia.
Special Effects: Oirect has spent enough time the Astral and Ethereal Planes to sense Portals, their destination, and attributes concerning if they are either one or two ways. Immune to the enchanting effect of the Plane of Elysium.

Oirect is a bit of an enigma. Assuming he had taken a few styx-washes, not much can be said about his past. Old folk lore from a local jaunt of bub with a blood would hint that he has been through a lot. It is rumoured that Oirect had transverd the Abyss in most of it's entirety. From Tanar'ri Lord Graz'zt's layers of Azzagrat, to the festering living entity of Azgoroth, to the Brine Flats of the Gaping Maw, to even the Gallery of Agony and Fantasia. Although most would not believe in such ramblings, Oirect has more knowledge of the existance of the Planes than a floating Mimir would acknowledge.

Normally, however, he resides in the fertile lands of Elysium, helping the townsfolk, petitioners and Guardinals of the City of the Star within Amoria, and doing various deeds for the Morninglord Lathander when the need arises to travel to the Prime Material. If there is one thing that unnerves Oirect, it would be the cluelessness of the Prime'rs whom stumble into the Outer Planes.

He travels with his friend, Aachen, a small pseudodragon (Chaotic Neutral) whom he found near Demogorgons Abysm. The two have a love-hate relationship that is slightly uncharacteristic for a learned wizard. However, both of them have experienced a great deal and live to see another day.

Kaelyn

Male Arborean Firre Eladrin/Bard 3/CG

Yesterday he was a coure: tasting the honey of arborean flowers, flying the Olympian skies on wings of song, sharing essence with his fellows, and dreaming of pranks to pull on visiting mephits. Today he blossomed in a great conflageration into a firre.

Must there always be naggling whys and wherefores? It happened; it was time; if it was not yet time, Kaelyn made it so. Kaelyn could care less about fate or destiny or anything else of the tribe of heavy nonsense, as he puts it when he's feeling polite.

If you must have an explanation, it was this: Kaelyn saw the stars of Arborea skimming along the edge of Helios' sun, taunting the god by merging with his chariot and suddenly shooting out again, trailing sparks as they flew. Kaelyn eyed the god's red, angry face and thought: I want to do that! He threw himself into a pyre, intending to make of himself a star. Absorbing the essence of the flame, he became a firre instead.

This is not the real story, as Kaelyn will cheerfully admit. He has several others on hand: stories of seducing a solar, petitioning the powers of Muspelheim, or dancing with a balor until it shrunk away to nothing.

Which story he chooses to tell is purely a matter of whim. Each one is important to him, and he is continually coming up with more. What is more important, at least today, is this: yesterday he was a coure, but today he is firre.

Kaelyn belongs to the tribe of Aia, who work raptures with mouth and breath. He must sing to use his spell-like abilities. The voices of his tribe wove him from starlight decades ago, and if before that he was something other than a coure, he does not remember.

Kaelyn has long red-gold hair that flows back from his head like fire. His nose and ears are too large and red for him to be considered attractive by human or elven standards. He alternates between a stern glower and a huge grin; he doesn't seem to have an intermediate facial expression.

Phadus

Race: Shaz
Gender: Male-like androgynous being
Class: Sorcerer 1
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: Indefinite, corporeal less than a year.
Height: 6' 1"
Weight: about 110 lbs
Appearance: Blue-green glass-like humanoid shell, surrounding a core of bright green energy. Traces of gold appear as pieces of armor plate across his chest, shoulders and arms, and vestigial wings spike several feet from his back. His legs are swarthed in shimmering robe-like folds, but are also of the translucent material of his body.
Clothing: None, beyond his shell, and four belts, festooned with pockets.
Accessories: Lots of pockets, full of odds and ends. Food, water, bits of string, pretty rocks, material components for spells, coins, costume jewelry.

Personal:
Phadus is a Shaz from the Magical Energy Plane. Before leaving at the behest of a Prime explorer, Phadus was a dynamic sorcerer of decent power, as most Shaz are. Upon being disgorged into Radiance, however, he found his powers greatly diminished and handicapped. He has managed to recover his abilities, and strives to reach the plateau he had before, but things are much harder now that he must remember to sleep, and breathe, and eat. He is managing, and is cheerfully expecting to rediscover how to planeshift home "any minute now."

Phadus has been in the known planes for less than a year, and thus far is in awe of his surroundings. He is obsessed with the concept of "objects", things that you must keep with you to have access to. Hence, he has become like a magpie or packrat, gathering up anything he sees that isn't nailed down or specifically claimed by someone else. He loves the idea of pockets, and wants all of them he can get, and things to fill them with. Thusfar he has four belts, full of items of varying usefulness and value. He will often offer things to others, giving away treasure because he feels it sad that others don't have the things they want. "Need" is still something he's working on. Some people who meet him think the first person he met outside Magic was a kender. (They'd be wrong. The kender was the second one he met.)

Woe betide the world should he ever discover the "backpack".

(For those having alot of trouble wrapping their minds around my description of Phadus, my Shaz, here's a Solonavi, who I entirely ripped off when making up the race. Remove the staff, horned helm, and the leather hakama(skirt-thing), and replace with about five oversized belts covered in bulging pouches and a child-like innocence, and you're good to go.)

Name: Oren Silverbeard
Age: 100 years
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Class: Cleric of Vidar
Level: 1st
Height: 4' 1"
Weight: 162 lbs.
Build: Muscular, stocky.
Skin: Tan, with prematurely grey beard and hair.
Eye Color: Blue
Clothing: Plain leather armor, with a small steel shield. One sturdy boot on his left foot, and on his right, an oversized metal boot. It looks awkward, but if he kicked you in the shin, it would probably hurt.
Accessories: A hand ax is at his side, a backpack with supplies is on his back.
Special Effects:

Appearence: Short, stocky, dour at first glance, Oren seems to be the standard dwarf in apperence. However for the more perceptive, the wrinkles on his face seem to indicate more smiling than frowning, and his eyes tend to glint with mischive not grumpiness. He walks with a slight limp, this apperently do to the large metal boot on his right foot. If this is a prosthetic limb, or just an unusual example of foot-ware is hard to say. Friendly enough, although a "tad" bit on the quite side, he is easy to get along with. He likes to watch what is going on around him, and is usualy seen with a slight smile on his face when he thinks no one is watching him.

Personal: Oren is a planar dwarf, who has chosen to worship Vidar of the Norse pantheon, instead of one of the "standard" dwarven gods. Persons with religious knoledge will recognize Vidar's symbol on a medalion around Oren's neck. And if you are even more knoledgable about religion, you know Vidar to be Oden's son, who is known for strength, silence, revenge, and trickery.

Age : 27
Gender : Male
Race : Bariaur
Class : Rogue1/Fighter6
Faction: Indep
Height : 6' 9"
Weight : 260
Build : Reedy lithe build
Skin (hair, feather, scale, or skin) : Dusky skin, brown fur with a dapple pattern on the flanks.
Eye Color(s) : light green
Clothing : Usually he wears a leather vest and cotton shirt, with a set of packs secured over his back. He usually wears this odd looking hat with a wide brim as well, useful to keep the rain out of his eyes. Occasionally he wears a breastplate if expecting trouble. Surefoot prefers to dress in greens and browns, and almost always has a small magical quill and a pad of paper with him.
Accessories : A set of zypher's horseshoes are nailed to the bottom of his own hooves. It helps him avoid the worst of the refuse in the Hive and Lower Ward.
Special Effects : Other than a certain amiable charm - none.
History : Surefoot came to Sigil from the Outlands, seeking fame, fortune, or at least a good time. So far he's only found one of those, unless writing for one of the many local rags of Sigil counts. A reporter with a habit of snooping into places he really shouldn't be looking - Surefoot has many a friend in many a place.
Personality : Cheerful, if sometimes abrasively questioning, Surefoot is one of the few reporters in the city that can be very hard to buy off. Believing fully in the concept of a free press (and free other things for that matter), the hotter a story gets - the more likely he is to follow after it.

perpetuum mobile
male moon-elf monk 6 /wizard 6

str: 10
dex: 14
con: 9
int: 23
wis: 16
cha: 14

skin: grayish blue
eyes: reflective bright blue.
hair: coal black.
race: moon-elf (elf variant, see appendix A)
age: 30 something (very young for an elf)
height: 1.7m (including ears)
weight: 65kg
al: lawful good.

appearance:

medium sized humanoid, wearing simple black robe and leather sandals, and a
calm smile.
his skin colour is grayish blue, somewhat remaining the hue of an ogre-mage.
the facial features are thin, narrow, elongated, and elvish, while the lower
jaw is untypically squared and heavy.
the head features doubly long ears, tiny, almost hidden horns on top of it, and
coal black ponytailed hair;
bright blue eyes are reflecting his serene smile, as well as nearby light
sources, being reflective as cat's.
all those combined makes it noticeable that while the being is elvish in
nature, it is not a drow or tiefling (although can be mistaken for a drow
tiefling, with some rakshasa and bunny heritage)

the robe he wear is black and simple, made from mundane, rough material, with
two features to set it apart: one is the long hood attached to it's rear,
designed to cover all facial features when put on, and the other is a pair of
skulls strapped to the shoulders as shoulder pads: the right one seems to be a
regular hollowed human skull, its frozen smile facing aside, and it's lower jaw
intact; the left shoulder pad/skull appears to be of a minor humanoid demon or
devil, missing it's lower jaw, and its twisted horns, tall enough to reach the
midsection of it's wearer's head, are each adorned with a single long red
ribbon, about a half a meter long. on that skull sits a small fairy, wearing a
matching black robe and a rat's skull along her right shoulder, reaching all
the way to her neck.

a diagonal tipped longsword on the left hip, a longbow on the back, amateurish
bones and beads bracelet on left hand, and a small, flat, almost hidden pouch on
the right complete his appearance.

character:

although he is extremely young by elvish standard, he was raised and trained by
humans, therefore he has many of their traits, including the relentless
ambition and sense of hurry; although the realization that he have vastly
longer lifespan, and his monastic training, allowed him some patience.
he is still very impatient and hurried in elvish standards.

his manner is calm and friendly, wearing a constant, unassuming smile of inner
peace merged with a curious, somewhat wideeyed bent, looking like he is
always happily surprised.
The rules he obeys are his own strict rules, and good is what he decides as
being good (have high morals, but doesn't see good as some absolute thing -
orcs aren't necessarily evil, and cannibals may have some deep mystical
reasons for eating their parents - like preserving their eternal souls. therefore
he never assume, but wait for explanations first. if the observant is
determined to be truly evil, not merely unconventional, than he act - with
minimal risk to self, and with as much help he can get).
he is usually honest, direct in speech, and somewhat bullheaded, also tends to
give long, educated speeches, diverting from the main subject and expanding
upon it, sometimes without returning to the main subject.
usually prefers diplomacy and subtlety to direct physical action, but when
forced into combat, will use whatever advantage he can have, including poison,
magic, MER potions, and if no allies will get harmed, running like hell.

(excerpt from typical conversation between janatan rightblade (paladin/sorcerer)
and perpetuum mobile, after a cabal of ogres kidnapped a certain princess:
"hold to your honour! the ogres got the princess! stop idling!" "my life is my
honour, jan" "than lets storm in, fireball the crap out of ogres, and rescue
her!" "err...jan, i'd rather keep my honour intact; lets wait till nightfall,
put on some invisibility, sneak in, poison the guards, find the princess, and
teleport away ASAP - than demand amensty for the peasants in return for her"
"that's bloody blackmail perp" "it is")

have a very positively "civilian" attitude, therefore have a preference toward
building and creation magic ('buffing') or other kinds of multipurpose magic,
rather than direct attack spells, although the merits of a good ol' fireball
doesn't escape him (so when presented with opportunity to learn, for example,
wall of stone and some combat spell from the same sphere, he'll learn the wall
of stone first, and the combat spell second)

he is slightly nostalgic, and tends to collect objects given to him by friends,
altough many of them have no immediate purpose, and most of them are junk. when
creating magic items, he'd prefer to use this memorabilia, rather than any other
available material.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
history (short version):

perpetuum hails from some minor prime, where his parents, on their way to some
great terrible war against strange tall creatures which threatened their own
prime with genocide, left their months old offspring at the guard of a local
monastic order; happy to have another apprentice, and happier with the tomes of
knowledge supplied by the pair as payment, the monks of the monastery raised the
child alongside other orphans, teaching them their way (zen-Buddhism of some
kind, with a lot of grasshopers and other vermin).
the young perpetuum excelled in the theoretical aspects of his studies, rising
in skill and power rapidly, reaching a level of minor instructor very quickly,
at the young age of only 24. having the favor of his masters, the young monk
asked for a year outside the monastery, to learn of the world beyond the nearest
towns and cities.
granted his wish, the young monk set to travel, and after many exploits, meeting
and exchanging ideas with fellow travelers, fell fascinated with the reality
altering power of magic.
although late to start, his stubborn determination and and great grasp of
theoretical matters led him to excel at this new career, although understanding
came fast, power was harnessed rather slowly; therefore, after having finished
with the theoretical studies, his teachers couldn't but tell him to keep
practice until the promise he showed could be reached and manifested, as well
as keep experimenting and polishing his theoretical skills, as the new spells
and item schemes and ideas he kept coming with were well founded theoretically,
even if he had problems manifesting them.

famous exploits:
spending a year among a small tribe of orcs, converting them to druidic and
monastic ways ("the strong is the one who holds his self - the iron hand shall
hold the will" - kill the leader, show strength, preach, yada yada)

spending a year among an immigrant tribe of tinker gnomes, burning his hair to
the roots several times and learning great deal of mechanical "magic"
("a screwdriver in the hand of a gnome is like an ax in the hand of an
homicidal maniac - yet a gnome is harder to clean")

after making some money selling his special purpose minor-enlargement potions,
he set off to the planes, to learn and grow, and find some new markets.

note:
perpetuum mobile isn't a proper name. he was too young to be given one by his
parents when left in the monastery, so they named him after his continuous
activity, that with his needlessness of sleep and high curiosity led them to
believe that he probably never stops doing something.

--<plot hook>
when asking the first berk of the cage whether he'd like some enlargement
potions, he was told to pike of to the hive.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
items:
the right shoulder skull is actually made of metal, painted to look like
a skull; the metal is hinged, so he wouldn't pierce himself with the horns.
it has no magical properties, but signifies his status at the monastic order:
the skull represents him being one of the staff, while the ribbons ties to
the top of the horns signify his status and rank as a lecturer.

the left shoulder-skull is a human skull, hollowed out, and smoothened,
so it can actually can be worn as a mask, using hand carved grooves that fits
to the tiny horns on top of perpetuum's head. it is nonmagical.

sword:
mass manufactured, the sword actually have a serial number. it is non
magical (and not a masterwork item). the sword is diagonally tipped, with small,
round, flat handguard, and slightly elongated hand grip, allowing it to be wield
two handedly; as it was left with him by his parents, perpetuum regrads this
sword highly, for the memory of his parents rather than effectiveness.
(having a sharp sword usually means you're LESS likely to get attacked, so it is
quite effective in perp's mind)

bow:
simple, monastery issue longbow, with 50 bamboo arrows.

perpetuum's bracelet:
self-made low level magical item. allows casting of mage's hand and
predistignition at will. the base item (before enchantment) was of orcish
manufacture.

the interior of the robe's wide cloth belt is studded with shurikens, ready to
be drawn, yet unseen from outside, as well as holding various spell components.

the small pouch is actually a small bag of holding, storing:
pair of thompas +2, spellbook, 10 potions of minor enlargement, various metal
vials of poisons(most paralyzing, some lethal) a hand crossbow and 100 bolts,
rations, dice, bedroll, spare sandals, bandages, rope, caltrops, chess board,
delicate tools used to create machinery, some boxes of mechanical bits and
pieces, a hammer (to fix stuff) collapsing ladder, a crowbar (adventurer
standard issue),spikes, lenses, some wands, some healing potions (metal
containers). many writing tools and notebooks filled with sketches. spare
clothes, toothpicks, toothbrush, soap, comb, small metal mirror, razor blade
(scalpel), box of shurikens, scissors, knife, eating sticks, soy sauce,
ketchup. small hollow metal ball with eternal light cast in it and a long
string attached to a loop on its outside. a towel. gnomish nightshades (like
sunglasses, only darker, and ugly). many badly made wooden toys. metal drinking
glass. lots of really soft toilet paper. green tea. bucket. napkins, stuffed
cat doll. extra arrows. feathers. lots of what seems to be lots of doll clothing
(actually his familiar's).

several tomes:
books of gnomish mechanical engineering, monastic training manuals,
theory of magic -vol I/II/II/III/IV/V/VI/VII/hmm.. the whole library of it
--most of the bag holds a small library of theoretical books, and a small,
signed, book of very bad poetry given to him by a fellow traveling bard.
(note: the "theory of magic" books aren't spellbooks, but rather theoretical
research. most of the magic described there has no immediate (or any) functional
purposes, and is meant for case study and the like)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
skills/feats:
monk weapons, wizard weapons, moon-elf traits, brew potion, craft wondrous
items, many skill points in spellcraft, math, mechanical engineering,
diplomacy, tumble, craft(mechanical)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
special spells:

note:
those spells should be low level spells,
some of them even 0 level. please tell me what falls
under the prestidigitation label.

>perpetuum's minor enlargement/reducement (MER):

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

enlarges a single external body part of the recipient, like a hand, ear, nose
or foot, upon the casters discretion. originally made to help a friend which
complained he had too big a nose, the commercial applications couldn't escape
perpetuum, as the military application of MER covered weapons where many: if
you hit your opponents hand with a MER covered blade, it will enlarge/reduce,
so he won't be able to hold a weapon, hit his foot and it will explode his
boot, etc.
strangely enough, many of his buyers seemed to be to elderly or too unfit
to be warring, and setting up a booth in a large city markey earned
him a name of canned meat vendor.
("100% really works! guaranteed! enlargement potion!")

>perpetuum's precise sketching:

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

allows the user to draw precise and detailed pictures. the pictures are
not of great artistic value, as they contain no emotion, but are great
for accurate anatomical drawing and mechanical schematics.

>perpetuum's calculate/verify

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

gives the spell user an ability to quickly calculate algebraic/other formulas;
note: does only the dirty part of the mathematical work, and only stuff
that is done using well defined algorithms like differentiation, non complex
integration, etc. the harder part of mathematical work (like making theorems
etc) still must be made by the caster - think of magic based MATLAB ...
the spell isn't capable of creative thinking. for that there's fox's cunning.
(the spell should add some bonuses to skill - eng. checks, as it cuts some
of the design time)

>perpetuum's nimble fingers:

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

increases the motoric skills and sensory input of the hands, reducing
vibrations to null, allowing incredibly accurate manipulation (should provide
some skill bonuses to lockpicking, building delicate stuff, etc)
possible penalty: the fingers are become extremely sensitive to touch, making
some penalties in combat.

>perpetuum's magnify:

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

allows the caster to zoom in on objects in his vicinity, greatly magnifying
them grants some skill bonuses while performing the task, but at a penalty of
reduces combat abilities/dazed condition otherwise, as the proportions of the
world distorts. (can be used as a daze effect??)
also allows for some spying, like reading the fine print of a devil's contract
from another table.

>perpetuum's scent:

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

grants the user/target a specific scent. may be used as decoy
("i now smell like an apple tree, begone evil baron's dogs!")
or as a trap ("now you smell like the evil spellslinger which escaped prison -
hear the evil barons' mad dog howling!")
("now this stone smells like you. let;s throw it over the evil baron's mad dogs
heads, into the eternal chasm, and see what happens")

>perpetuum's inertial sling

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

increases the speed of a slingshot pebble to super-sonic speed over a fraction
of time. the stone superheats from the air friction, then pierces the target.
does NOT require a sling.

>perpetuum's cat's claws:

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

allows the user/target to sprout cat like retraceable fingernails, which
are keen, cause small amount of damage alone (1d3? 1d4?), and provide
some climbing bonus. the trick here is that they last a long time,
so that can be used to cut ropes etc.

>perpetuum's cat's/pig/dog/rat's tail

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

provides some stability bonus, annoying as hell when cast on opponents,
make pants uncomfortable.

>perpetuum's measure

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

provides the exact measurements of an object, in MKS units.

>perpetuum's contact tie

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

ties a rope, from distance. can be used with a contingency, so a throwed
rope will tie itself when hitting a proper hold.

>perpetuum's protect writing

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

make a drawing/writing protected from change; i.e. pencil drawing
will be unsmeareable, and easily cleaned if soiled, also will be
protected from change by other entity sans the caster. the spell
can be reversed so the author can continue to write or alter the image.

>perpetuum's minor eternal silence

level=?/duration/etc not determined.

permanently silence a small area. originaly developed to help the tinker
gnomes silence some noisy machinery. (works only on nonliving matter, affect a
very small area, but is permanent until dispelled)

---------------------------------------------------------------
familiar/cohort:

akeo ("pink happy daisy")
female fairy /rouge 5
height: 20cm
weight: 6kg

small fairy dressed in black, with rats' skull shoulder pad, wielding a pair of
fey sized kamas. (scalpels?), flying around perps' head, diving in and out
the pouch on his side, and sitting on his shoulder, either whispering to his
ears, or playing with them.
curious, nosy, and sometimes annoying, aeko is constantly teasing perp,
nicking him "horny bunny" or that he isn't a happy bunny.
also have a severe cloth fetish, which is fortunately cheap enough, as she
by her clothes in toy shops (what seems to be an endlessly source of trouble).

("hello shop owner, where do you keep you dolls clothes?" "sir, those are
children toys" "i know, but i need to dress my fairy" "yes... will you please
leave the store, and avoid touching children on your way out?")

(if you've read terry pratchett, than you'll know whats the image i'm aiming
for.. i've overloaded this character with references and internal jokes. eh.)

fills slots of both familiar and cohort. (?)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
appendix:

new race: moon-elf

when the first of the elven race started to spread among the planes and primes,
some of the early colonists inhabited a prime world with a inordinary
constellatory arrangement, making this world eternally shrouded in moonlight.
the newly arrived coloninsts gradually adapted, their infrared vision eroding
to mere low light vision, their eyes growing reflective, like cat's, (the
pupils stayed round though) while the ears become elongated, to hear better the
sound of the night, while their skin and hair darkened to fit the colour of
moonlit night.
the elves thrived in the eternal dusk, making druidic grooves and hedges,
building serene monastries and powerful mage schools. with no other dominant
intelligent life form to threaten their rule of their moonlit paradise, their
reflexes dulled, and their minds, focused on research and internal seeking,
expanded. where the horns came from? no one knows. probably would never know,
as the planet was wiped out of existence by a silent invasion, with only
handful of survivors reaching the planes and other primes, running with their
lifes and scraps of their legacy (strangely enough, they were'nt exterminated by
internal infight, as might have been excepted).

racial traits: con -2, int +2. low-light vision, keen senses, sleepless (like
regular elves), elves immunities, proficient with longbow and longsword. some
bonus for hearing (more than usual elves). some skill affinity bonus.
no extra feats. favorite class: wizard/ druid.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
note:
as for perp's race: think warcraft nightelves, with tiny horns! to avoid IP
conflicts, and add to the karma.

note:
should be compatible w/ elves, the major change is mental bonus instead
of physical one, better hearing than usual elves, worse night-sight,
and no racial bonus adjustment. and tiny horns.

note:
the character is actually an RP interpretation of my NWN 'hordes of the
underdark' character,(a monk6 /wizard 34), with various RP additions,
hugh reduction of magical items, some backstory, less fighting, and extra
special additions.
i don't own the rulebooks, therefore i don't know how to convert this
character to proper PnP character. but i like the idea, and how it came
out. any suggestions will be greatly appreciated.(last time i've actually
read PnP rules was in the hey-days of 2nd edition, about 12 years ago).
(originaly meant to participate in gnoll-druid adventure thread.
if possible, i'd like to add some more wizard levels (unless it will unbalance
the game) i think that the character in its current form isn't "uber",
as it has low fighting skill and low magical prowess, but is fun to play)

note:
current int: 20 base +3 bonus from level adjustments (anyway, all bonus
stat points went directly to int).

note:
any suggestions/ comments will be welcome.

note:
if anyone thinks he can provide an illustration, it'd be very kind!