Category Archives: Jade Regent

The Jade Regent adventure path.

Character: Kali

From the Life of Kali Nassim: Nualia

Spring, 4701

Kali scampered down Main Street, taking care to avoid running into a pair of guards leaving the garrison as she slipped between it and the town hall. She didn’t want to miss too much of the sunset over the water, but colliding with someone on the busy streets would guarantee that she’d not get to see anything at all. She rounded the corner with equal care, a right turn that took her to the cliffs overlooking the gulf. She could see the enormous glassworks a couple of buildings down on her left as she trotted out to the edge.

The sun was just above the horizon, still bright but turning a fiery orange as it sank slowly to the water. She sat down on a comfortable grassy spot just a few feet from the edge that had become her favorite viewpoint, so caught up in her routine that she did not realize at first that she was not alone.

She recognized Nualia, of course; Kali knew who Nualia was within days of moving to Sandpoint. Everyone knew Nualia. At barely eleven years old she’d been fortunate to see more of the world than most people would in their entire lives. She’d seen humans from nearly every continent and humanoids of all types, but Nualia with her silver hair and purple eyes stood out among all of them. Not that she hadn’t come across others with a distinct or unique appearance, but those were all cross-breeds of some sort. Nualia looked both human and otherworldly at the same time.

What did mom say she was? Aas-something?

“It’s not polite to stare.”

Kali turned her head away quickly, feeling embarrassed. She could tell her cheeks were flushing as she said, meekly, “I’m sorry.”

Nualia was laying on her side in the grass just off to her right, one hand resting on her abdomen. Quite a few people in Sandpoint came out this way to watch the sunset every now and then, but this was the first time Kali had run into her here. For some reason it made her uncomfortable.

Nualia turned to face her.

“You’re Kali.”

It wasn’t a question, but Kali answered as if it was.

“Yes, miss.”

For just a fleeting moment Nualia looked annoyed and Kali was embarrassed again.

Dummy! Just talk to her like she’s normal.

People did weird things around Nualia. Not so much the ones living in Sandpoint, but those in the farmlands out to the east. They would ask to stroke her hair, or to have a lock of it, and to touch her face or hand. Some even asked her to kiss their children. Once while she was out with her parents Kali saw someone kneel at Nualia’s feet in supplication, and beg or pray for something. She wasn’t sure what because she couldn’t hear the words, but her mom was very annoyed and remarked harshly about the farmers being superstitious. Her dad was more reserved, but she could tell he found it terribly rude and he was shaking his head as they walked away.

“Other kids pick on you.”

Also not a question. This time Kali didn’t say anything. Yes, some of them did; she was getting used to it, and was learning who to avoid and who to ignore. That didn’t mean that she wanted it pointed out to her. Uncomfortable under Nualia’s gaze, Kali looked down. Her eyes found a path of dirt on the ground.

Nualia turned away, staring out over the gulf where the sun was dipping into the water, slowly turning from orange to a deep red.

After a couple of minutes she said, matter-of-factly, “It gets worse.”

The sun set in awkward silence.

§

Character: Etayne

Etayne Andosana, 29-year-old half-elf Witch

Etayne is the product of human Emotions and Appetites uncontrolled. Her father is an unknown human who happened upon an elf woman in the woods. He forced himself upon her and brought about Etayne. This Woman was already a mother to a daughter by the name of Shelalu. Etayne’s parents were prepared to get rid of this abomination, but Shelalu was excited to have a sister. They decided that they would keep the child, but cared little for her. It was Shelalu who practically raised Etayne in her young years.

To the rest of the town, Etayne was considered a vile creature. She would be belittled and beaten by others. if it wasn’t for Shelalu, Etayne would never have survived. With all the ill treatment, Etayne felt ugly and worthless. She hated herself and life.

When Shelalu left she wanted to take Etayne with, but Etayne refused to leave, never telling her sister it was because she feared she would only be a burden. Soon after Shelalu left a storm came through that Etayne would never forget. Etayne loved storms. They were one of the few things that actually brought her joy. She loved to dance in the rain and watch the lightning with excitement and wonder. There was something beautiful in the chaos it brought. Something magical. They made her feel free. As she was playing in this particular storm a most unusual thing occurred. A  fox was also out in the rain, and not taking cover from the storm. The fox seem to beckon for her. With curiosity she followed. They arrived at an oddly shaped stone and she heard a voice. It spoke of how pleased it was to find one who loved the wild of the storm and elements as much as she did. The conversed for a while. The voice promised to provide Etayne a way to enjoy the elements more, to have the power of them in some form. It could help her to learn to deal with her “Problems”. Etayne almost refused, but then thought of her sister and being able to help her. She made a pact with this being that night not sure of what she was agreeing to.

Shelalu would come back for intervals telling Etayne tales of adventure. Several times she talked of a young girl she saved from slavery, named Qatana. She treated her like a sister and desired Etayne to come back with her to Sandpoint and meet her thinking they would be great friends. Etayne still not feeling adequate, continued to turn her down. Though Etayne felt a small level of jealousy for this “Sister”, she loved these moments spent with Shelalu, and secret desired to meet Qatana. In the times between however she spent all her time with Ling, the fox. She learned a lot about magic and loved practicing, learning to be strong enough to go with her sister. She also spent a lot of time outside the village studying the plants and minerals with Ling. People already fearing and despising her for her lineage, feared her more as she secluded herself to the forest.

The studying of the plants became very useful when a sickness fell upon the land. Etayne became quite ill. Knowing that no one in the village would care to help her, she began to experiment with what she had learned. After several failed concoctions were contrived she found a cure. She thought of the others in the village who were suffering from this illness and it pleased her. She had a remedy. Other will likely find the cure as well but she had it now. They did not deserve her cure. This “Power” she possessed. Then she thought of her sister and the kindness Shelalu showed to Etayne. She then thought of the young who were not cruel to her and decided that she could at least try to help them as that is what her sister would at least do. Though many turned it down she offered her elixir to though families. Though who accepted found an end to their suffering sooner than those who waited for a cure from reputable healers, which did come about. Since then she would have secret visitors who sot her herbal knowledge.

With these visitors Etayne grew in confidence. She finally decided she was ready to join her sister outside of Sandpoint. When she got to Sandpoint, Shelalu was happy to see her. She set up camp with Shelalu and expected to meet Qatana. It seemed, however, that Qatana had recently left for the Priest’s Call.

Etayne found it hard to go into Sandpoint at first, with so many human men there. Etayne blamed human men for her rough life and desired to make them pay. The only thing that holds her back is her desire to please her sister. This, however, does not stop her from causing a little misfortune, to them in passing. A little bad luck or putrid food and drink never killed anyone…and makes for a good laugh.

In Etayne’s visits to Sandpoint in the few years she spends there she realizes that these people are more excepting of her than her home village and understood why her sister wanted her to come so much. She enjoys going to the Inn and quietly sitting in a corner to listen of tales from travelers. As she continues to visit Sandpoint she becomes more and more excepting of these people, Though, still nervous and skeptical of Old Men.

Etayne Andosana- Half Elf Witch Age 29

Character: Qatana

Prelude: Qatana’s journal entry

Moonday, Gozran 16, 4712 Sunrise
Seerspring Garden

Spring is my favorite time to be in Magnimar.

The cold darkness of winter with its barren trees and washed out hues has given way to the pale green of awakening plants and the riot of blooming flowers. People reflect their surroundings, and heavy dark clothing has been shed to reveal the bright colors beneath. The chill in people’s hearts has also thawed, and kindness is now the rule rather than the exception.

The sun is just peeping above the horizon, highlighting the dew laden leaves with fire, and the webs strung between twigs glow with anticipation of the day’s warmth.

This is my favorite place in all the city, sitting with my back against a mossy stone wall as I gaze east over the tranquil garden and the still sleeping metropolis.

Nearby, the spire of the Church of Pharasma juts above the tree line, clad in brown, gray and blue shingles of slate. Had fate proved different I would be there still.

The soft voices of my friends remind me that I have some place else to be this morning, and that I had best be on my way. I stand and pick up my pack, heft the flail that lay at my feet, and head to the northern gate.

The time has come to leave Magnimar, and I shall miss it.

Moonday, Gozran 16, 4712 Sunset
Lost Coast Road

We are moving slow, but I suppose that is to be expected. On horse back you can make Sandpoint in a day from Magnimar, but it is 50 miles of hard riding. Most folks take two days for the trip (or longer if on foot) to spare the horses and their lower back-sides.

Originally I thought to hire a horse and make the trek in a day, but then Takoda suggested going up as part of a group. “Find a caravan in need of a guard. The extra coin won’t hurt, and you said you were after change, and you have been alone for so long this change will do you good.”

I wasn’t so sure how much good the addition of people would be, but he had a point: I was looking for a change. What was I going to do with my life? The world was a big place, and the maps I had seen in Magnimar showed nearly limitless possibilities. Kali told childhood tales of exotic and far away places she had already visited, and I found the idea of extensive travel appealing.

But for starters I wanted to return home to Sandpoint for perhaps one final farewell.

Apparently there was a glut of guards (or people posing as such) looking for caravan duty, and it was doubtful at first if I’d even be hired. I suppose I should have cleaned up some before the interview to make an impression. But what do you want in a guard, the smell of soap and bathwater, or someone who can fend off attackers? And so what if it had been a week or so since I last washed my clothes — and Timber, there is no need to snort “or so” as if to imply it was any longer… or much longer, anyway.

Fortunately Badger reminded me to tell the caravan owner I was a cleric (I do not look much like one), and so he’d be hiring both a guard and a healer for the price of one. That did the trick, and I was signed on. Clever Badger!

I rode in one of the wagons, which was comfortable enough. I told the leader that I could ride a horse, but he took one look at my two handed flail and said, “That’s no weapon for a rider!”

Well, duh! It’s not like I planned to fight from horse back — the poor dispirited animals they brought along wouldn’t be much good in combat anyway. But I held my tongue (thanks for the reminder, Huffy), and silently climbed aboard.

Fortunately the driver was neither inquisitive nor talkative, which gave me ample opportunity to think about the future, and to rest (I have the late night watch).

Toilday, Gozran 17, 4712 Sunset
Sandpoint

Last night was mostly uneventful. Some time after midnight the horses became uneasy, and there was a loud screech in the distance. I thought I saw a winged horse silhouetted by the moon, which brought to mind the old tale about the Sandpoint Devil, but nothing more happened.

Camp was broken and we headed out at a steady walk north.

The road headed west, and climbed over the rolling hills and down into various river valleys, and then slogged back up again. Clouds rolled in at mid day and graced us with a stady downfall for half an hour, after which they broke apart and went along their way, leaving us to our own.

By afternoon we were crossing over the Foxglove River and into the lands of my youth. A battered and weathered sign on the far side of the bridge announced “The Misgivings”, with an arrow pointing off to the left. Tacked below this on tattered parchment was a warning in faded ink:

WARNING

The house has been looted, but the evil remains

– Olithar –

Shalelu had mentioned something about this place some time ago — some story her bard friend, Sedjewick, liked to tell (or sing, more likely).

As we continued northward my heart began to rise. It had been some while since I had last been to Sandpoint, and each bend in the road revealed a familiar vista that triggered memories from my youth.

And as the sun began to set we crested a hill and found the quaint harbor town of Sandpoint quite the same as I had last seen it. Or so it at first appeared, but as we approached I could see new construction mixed with the old, and the remains of charred pilings poking up from the water in the warehouse quarter.

“It’s just as I remember it,” quipped Pookie. Yes. Well, Pookie claims she stowed away on caravan in her younger days and has seen most of Varisia, but I only half believe her.

We brought the wagons through the south gate and over to the market houses, where the goods were unloaded and I collected my pay.

I’ll ask around to see if Shalelu is about, or if worse comes to worse I can ask at the Rusty Dragon… but Ameiko has put conditions on my visits to her establishment.

Character: Kali

From the Life of Kali Nassim: In Jalmeray

jalmerayWhen her parents announced that they would travel to Niswan just a few weeks ahead of her 11th birthday, Kali could hardly contain her excitement. It had been over five years since she had last seen her grandparents or the city where her father was born, and she could recall very little of her time in Jalmarey with any clarity. Some of that was simply the nature of a young child’s memory, but in the years since then the Nassim family had also been to the foreign ports of Kalsgard, Azir and Merab, numerous smaller settlements in Cheliax, and even briefly—very briefly—to the docks of Promise in Hermea (speculating about why Mengakare wanted those items would be a family pastime for many years). After the move to Sandpoint and the settling in at her new and now permanent home, those memories of what she saw as a young girl of six in Niswan were competing with others more recent and far more vivid.

She read a great deal about her father’s homeland in preparation for the journey and the more she read the more obsessed she seemed to become. At first, Akmal was concerned that the Kingdom would not live up to her expectations, but Denea quickly pointed out how unlikely that was: Niswan was a city that was formed, and still shaped by, the elementals and genies weaving magic in service to the Vudrani rajahs. Jalmeray was the west-most Impossible Kingdom and in this case it’s name was no exaggeration: the Kingdom itself would not and could not exist if not for the outsiders that were instrumental in its creation. One evening, Kali had asked if it was true that there were palaces “where the fountains flowed with wine instead of water”. Her father replied, nodding, “I have seen it”. How was it possible to be disappointed with such a place, when the reality was so much more fantastic than any story could convey?

And Denea was proved right in the end, as she often was when it came to her daughter. The almost eleven-year-old Kali was in awe of Niswan’s wonders. She walked on streets of red stone, between ornate pagodas several tiers high, silken streamers on their roof tops flowing in the wind. And the marble was everywhere: buildings, statues, fountains…some of them a pure white that gleamed int he sunlight. Niswan was a delight for the eyes, and there were many delights for the other senses as well. Now that she was old enough to appreciate it all she found the city to be nothing short of majestic.

Young as she was, though, she was also very keen and it did not take more than a few days for her to suspect that, aside from the culture, something about Niswan was very different from the other cities she had seen. It nagged at her. There were some obvious contrasts. The streets of Niswan were not just clean, but immaculate. The city itself was busy and bustling, yet also quiet and distinguished. It even seemed to have an effect on her mother: normally outspoken and rarely hesitant to offer her opinion on matters, Denea was reserved and deferential here (some might even call her behavior “polite”, though perhaps not within earshot). Yes, those things were obvious, but there was something else. Something much more subtle.

It was a couple of days before it came to her. Every city had its social and economic divides and Kali was under no illusions as to where she and her family fell on these scales. While the developed world might consider Sandpoint to be little more than a backwater settlement, her family’s life there belied its means. Children her age, or of any age for that matter, did not as a general rule travel the world, much less with her frequency. Most people did not leave their own country except to flee for their lives or as (unwilling) property of another. She knew, even at this age, the privilege under which she lived and a large part of that understanding came, surprisingly, from her mother. Denea not only didn’t shelter Kali from the harsh realities of poverty, at times she deliberately exposed her daughter to it. “Your father’s influence,” she would tell Kali many years later. “I wanted to raise you better than I was.”

What Kali saw in Niswan was a city like any other, except…there were no impoverished. There were poor, for sure, but she had yet to see what had been a common sight in every city of any size: the desperately poor, with no money and no prospects, surviving only at the generosity of others. There were no beggars, no homeless, no squatters and no squalor. When she broached the subject with her mother that evening, just as she was going to bed, Denea kissed her forehead and said, “You are an observant and clever young lady. And it is too late to talk about this tonight.”

Her father woke her very early the next morning, before dawn. “There is something I need to show you,” he said.

Two white horses were tied at the post in front of her grandparents’ home with reigns and saddles for riding, and Akmal helped her up onto the smaller one before untying them and mounting his. Once he was satisfied that Kali was ready, he said only, “Follow me,” and trotted off.

Akmal led her through the city as day broke. Whatever questions she had he was not ready to answer, and she eventually gave up on asking them and rode behind her father in silence. After nearly three quarters of an hour they had left the city proper, traveling along a small road on a grassy hillside overlooking the water. Down below, a rough path emerged from the brush and trees just above the shore, which it followed to austere wooden docks.

Akmal stopped, dismounted, and motioned for Kali to do the same. She eyed two  baqaara, ornately decorated as she had come to expect from Niswan (and in stark contrast to the docks where they were moored), sitting in the perfectly still water. Two men—a boat captain and a dockhand, Kali presumed—were preparing one of them for launch.

“Now, we sit and wait.”

In time, four hooded, cloaked figures emerged from the trees below, following the path to the docks. They approached the readied boat, greeted its captain, shed their cloaks and stepped aboard.

Kali gasped audibly.

“What happened to them?”

“This Kingdom was born from elemental magic 4,000 years ago, shaped by the will of the Maharajah Khiben-Sald. The magic of the genies still serves the rajahs today, alongside that of powerful sorcerors. This magic is responsible for the wonders around us, including the unnatural order you have seen in Niswan where even the lowest caste is provided for. But all these things…they come at a cost.”

The four figures took their seats, two choosing oar positions along with the captain.

Akmal continued, “All of this magic from hundreds of spells flows around us like the wind, and like the wind it is harmless…except on rare occasions when it is not, and causes these afflictions. This is the toll levied on a city created by, sustained by, and bathed in powerful magic from both our world and beyond.”

Kali watched in silence as the dockhand untied the baqaara’s mooring lines.

“If you are wealthy, or well connected, or simply have a large family of even modest means, you can pay to be cured. If you have none of these things…” He paused before continuing. “A lucky few are not severely stricken and may even recover in time. Most, however, are like this. They eventually become burdens on their families. When they have nowhere left to turn, they turn to the island of Gho Vella.”

The baqaara shoved off and its captain steered it away from the shore as the oars were lowered into the water.

“These men who ferry them. They do not ask for payment. No one knows why they choose to do this; if you ask them they will not say. We call them ‘The Curse Shepherds’.”

The boat picked up speed now, the captain and oarsmen rowing unsteadily at first but eventually smoothly and in concert. It was several minutes before Kali spoke.

“Why Gho Vella? What’s there?”

“I don’t know. Very few people do; I imagine that even fewer care.”

§

Character: Qatana

Qatana Marchand, 21-year-old human Cleric of Groetus

The Marchands were part of the original Varisian settlement present when Sandpoint was founded. Father, mother and son Zaqanda acted as the traders for the tribe, bringing in resources from across the different regions of Varisia. When the founding families arrived in 4665 from Magnimar and the Scarnetti family led the treacherous tack on the original settlement, the Marchands stood firm defending their people. They were one of the first of the Varisians that worked with the new arrivals, and helped to build Sandpoint’s economy.

Zaqanda Marchand took over his parent’s business when their ship was lost at sea, after which he married his long time sweet heart, Qaruni. Some years later, in 4691, Qatana was born.

A small, quiet and inward focused child, Qatana made few friends in her first ten years in Sandpoint. She delighted in exploring the coast or forests, either alone or with a special friend or two.

Her father made frequent trips to cities and town across the region, and occasionally Qaruni and Qatana would join the caravan with him. Qatana especially loved these journeys, where the wide world and all of its possibilities would unfold before her.

In 4699 on a trip to Nybor their caravan was attacked by bandits. Qatana hid beneath their wagon, peering out from between the spokes of the wheel as her father fell, pierced by arrows. Qaruni tried to rally the survivors using shields to fend off the arrows, but she was taken down by a large brute charging in on horse back.

Qatana looked on in horror as the thug jumped from his horse before her mother, having his way with her before slitting her throat.

Meanwhile the other bandits had bound the survivors, and dragged Qatana out from beneath the wagon. They were tied in a line behind the wagon, and made to walk as their captors began began to move out with their loot.

Loot. That is what Qatana was now, and she was treated little differently than the sacks of goods piled atop the wagon… other than she had to walk, while the sacks got a free ride. She was somewhat protected by her age, but the other women were cruelly used, until the thug leader ordered his brigands to stop spoiling the merchandise.

The bandits made little secret about their destination: Kaer Maga.

It took more than a month to reach the city. The bandits were in no hurry, and they shadowed the main roads along the way, waylaying travelers and other caravans, and adding to the parade of misery that trailed behind them.

When they finally arrived the carts were hauled away and the captives were marched to the slave market. Qatana knew what to expect — she had heard the bandits talking about their arrival in Kaer Maga for weeks. The road became narrower as they were led into the more squalid sections of the city. Filth was piled upon either side and most of the people they passed appeared as dirty and down trodden as the captives.

Before a heavy steel grate they paused, while a man in bright silk robes came out and looked them over, checking their hair, teeth, and anywhere else he felt like running his hands.

He flashed a toothy yellow stained smile at the bandit who brought them there, and the two fell to haggling. Coins were exchanged and the bandit left. Yellow teeth whistled and a half orc came out and marched the slaves through the archway into a narrow, stony yard beyond.

“Strip,” He demanded.

The slaves did nothing, and so he smacked the nearest woman hard against the side of her head.

“Strip!”

They disrobed and their clothes were taken away. The ropes with which they had been linked together were replaced by manacles, and men on catwalks above dumped buckets of water over them.

After that, they were placed into a small room with no windows and little space. A near-full bucket in a corner provided the only facilities, and by the next morning it was well past over flowing.

At sunrise they were led back through the narrow yard, where another dousing removed much of the slime from their overnight ordeal, and they were led out onto an elevated walkway, much like a stage in a theater, which opened upon a public square.

There Qatana and her fellow victims were joined by others from deeper recesses in the slaver quarters. They were forced to stand, naked, while potential buyers (and lookers on) gaped and jeered at them.

Qatana was purchased that morning, and after shoving a sack like shift over her head, her new owner dragged her away, hands bound by leather chords.

Her new home was an inn not far the the slave district. Her hands were unbound and she was taken out back to a courtyard with a water pump, given a large pile of laundry and a bag of soap flakes and told, “Have this lot cleaned and hung to dry before night fall.”

The inn keeper left, and Qatana looked around. The rooms for the inn were on the upper floors, and were accessible from walkways that led up from rickety stairs near the back door of the inn. Nobody was looking, and there was an archway leading out to the street.

Qatana took off, but did not get far. The inn keeper had been waiting for her around the corner, and caught her by the hair. He bashed her repeatedly against the wall before taking her back to the courtyard and dropping her before the pile of dirty laundry.

She managed to get through the laundry not too long past sunset.

She waited more than a week before her next escape attempt, and while she made it it further, her punishment was more severe. After that her wrists were always bound with the leather chords. By day she was tied to an iron ring in the courtyard wall, where she worked on various tasks, regardless of the weather, and by night she was tied to ring in the floor of the inn’s cellar.

Months passed, and Qatana was worked hard. While her food consisted mostly of left over scraps, or food the inn’s dog would often spurn, there was enough that Qatana’s physical strength increased with each passing week.

But still she could think of no way to escape, nor any place to flee to even if she could get away. The laws of Kaer Maga called for severe punishment for anyone caught aiding an escaped slave, and her owner frequently reminded her that no one would be willing to risk themselves for her.

And then, in the dark hours after waxing moon had set, Qatana heard something working the lock on the cellar door. At first she thought it was one of the drunken guests at the inn, coming down to try out the “younger flesh” the inn keeper often boasted of. Instead, a stealthy figure crept in and looked around. Moments later Shalelu crouched before her and cut her leather chords.

“Quickly now, change into these while I cut your hair,” she whispered.

Soon Qatana looked like a boy, and Shalelu took her by the hand as they walked through the city and out the western gate just as the sun was rising.

By dusk they made camp in the side of a hill with a view to distant Kaer Maga. They had hardly said a word all day, but looking back at the city Qatana asked, “How did you find me?”

“One of the caravan guards that fell was not slain. He was found and nursed back to health by gnome traders. As soon as he was able he returned to Sandpoint and brought us news of the attack, and his belief that some of you had been captured.”

“A group of us set out to find you, but months had passed, and the trail was cold. We heard rumor of a troublesome band of brigands that had harassed caravans along the great southern route, and so we gambled and followed their trail westward. At last their trail led to Kaer Magna, where we were able to locate their leader, who was still living high from his profits.”

“From him we learned that you and others had been sold, but the slavers remained silent. They have the support of the city. This was a week ago, and most of our party returned home then. A few of us remained, walking the back streets and alleyways of the city, hoping against hope to find those of you who had been taken.”

“You were not the first to be rescued, although I am afraid you will be the last. The others have set off for home going different ways, as shall we, to avoid chase and capture.”

Qatana thanked Shalelu for all she had done to save her, and asked, “To what end did you put the bandit leader?”

“Patience, little one. They are many and with friends. We are few, and quite alone. I had to pay for the information he gave. Justice…. or revenge, must wait for another season.”

They made their way slowly to Korvoso, and from there Shalelu was hired on as a guard for a large caravan heading to Magnimar. From Magnimar they quickly traveled along the Lost Coast Road to Sandpoint.

The Marchand Trading Company was still operating, and in the year since her parents’ disappearance the head clerk had taken over daily operation of the firm. He agreed to buy the Marchand warehouse, office and residence, the details of which Shalelu handled.

Qatana’s old friends found her changed. No longer shy and retiring, Qatana was now forceful and often abrupt and rude. Social norms and skills eluded her — even when she bothered to try, which she did less often over time. Qatana also found she had no tolerance for bullies or people who were cruel or caused others to suffer.

Slowly what few friends Qatana had drifted away, except for Kali Nassim, daughter of another merchant family, and fellow outsider (or freak).

Qatana spent most of her time with Shalelu and the two would patrol the wild lands around Sandpoint together. Whenever Shalelu left the area on some other business she arranged for Qatana to board with a family in town, but more often than not Qatana stayed in a small camp she and Shalelu had created just to the south of Sandpoint.

Often when Shalelu was gone Qatana found herself in the chapel, asking questions from Father Tobyn or the acolytes. She enjoyed debating such lofty ideals as the meaning of life, or what it meant to be called to serve. She felt the need to do something more than just exist and survive, which is all she had done since returning to Sandpoint.

She was heart broken when the chapel was burned to the ground in 4702 and Father Tobyn killed. But other equally disturbing events in town made conditions more difficult and dangerous for all of Sandpoint’s citizens, and Shalelu kept Qatana busy and distracted helping out as needed.

Life eventually returned to normal, and construction began on Sandpoint’s new cathedral. A new priest, Father Xanthus, assumed the duties as Sandpoint’s cleric, and with his encouragement Qatana decided to become a cleric herself.

The six deities represented by shrines at the new cathedral were each appealing in their own way, but some darker part of Qatana was pulled toward Pharasma. She left for Magnimar soon after making her decision.

Qatana enjoyed her time at the Church of Pharasma in the Keystone district of Magnimar. For one, the building was small and unimposing, which suited her fine, and for another it was just a few blocks away from the magnificent and tranquil Seerspring Garden.

But in the big city of Magnimar she saw cruelty and suffering every where she turned. In some cases she saw members of various religious groups assisting, but mostly not. Over time she noticed clerics clad in unassuming (some might say tattered) gray robes were often in assistance where suffering was most acute.

Intrigued, she approached a gray cleric, who identified himself as one of the Followers of the Gray Sign. They were clerics of Groetus who believed in the “Sign of the Destroyer” doom. They embraced the inevitable end of all things as a mercy, and in the mean time worked to relieve or end suffering when they encountered it.

Mostly they practised their beliefs alone, but in Magnimar some would gather together in an abandoned chapel to join efforts when the mood hit them, or the stars were right.

Both the compassion and the solitary nature of the religion appealed to Qatana, and something about the perplexing nature of Groetus pulled her in.

Before long she was spending more time with the Followers of the Gray Sign than the Church of Pharasma, until she eventually became an acolyte of Groetus. Much of the knowledge and skills she attained while a student of Pharasma aided her in this transition.

Qatana had been accustomed to wielding a mace (even Magnimar could be a dangerous place for the unarmed), the clerics of Groetus taught her to use a heavy flail. She enjoyed the challenge this new weapon presented, and appreciated the devastation it could wreak when skillfully handled.

She also learned of less benign followers of Groetus: those who used the promise of the end of times as an excuse or justification for their tyrannical behavior. These evil folk believed in the “Mouth of Apocalypse” and were called the Teeth of Oblivion. Fortunately they were not common in or around Magnimar.

Within a few years Qatana felt comfortable with her skills and the divine magics granted by Groetus, and she decided it was time for her to seek her own destiny.

But first she returned to Sandpoint to visit Shalelu and decide from there where she would venture forth.

Character: Ivan

Ivan Milner, 16-year-old human Oracle of Battle

On a caravan trip to Korvosa in 4667 Ivan sr. met Ivan’s grandmother while traveling through the town of Harse. As grandfather tells it they fell instantly in love and she joined him on the caravan down to Korvosa and then over to Magnimar. By the time they reach Magnimar it was obvious that grandmother was not suited for caravan travel. In Magnimar they heard of the farm settlements to the northeast near the village of Sandpoint. On the journey to the farm lands is when Ivan Sr. met his life long friend Yahy. Yahy passed away just last year so these days Grandfather gets a little choked up when regaling his adventures with Yahy. As grandfather tells it he gave up his bow to be with the love of his life.

In 4684 Yahy’s Son Noah marries Ivan’s Daughter Sara and they start there own family. The twins Abby and Ivan were born 4696 and are the youngest of seven children, Ivan was named after his grandfather. On the morning of Ivan’s and Abby’s 10th birthday Ivan was having a hard time controlling the excitement about finally being able to go hunting with grandfather. Ivan Sr. had a tradition of taking the children out on there 10th birthday to teach them how to use the bow and hunting basics. His older siblings kept telling Ivan that it was going to be boring and that Ivan and Abby should humor grandfather. Ivan took to the bow as if he had used one all of his life, Abby was more likely to hurt herself with the bow but as normal she just enjoyed being with grandfather and Ivan. For the next 3 years Ivan spent every free moment practicing with bow and hunting skills learned from his grandfather. Abby mean time planned the crop rotations, designed new barns, and logically mapped where she expected Ivan can find game.  While grandfather, mother, and Abby supported his desire to hunt most of his family believed that he was wasting time.

Finally a teenager Ivan was a proficient hunter making extra money selling game to butcher shops in Sandpoint. Even though he was bringing in meat to the family and helping out on the farm it was not good enough for most of the family. Throughout the spring and summer of 4707 Ivan spent more time helping out on the farm but still he could not do enough in the eyes of his brothers. Abby just laughed at him when he complained about his brothers and slyly suggested that he might have better luck helping out the women. Abby loves the farm while Ivan can’t wait to get out and see the world. Abby always seems to know when Ivan is returning to the farm and he swears sometimes she can read his mind. Abby says that she is the brains and Ivan is the eye candy. When it come to the two of them Abby doesn’t believe in boundaries or modesty, its as if they are almost part of the same person.

Ivan, Abby, Sam and their other friend’s barely escaped the goblin attack during the Swallowtail festival in 4707. This was a celebration and he left the bow at a friend’s house. A group of them had to close up in a house until the Hero’s could drive off the goblins. If Ivan had just brought his bow with him maybe he could also be a hero and get away from farming. Sam and Abby started dating. Ivan quickly realizes that Sam and Abby are perfect for each other.

During the Giant evasion of 4708 Abby and Ivan were on the farm celebrating Sam’s birthday. Everyone on the farms hid from the giant army. The giant army was focused on Sandpoint so they escaped without anyone in the family being hurt. In the distance he could see the light of what he presumed was Sandpoint burning.

In 4710 Sam and Abby are married. By that fall Abby is pregnant with there first child. Even with all of this the bond between Abby and Ivan remains strong, sometimes it just included Sam. Ivan’s relationship with his father was so strained that he moved into Sam and Abby’s spare room. Ivan made a deal with Abby that he would not leave until she had her second child. By early spring Abby and Sam had a little girl that they named Patty. Late summer Abby once again was pregnant.  Life continued on with Ivan spending his free time either hunting or helping Sam and Abby with there farm.

On Ivan’s and Abby’s 16th birthday Ivan’s father announced that Ivan was engaged to the neighbor’s daughter, who happened to only be 11 years old. While she looked like a fully developed woman, she was still just 11 years old. It was at that moment that Ivan, Abby, and Sam realized his days as a farmer where over.

The next morning Ivan awakes to Abby sitting next to him with his packed bag in one hand and her week old son Gavin in the other. Stepping out the door Ivan found his mother waiting to say goodbye. Ivan gave his mother and sister hugs before heading down the dirt road towards the lost coast road. Abby and there mother stood there watching Ivan walk down the road until he was well out of sight. Although Abby always knew Ivan couldn’t stay on the farm she already missed him. Abby and her mother head back into the house where Abby brews a fresh pot of coffee.

At the lost coast road Ivan was jumped by a band of highway robbers. Everything went black and the next thing he remembers is seeing an old woman’s face seemingly talking to her self “Desna be praised he still lives”. At that moment Ivan was sure that he saw butterflies all around the two of them.

After a few minutes Ivan stood up and began to thank the traveling caravan for saving him but suddenly began to feel dizzy and Ivan felt intense itching all over is torso. He dropped his bow and began crazily scratching all over. After several tense moments it just stopped. Very confused Ivan reaches down to pick up his bow and it was gone! One of the guards found the bow off to his left and handed it back to him. At this point Koya asked Ivan to drop his bow to the ground again and this time it ended up 10 feet behind him. Koya immediately check Ivan for more injuries but to her surprise found what looked to be tattoos for what she believed were representatives of all of the known deity holy symbols all across Ivan’s torso.

Koya’s friend Kendric who was visiting from Magnimar was in town to pay respect for the passing of her mother. He had just returned from a trip from some foreign land to the south. Kendric and Koya help Ivan understand his new abilities. A couple of days after the attack Abby, Sam, and Mother show up with the children to make sure he is ok. Ivan explains what is happening to him and shows Abby the tattoos. Abby just tells Ivan that he has always had these gifts and the gods were just tired of waiting for him to figure it out.  Ivan really wanted to know why the gods did this to him but he now has come to understand that the gods and Abby work in mysterious ways. He has resolved himself that he will never know which god or gods gave him this curse/gift or why. Ivan once again said is goodbyes to his family as they head back to the farm.

Over the last few weeks Ivan has been making is way by hunting. On some evenings he heads to the tavern and buys a round of drinks for the caravan guards that helped save his life on the eventful day. They start telling fantastic stories of adventure during the many travels with the caravan. Ivan often ends up buying several rounds as he can’t get enough of the stories. The stories are fueling Ivan’s desires to get out on the road. Koya just tells Ivan that she will talk to Sandru about him joining the caravan when the time is right.

Character: Kali

Kali Nassim, 22-year-old human Wizard/Evangelist of Shelyn

Akmal Nassim was born and raised in Niswan, the capital of the Kingdom of Jalmeray. His family owned a small fleet of merchant vessels and from a very early age he was travelling the Inner Sea, learning the business of trade and developing a desire to see (and a taste for) the world far beyond Casmaron. As an adult, he took a job as a trade manager with the Maalolan Trading Company which manages routes much farther north than his family’s business, reaching up into Avistan. Within a few years he was put in charge of the Varisian accounts, and was spending significant time in Korvosa and Magnimar. It was in the former in 4688 that Akmal met his wife, Denea Borellan, a fiercely outspoken and independent Varisian woman and scholar of Chelaxian descent. They were married within a year and not soon after were pregnant with their first and only child, Kali, who was born in the spring of 4690.

For the first few years, the Nassim family maintained residences in both Korvosa and Niswan, traveling frequently as was necessary for Akmal’s work, and Denea used this opportunity to provide much needed research for a Varisian gazatteer on the Inner Sea. In 4694, however, Kali was taken extremely ill during an overland journey with symptoms closely resembling malaria. In an unfortunate accident the bag of holding carrying the medical supplies and potions was pierced and its contents were lost, and it was several days before she could be taken to a suitable cleric for healing. Though the disease was cured, it was not in time to prevent a lasting toll and her growth would be stunted in the years ahead.

After this scare, Denea convinced her husband that a life of frequent travel without a single place to call home was not the best way to raise their daughter. With Denea’s influence and connections in Korvosa, combined with a modest down payment taken from their own savings, Akmal left the Maalolan Trading Company in 4695 to form Nassim Goods with his wife, with the intent of extending the trade of Casmaron goods further north in Varisia as well as bringing a greater share of them to markets in Magnimar. In 4696 they were ready to own their warehouses rather than lease, but Magnimar real estate was too expensive and they turned to the growing community of Sandpoint up the coast where they settled in the fall. Despite this change there would still be travel in their lives, only less of it.

While Kali’s parents had few issues with life in a smaller city as a mixed couple–Akmal had long developed a tolerance for intolerance, and as a Chelaxian Denea did not care what other people thought–Kali herself did not adjust well. She was shorter and slighter than other children her age and even those one or two years younger, her skin much darker than “normal” despite being light for a Vudrani, her accent noticeable even if mild and she did not participate in many games or physical activities with others. This and her growing social awkwardness made her a frequent target for harassment.

Despite being a little withdrawn and introverted, Kali did make several friends and in particular grew close to Ameiko Kaijitsu. As one of the few obvious foreigners in Sandpoint that was close in age Ameiko was arguably the most understanding of Kali’s situation and certainly the most influential. She was also, from Kali’s perspective, everything that Kali was not: confident, strong, attractive, popular and streetwise. When the childhood harassment turned into bullying and violence in her teenage years, it was Ameiko that taught Kali how to watch out for herself, be aware of her surroundings and even to defend herself using her small size to her advantage.

Akmal and Denea were not blind to Kali’s problems. While the extent and magnitude of the bullying was not known, they were aware it was happening and of course could see she was struggling with the other children. Denea did what she could as a mother, but recognized that Kali was reaching an age where too much parental involvement would make matters worse rather than better. There was also a part of her that believed if Kali sorted this out on her own she would be much stronger for it. She would provide Kali with support, for certain, but she would not solve her daughter’s problems for her. Akmal, for his part, tried to teach her some basic defensive skills with a small khopesh, a traditional weapon in Jalmerav, but she did not have the physical strength to wield it properly. Even with smaller blades, when she could manage them she was still easily overpowered. In the end, she learned to shoot a small crossbow–even a standard bow and arrow proved too much for her–despite the fact that it was far from practical as a weapon of self defense. It was, however, better than nothing and when she turned out to be a good shot it seemed to provide a boost to her confidence. Both parents were also reelieved to see that some of her friends, Ameiko in particular, seemed to watch out for her since they clearly could not do so 24 hours a day.

If they knew everything about her later years they would have been more alarmed. Kali, however, was determined to keep as much of it from her parents as she could. The first time she was really hurt was when one of the Theern twins “taught her a lesson” about her place in the world as a dark-skinned foreigner girl, a lesson which ended with a split lip and a deep cut over her eye when her face was slammed to the ground. Kali was so horrified when the Cathedral priest that healed her insisted on talking to her parents that she falsely confessed to starting the fight by baiting the boy and then shoving him. She was ashamed thrice over: once for being so easily beaten, a second time for being forced to air it publicly and a third for lying to cover it all up. That was the last time she turned to the Cathedral. From that point on she relied on Ameiko’s talent for “finding” potions, or visits to Koya if she was at home. Koya was no fool and would consistently lecture her about the importance of talking to her parents, but she could also be trusted to leave it at that. Over time, and with Ameiko’s help, there was less she had to hide but it felt like an eternity getting there.

Just before Kali’s 12th birthday in 4702, Ameiko came to her one evening looking distraught and clearly very, very angry. She explained that she had just had a fight with her brother (Kali had been in Sandpoint long enough to know this history, and knew just enough from her relationship with Ameiko to separate fact from rumor). She did not say what it was about—close as they were, Ameiko rarely talked about her family—or what had transpired, only that she was “finished with Sandpoint and her family” and was making plans to leave. Kali erringly thought this was just bluff and bluster from her friend, and was thoroughly shocked when she learned that Ameiko had run away from home two days later. Ameiko had been her rock, and now Kali felt adrift.

A few months later, Ameiko’s mother died in a freak accident. The details of this were sketchy and rumors abounded but the consensus among the residents of Sandpoint was that she had fallen and broken her neck. Word had gotten to Ameiko, though, and she returned to Sandpoint to attend the funeral. They were out of earshot when the fight between she and her brother started so Kali did not hear what was said, but it was very clear that several years’ worth of family discord had come to a head. Tsuto stormed away. This time, he left town for good, and Ameiko felt trapped: with no other family, someone had to stay home and help care for her father.

As their friendship grew, Kali became acutely aware of how unhappy Ameiko was becoming at home around her father, and was not surprised the night in 4705 when Ameiko announced that she was leaving Sandpoint. Again. Kali knew now to take Ameiko seriously when she spoke like this, and even more so not to try and talk her out of a decision she has so clearly made, but she was still surprised by the circumstances: she and the brothers Alder and Sandru Vhiski had signed on with a small group of adventurers, “looking for fame and fortune” as the saying went, and simply…vanished.

A few years previous losing her friend so suddenly had been devastating, but now? Kali instead stopped to examine her own life. It would not be long before she would officially be an adult. What exactly did that mean? She always identified as Vudrani. She looked Vudrani, felt Vudrani and, frankly, admired her father’s ethnic roots more than her mother’s (not that she did not love her mother, of course, it was just that Cheliax had a foul reputation, and that reputation was in her opinion one that was well-deserved). The problem was that she did not act Vudrani, nor could she see herself living in her father’s homeland. They had visited many times over the years but her Varisian upbringing, combined with her mother’s spirited nature and influence, meant that she could never, ever accept the backwards, misogynist caste system so pervasive in that society. She could be proud of her heritage, yes, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be a part of its present. So her future would have to be here, in Varisia, even though she didn’t really fit in here, either.

She could, of course, work in the family business and her parents would be overjoyed to have her there. She knew enough of how it operated that she could easily learn the business of business on the job, and she absolutely loved the mix of cultures and the travel, except…except, her parents didn’t really travel much any more. They were running the business, not managing or negotiating trades themselves, and it seemed that there was more administration and less travel every year. She increasingly saw Nassim Goods as an anchor weighing her down to Sandpoint for years to come.

Yet, her life seemed to be defaulting in this direction. Early on, her dad taught her to speak Elvish because, like the common tongue, it was widely known and thus very useful in foreign cultures, particularly where common was either not known or simply not spoken because it was seen as demeaning. That merchants specifically valued Elvish as a language was no secret to anyone. Her mother taught her Thassilonian because “that’s what educated, civilized people do”, but Kali knew mom cultivated a niche within Nassim Goods dealing in Thassilonian historical artifacts. Even the family’s personal travel always involved business of some sort, and when she was old enough and mature enough to be included that just became the new routine. It was like they were grooming her to run it, consciously or not, and the older she got and more aware of it she became the less she wanted to be a part of it. But what else was there?

The answer to her question came, as answers often did, from Ameiko: like her friend she needed to carve her own path, and do it on her own terms (later, she would recognize the Chelaxian in this epiphany as well). For as long as she could remember she had let her physical limitations dictate her life, and she had consistently made decisions based on what she couldn’t do. That was backwards. What she could do was something where her physical limits were largely irrelevant, and the next morning she informed her parents that she wanted to study magic.

They were enthusiastic about this change in direction. To Denea, it was not so much a change as it was…well…a direction of any sort, something Kali’s life had been lacking to date. To Akmal, it meant that he could stop worrying about his daughter’s safety. Or at least, he would be able to stop worrying at some point in the near future. And to both, it meant their daughter would be developing skills and talents they could both be proud of. It was not just a challenging and potentially rewarding path, but also a distinguished one. Within a few weeks, her parents were researching schools in Magnimar and found several options for her once she turned eighteen.

Kali was surprised yet again when Ameiko returned the following year. This time, however, their reunion was much, much different: Kali noticed a distance that wasn’t there before. Ameiko had always been guarded about her personal life, particularly where it concerned her family, but this was much different. She did not want to talk about herself and she did not want to talk about what had happened during her time away from Sandpoint or any of her adventures at all. Kali knew better than to press her on the subjects: clearly Ameiko needed some time, and she would talk about these things when she was ready. Except “ready” never came. Instead, Ameiko abruptly purchased an inn with some of the money she had acquired over the past year, ran it personally as her full-time business, all but disowned her father and became even more guarded about her personal life than ever. She was still happy to have Kali as a friend, but it was clear that “close friend” was no longer on the table. Not for Kali and, as near as Kali could tell, not for anyone else, either.

While Kali was preparing for her new studies and getting more excited about her future, Akmal was growing more concerned about his family’s. Sandpoint had seemed to be a wise business decision nearly a decade before but it was starting to look less so now. It was still cheaper to own and operate out of the warehouses and ports here than in Magnimar, even including the caravan transport and insurance charges, but Sandpoint itself seemed to have settled under a dark cloud that nothing could burn away. During the Late Unpleasantness, one of his warehouse workers fell victim to The Chopper leaving behind an uneducated and illiterate wife to raise their three young children. His foreman was killed in the great fire that consumed many of the buildings around the Cathedral. The strange stories told about the young lady Nualia, whom he had seen in town but did not personally know, quickly developed a more sinister tone when it was learned that she had perished in the fire as well but that her remains were nowhere to be found.

In the following years, the occasional goblin nuisance had become frequent enough that it was now an accepted part of life in town. Kali, who had grown up surrounded by all of this oddness, did not bat an eye at ancient magics, goblin raids and rumors of worse, but Akmal and Denea had seen more than enough of the world to know that the pattern of events taking shape in Sandpoint was far from normal. When goblins raided the city on the night of the Swallowtail festival in 4707, two more employees were killed along with some members of their families, and several buildings in town were damaged. That was followed by bizarre murders at the sawmill, and Akmal started to worry about not just about his family’s future but also their collective safety.

Normally, Akmal would dismiss such concerns. He grew up around blades and was capable enough with the khopesh that he was still alive and sporting only a couple of minor scars. And Denea? She and her parents may have been born in Varisia, but they were Chelaxian through and through. He had yet to meet a Chelaxian woman that was uncomfortable around a sword, and Denea’s only hesitation with one would be whether to run it through your left eye or your right. But it was one thing to discourage ambitious thieves, fend off drunken would-be “suitors” and pound the occasional violent thug, and yet another entirely to face a small army of invading…creatures. When giants attacked the town the following year with the help of an enormous dragon, setting much of the town on fire along with many of its residents, Akmal had had enough. Shortly before Kali began her studies in Magnimar, he relocated both his business and his family there as well.

For Kali, life in Magnimar was exhilirating after living so many years in a small city, but she did recognize that it also was more dangerous: she was still a short, young woman with a very slight frame and exotic appearance only now she was of age, and that potentially made her a beacon for every kind of unsavory element that Magnimar had to offer, and Magnimar had a lot to offer. But Ameiko had taught her well: the secrets to survival as a woman were to always be vigilant and, most importantly, to not look like a victim.

The former was easy as it had been literally beaten into her when she was young, but the latter took some careful work on her clothing and overall appearance. For the finishing touch on her new city look, she sold the small khopesh her father had given her years ago…and replaced it with a much, much larger one custom made with a particularly wicked blade. At over two feet in length it looked ridiculously large strapped to her 5’6″ body, but it also looked exceptionally lethal. It didn’t matter that Kali could only posture with it (and just barely, that): it served its purpose as a deterrent and over the next year she never once had to do more than draw it—which is good, because if she actually had to swing the stupid thing the ruse would have been over. In her updated attire she couldn’t quite wander the city with impunity, but she was not restricted to daylight hours in only the safest, most sanitized parts of it, either.

In 4712, as her apprenticeship was coming to an end, she received a letter from Ameiko asking her to come to Sandpoint for a visit. “Think of it as a graduation trip,” she wrote. Kali didn’t have to do so for very long before making the decision to go. Dad would fret, as dad always did, especially since it was Sandpoint (no matter that it had been quiet there for four whole years) but that couldn’t be helped. This was her decision to make, and she missed her friend.

Jade Regent

MinkaiOur Jade Regent adventure path from Paizo began in October 2015 and concluded in December 2019 with the defeat of the Jade Regent.

When a decades-old secret is exposed, an unassuming local tavern-owner and a close friend of the PCs discovers her birthright is to rule one of the ancient Dragon Empires of Tian Xia—the empire of Minkai. Yet the current ruler of this empire, the mysterious and increasingly cruel Jade Regent, has no intention of giving up his hold over the throne. In order to save Minkai from a would-be tyrant, the PCs must not only escort their friend from Varisia to Tian Xia, braving the frozen horrors of the Crown of the World, but must aid her in gaining the trust and support of a nation on the edge of anarchy.

 

From left to right: Zosimus, Ivan, Qatana, Dasi, Olmas, Radella and Kali

Cast of Characters

  • Dasi, male half-elf Bard, played by Mike ( Journal )
  • Ivan Milner, male human Oracle of Battle, played by Darren ( Background | Journal )
  • Kali Nassim, female human Wizard/Evangelist of Shelyn, played by John ( Background | Journal )
  • Olmas Lurecia, male half-elf Cavalier, played by Rick ( Background | Journal )
  • Radella Tauriel, female half-elf Rogue/Ranger, played by Cassandra
  • Zosimus, male gnome Alchemist, played by SteveM ( Background | Journal )

Retired or on hiatus

  • Anavaru Orion, female human Ranger, played by Beth ( Background | Journal )
  • Etayne Andosana, female half-elf Witch, played by Kevin ( Background | Journal )
  • Qatana Marchand, female human Cleric of Groetus, played by Leonard ( Background | Journal )
  • Sparna Rockmeld, male dwarf Fighter, played by Mike ( Journal )

Animals, Magical Creatures, and Companions

  • Kasimir, male horse animal companion (Olmas)
  • Nihali, female raven familiar (Kali)

Retired or on hiatus

  • F16, male viper (Anavaru)
  • Ling, male fox familiar (Etayne)
  • Sopwith, male camel (Anavaru)

Non-Player Characters

The Jade Regent campaign includes several NPC’s that are significant to the story and accompany the PC’s on parts or all the adventure.

The starting NPCs are:

  • Shalelu Andosana, female elf Ranger
  • Ameiko Kaijitsu, female human Bard
  • Koya Mvashti, old female human Cleric of Desna
  • Sandru Vhiski, male human Rogue
  • Bevelek and Vankor Dalmuvian, male human Experts

Significant NPC’s who joined the party or their caravan:

  • Helgarval, cassisian angel of Desna (departed in Kalsgard, Aro 18, 4712)
  • Kelda Oxgutter, female human Barbarian (departed in Kalsgard, Aro 11, 4712)
  • Skygni, male winter wolf (departed on the high ice, Neth 14, 4712)
  • Spivey, female lyrakien Cleric of Desna (departed in Kalsgard, Aro 11, 4712)