Way of the Wicked
Summoner in The Place of Spirits
Male Biped (Claws)
Summoner (Synthesist) 7
LE Medium humanoid (elf)
Init 3 Dex, 3 Trait bonus vs. mind-affecting spells and effects from demons); 6+1d6 cold) and
2 claws 6+1d6 cold)
Rend 6+1d6 cold)
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 7th; concentration +12)
8/day—summon monster IV; Maker’s Jump
Summoner (Synthesist) Spells Known (CL 7th; concentration +12):
3rd (2/day)— greater invisibility, rejuvenate eidolon
2nd (4/day)— bear’s endurance, bull’s strength, force spikes, lesser evolution surge, see invisibility
1st (6/day)— alarm, corrosive touch, enlarge person, lesser rejuvenate eidolon, mage armor, prot from good, shield
0 (at will)— detect magic, light, mage hand, mending, message, read magic
Str 23, Dex 17, Con 16, Int 18, Wis 14, Cha 20
Base Atk +6; CMB +12; CMD 30 (can’t be tripped)
Feats Expanded Arcana, eldritch claws, extra evolutions, leadership, craft wondrous item
Traits asmodean demon hunter
Skills Fly 13 on checks related
to demons), Knowledge (religion) 16 to
determine the properties of a magic item), Use Magic Device +15
Languages: Abyssal, Celestial, Common, Daemonic, Draconic, Elven, Goblin, Infernal, Orc
SQ arcane focus, eidolon link, elven magic, fused eidolon, fused link, share spells with eidolon, urbanite
Arcane Focus +2 to concentration checks to cast arcane spells defensively.
Asmodean Demon Hunter You gain a +3 trait bonus on Knowledge (planes) checks about demons and
a +2 trait bonus on Will saves against mind-affecting spells and effects from demons.
Eidolon Link (Ex) Mental link allows communication over any distance, but share magic item slots.
Elven Immunities – Sleep You are immune to magic sleep effects.
Elven Magic +2 to spellcraft checks to determine the properties of a magic item.
Fused Eidolon A synthesist summons the essence of a powerful outsider to meld with his own being.
The synthesist wears the eidolon like translucent, living armor. The eidolon mimics all of the synthesist’s
movements, and the synthesist perceives through the eidolon
Fused Link (Su) Starting at 1st level, the synthesist forms a close bond with his eidolon. Whenever the
temporary hit points from his eidolon would be reduced to 0, the summoner can, as a free action, sacrifice any number of his own hit points. Each hit point sacrificed heals eidolon.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Share Spells with Eidolon (Ex) Your spells ignore type restrictions for Eidolon and it can recieve your personal spells.
Summon Monster IV (8/day) (Sp) Standard action summon lasts minutes, but only 1 active at a time and
can’t use with eidolon.
Urbanite +2 Diplomacy to gather information & Sense Motive to read a social situation.
History of the Fall
It was long ago, so long ago that it has been all but forgotten by the short-lived humans. The once great and prosperous kingdom of the Elves was shaken by the arrival of the first Talireans. These first incursions of these humans were not directed against Elven settlements (or any of the other demihuman lands for that matter); in fact they were very anxious to build relations with Elvish, Dwarven, Gnomish, and Halfling settlements. However, their vigorous advances and desire to “civilize” the wilderness in ever-expanding swaths of clear-cut forests resulted in a series of great wars that never made it into the history texts of Talingarde. Hordes of monsters and savage humanoid tribes descended upon Elven forests and Dwarven mountains alike as they fled from the burgeoning human settlements. Thousands of casualties littered the landscape as kingdoms valiantly tried to defend their ancestral homes. After years of conflict, the kingdoms ultimately fell, one by one, as the hordes’ attacks took their toll. Finally accepting the cold truth of their situation, those beleaguered few that survived sought refuge in the human settlements.
Angolion Skilli’Skiahi (known simply as “Ski” to most humans) was born into this world where the humans of Talingarde were the dominant force and presence over everything in the region. Elves, Dwarves, and Halflings lived alongside the humans well enough, but they were never quite treated as true equals. The humans were there to protect those that escaped the savagery of their former homes, something that was seen as confirmation of the manifest destiny of the humans to be protectors and rulers over all the “lesser” humanoids, not that such sentiments were ever spoken aloud. Despite this polite silence, the message sent through unspoken channels of tone and demeanor was deafening. Humans had a propensity to exude privilege and entitlement even when trying to put on an egalitarian face.
The short-lived humans had no knowledge of, nor cared to have any curiosity about, the civilizations that came before them. It was there, if any had the will to look for it, the histories and stories of Elven kingdoms, great Dwarven mining cities, and legendary Halfling festivals could be found. Books and scrolls salvaged from ruins in the savage north filled the shelves of libraries and universities, containing knowledge that could be used for the enlightenment and betterment of all. However, most humans blithely bypassed such tomes in favor of a treatise on how Mitra is savior of all, instructions on how to build churches, or debates on the best techniques in forging armor. Not surprisingly, human interests had all the foresight and nuance of an Orc skinny dipping in a temple fountain.
Angolion was descended from a long line of wizards and sorcerers that had served the royal Elven courts for millennia. His ancestors had served as advisors, instructors, and protectors wielding arcane power to provide stability and security in the face of innumerable threats over thousands of years. In the last days, as the savage monstrous hordes pushed ever closer, his father and grandfather helped to erect a Mythal, an exquisite construct of ancient Elven magic, in an effort to protect the few remaining Elves. The physical and magical attacks of the monstrous hordes crashed against this mystical barrier relentlessly for months, allowing the Elven refugees to safely evacuate. Angolion’s father and grandfather remained behind with ten other defenders as the last line of defense against the onslaught. The Mythal began to give way beneath the incredible force of the attacks, glimmering cracks spreading across the luminescent barrier, and the Elven defenders stood strong as they prepared for battle. Against impossible odds, ten Elven defenders stood their ground steadfastly until the end, unleashing tremendous arcs of arcane energy to thin the monstrous waves. Ultimately, even the strength of these champions could not stand against the might of the unending assault, and each of their lives went out as stars engulfed in a dark abyss. The place of this heroic last stand is reverently referred to as the Place of Souls.
These stories are not known by the humans, who acknowledge and praise only their own kind, those who can ascend to some level of import in the fleeting years of their lives. In the homes and circles of Elves, however, these events are remembered and revered; the familial ties are not forgotten. Under the well-meaning but condescending noses of the human population, a preservation movement arose to maintain Elven culture and knowledge. The traditional orders of the various martial and arcane arts continued to train and practice covertly in their adopted home. The typical human rarely notices the mild-mannered Elven chef whose skill with a carving knife is so uncanny that it belies a deeper skill with all manner of bladed instruments. Similarly, the preoccupied human professor gives no thought to the ever-present Elven librarian that fetches ancient tomes for him, scribes his dictation, and cleans up afterwards. Angolion was one of these librarians, working by day at the university and running errands for various researchers. Little did they expect that the unassuming Elf was gifted in the arcane arts and likely more powerful than any of the human wizards that preened as they lectured the doe-eyed university students that hung on their every word. The library was where he found his first clue…the bright shining image of the peaceful and prosperous Talingarde is a veil hiding the treacherous truth behind the rise of Darius and the church of Mitra.
For years, Angolion quietly worked at the library, seeing to the needs and requests of professors and researchers form a wide range of disciplines. None of those privileged, entitled, condescending humans realized that the unassuming elf was himself a fount of arcane knowledge and lore. Descended from a great line, his potential power dwarfed that of the most highly regarded wizards in the king’s employ. It was exactly for this reason that he took great pains to conceal this from the human patrons of the university…to the point of developing an overly bookish, distracted, and often clumsy alter ego that he used in the company of humans. At night, Angolion was able to shed this mousy persona and pursue his research and training. One night, he came across a treasure trove of information as he was studying some scrolls brought in recently by one of the more adventurous researchers. The scrolls referenced the theory and magic behind constructing a Mythal, an invaluable arcane text that would simply be overlooked or dismissed by human scholars. This scroll was not just regarding theory in the abstract, it was a description of the preparations of The Twelve as they constructed the last stand against the hordes. Over the next several weeks, Angolion studied this set of scrolls in depth, uncovering their secrets and deciphering hidden codes. Each scroll of the set was a treasure unto itself, but combining the hidden signs of each scroll together lead to an even greater fortune…the location of The Place of Spirits, where the sacrifice of The Twelve allowed the Elven race to survive.
Intent on finding the sacred site, Angolion made plans to inconspicuously have a reason to take to the road alone, headed toward the Savage North. Fortunately, the professor who had brought in the scrolls was planning on a follow-up expedition, and came to the library to request some important reference texts. It was easy enough to compile the tomes, and innocently “forget” a small but critical journal as he helped the overworked student assistants load the academic material. Almost like clockwork, a harried and gaunt student came limping back through the northern gatehouse about two weeks after the professor’s expedition started their journey. The self-absorbed academic ordered the student to hurry back to town, alone, and fetch the journal. It was amazing that the student survived, although it looked like that was far from certain at the moment. The unlucky student had been sent on foot about a week earlier, with only a waterskin, a few pieces of hard tack, and a dagger for protection. It appeared that the student had survived a number of attacks by predators, both the animal and human kind. Once he was given sustenance and his wounds had been tended, he was able to communicate that he needed the librarian. Angolion came to the infirmary as soon as he heard the news, feeling a slight pang of remorse for the student’s plight yet a roaring conflagration of anger at the professor that chose to put a young student at risk rather than send a message via spell or falcon. Angolion comforted the student and assured him that he would get the journal to the professor, and he urged the nurses to look after the poor student and make sure that he rested. After retrieving his already backpack, Angolion procured a sturdy riding mount from the stablemaster and headed out on the North Road shortly after midnight, heedless of the whispers of the guards. To those simple men of middling martial skill, they thought that the Elf was riding out into certain doom in the black of the night.
The road initially was easy, well-traveled and well kept, but the farther north it progressed, the more treacherous and savage the road and surrounding forests became. Angolion’s skills and arcane might were tested on more than one occasion as he ventured further into the Savage North, which only fueled his anger toward the pampered academic that would so thoughtlessly send a lone student out on this road while secure and protected in his well-guarded caravan. Making note of his route, Angolion recognized some of the signs he had uncovered in the scrolls; it appeared that the professor’s expedition was headed in the general direction of the site of the sacrifice. More vigilant now, it became clear that the professor’s destination, either intentional or by chance, was close to Angolion’s goal. Finally, he could see the campfires in the distance, and was astonished to realize how close this human was to the sacred site; surely, this could not be happenstance. Carefully approaching to get a closer look at the camp, Angolion’s suspicions were confirmed as he witnessed the professor consorting with Sir Balin of Karfeld, much acclaimed “witch hunter” and self-proclaimed champion of Mitra. It was no coincidence that any slight rumor of unrest or dissent would inevitably result in an “investigation” that revealed a secret coven of “witches” or “demon worshippers”. Of course, Sir Balin’s judgments were unquestioned and none of the accused survived long enough to respond to the charges. This supposedly objective academic was openly and willingly assisting the dreadful knight, uncovering sacred sites in the ruins of former Elven, Dwarven, and Halfling communities. Sir Balin and his minions would then desecrate and destroy any remnants of shrines and temples to deities other than the bright and shining Mitra.
As the realization of the professor’s betrayal was just beginning to set in, Angolion heard a whisper at the edge of his consciousness, a pull toward the east. As he followed the pull, the Elf recognized the site as he approached; he could feel the pulse of the lingering magic of the Mythal that once shielded the area. He had found it, The Place of Spirits, and the power was palpable. Angolion knew that he had to make contact, and he began the ritual of summoning. As the magical conduit was completed, a flood of memories assaulted the determined Elf; memories of battle, memories of loss, and memories of pain swirled through his consciousness. The voices and images of each of The Twelve echoed through Angolion’s mind, and slowly cacophony became clearer and more unified, and finally a deep and resonant voice said, “Welcome, Angolion Skilli’Skiahi, we are glad you have come to fulfill that which was foretold. We see you, and feel the blood connection. We are Achar’fael, the embodiment of vengeance for all that fell because of the encroachment of the humans and the treachery of the House Darius.” Already, Angolion could feel the bond strengthening, the remaining power of The Twelve combining with his own. Now joined, Angolion and the eidolon Achar’fael looked to the intruding expedition that threatened this sacred site. They hoped to catch Sir Balin off-guard to make him pay for all the innocent blood that he had spilled in the name of Mitra, but the knight was no longer in camp. In a blinding whirlwind of death and destruction, guards and students alike were gutted in a matter of seconds, leaving only the professor cowering in his opulent tent. Angolion walked slowly toward the whimpering human; a look of shock and horror flashed across the professor’s face as he realized that creature responsible for tearing his caravan to shreds was the mild-mannered librarian…then a gurgled scream and a gusher of blood as his throat was ripped out. All in all, it was a fitting beginning to this journey of retribution vengeance. Angolion proceeded along the road south, visiting upon any human settlement or shrine of Mitra and meting out judgment and punishment, leaving a swath of destruction in his wake. By the time Sir Balin’s forces finally subdued him, the list of offenses included the following: Murder, Heresy, Desecration, Consorting with Dark Powers, Blasphemy, and Arson.