Jo'lith - Mul Cleric of Air

Name: Jo'lith
Level: 8
Class: Cleric of Air 5/ Elementalist 2/Fighter 1
Race: Mul - Fallen Warrior

Abilities


Physical Description
Height: 6'2” Weight: 220 lbs
Description: Standing just over six feet tall, Jo'lith is the picture of perfect health. The only blemishes that mark his almost perfect physique are two scars, one on his left hand and the other on his right bicep which takes the shape of a lightning bolt. Other than those two imperfections, he embodies the standard Mul look. With no hair on his copper colored skin and the typical angular features, he is considered nothing more than typical.

His battle worn armor gives him the look of a veteran, although he keeps it in pristine condition or at least the best he can. The breastplate is a dark blue hue, with flicks of yellow giving a strange illusion of a storm brewing. He typically can be seen with his Maul and his shield on his back, warhammer on one side of his belt and the skyhammer on the other. He generally uses his short spear as a walking stick, so that he always has it at the ready.


HP
Max: 86

AC
10 (base) + 2 (Dex) + 8 (Breastplate +3) + 2 (Natural) = 22
10 (base) + 2 (Dex) + 8 (Breastplate +3) + 2 (Natural) + 4 (Force Screen) = 26
10 (base) + 2 (Dex) = 12 Touch

Saving Throws
Fort +6 = 6 (base) + 0 (Con)
Refl +3 = 1 (base) + 2 (Dex)
Will +10 = 7 (base) + 3 (Wis)

Total Attack Bonus Melee/Ranged
Total Attack Melee +11 = 5 (BAB) + 6 (Str)
Total Attack Ranged +7 = 5 (BAB) + 2 (Dex)
*+3 to hit with Maul (Weapon Focus and Magic +2)

Weapons


Armor
Breastplate +3 (AC 8, Max Dex 3, Armor Check Penalty -3)
Heavy Wooden Shield (AC 2, Armor Check -2)

Skills


Feats
Armor Pro (Light)
Armor Pro (Medium)
Armor Pro (Shields, except Tower)
Weapon Pro (Simple)
Weapon Pro (All Ranged Martial)
Weapon Pro (Maul, Skyhammer, Warhammer)
Somantic Weaponry
Devotion of Air
Augment Healing
Weapon Focus (Maul)
Power Attack


Racial Abilities
Darkvision: Muls can see in the dark up to 30 feet. Darkvision is black and white only, but is otherwise like
normal sight, and muls can function just fine with no light at all.
Tireless: Muls get a +4 racial bonus to checks for performing a physical action that extends over a period of
time (running, swimming, holding breath, and so on). This bonus stacks with the Endurance feat. This bonus
may also be applied to savings throws against spells and magical effects that cause weakness, fatigue,
exhaustion or enfeeblement.
Extended activity: Muls may engage in up to 12 hours of hard labor or forced marching without suffering
from fatigue.
Dwarven Blood: For all special abilities and effects, a mul is considered a dwarf. Muls, for example, can use
dwarvish weapons and magic items with racially specific dwarven powers as if they were dwarves.
Nonlethal Damage Resistance 1/-. Muls are difficult to subdue, and do not notice minor bruises, scrapes,
and other discomforts that pain creatures of other races.


Equipment
MW Short Spear
Warhammer
MW Skyhammer
Maul +2
Breastplate +3
Heavy Wooden Shield
Gauntlets of Lightning
Potion of Cure Light Wounds
Belt
Belt, Pouch
Waterskin x2
Rations x4
Storm's Blessing Tattoo

[whisper=TheUdjat,Jolith]
Cloak of Turn Resistance
Crystal of Arrow Deflection - Least
Psionic Tattoo - Touchsight
Dessicated fruit of Inflict Light Wounds x3
Dessicated fruit of Inflict Moderate Wounds x2
[/whisper]

Special Abilities
Despair - Jo'lith radiates an aura of doom and hopelessness, causing hostile creatures within 10' to make a Will Save (DC 10+1/2 HD+Cha). Creatures that fail are Shaken. No creature can be affected more than once in a 24 hour period.
Spell-like Abilities: At will - Death Knell, Deathwatch. 1/day - Recall Agony (as the psionic power, assume fully augmented for HD). Caster level equals HD. Save DCs are Charisma-based.

Special Qualities:
Damage Reduction: DR 5/magic
Gray Toughness: Jo'lith gains +2 HP per HD.

[whisper=TheUdjat,Jolith]The following abilities were granted to him.

Templar Spells Per Day

0th - 6+d
1st - 7+d
2nd - 7+d
3rd - 5+d

Domains
Darkness
1st: Obscuring Mist
2nd: Blindness/Deafness
3rd: Blacklight

Undeath
1st: Detect Undead
2nd: Desecrate
3rd: Animate Dead
[/whisper]

The following were powers and abilities that Jo'lith lost when his connection to the Elemental Air was severed.




Background

Never knowing his true parents, like many Muls, he was born straight into slavery. Even as a young child growing up his slavers had high hopes for him as he possessed all the qualities of one who would be a gifted student in the ways of war. At the age of 7 the slavers had finally sold him to a wealthy noble, whom would have him trained as a gladiator. That night the noble had his new slave tattooed with his family crest, a scorpion’s tail.

The very next day he was being pushed into a carriage, chains around his wrists. The caravan had set off across the desert sands to a nearby city where the child was to be trained in the ways of gladiatorial combat. However, fate had conspired for him to never reach the city. As the travelers were half way along their journey, they were attacked. To this day, the memories of that event are hazy. The only thing that sticks in his memory was that his carriage burst open as lightning split the wooden carriages roof in two. The force of the blow sent the carriage onto its side throwing it’s passengers onto the hot sand below.

Even though he was a mere child, he had been through rigorous training to hone his body, which came into use at this time. The first to recover from the tipping of the carriage, he made to his feet and began running. He was still a child and had not been taught the true dangers of what lay in the wastes, so he had no fear of running into the unknown dunes.

He had not gotten far from the carriage when an arrow pierced through the left side of his abdomen. Looking down at the blood trickling down his stomach, he turned around to see the scene. Chaos reigned as his vision blurred. There was only one thing that he made out before passing out; the noble who had bought him was thrown over the back of a horse, either dead or unconscious. Blackness stole his vision.

Pain shot through him, as he started to hear noises all around him. Forcing through the pain, he opened his eyes. It was no more than a slit, but he could see the area around him. There were at least a dozen people sitting in a cave laughing and drinking. Each man was unique, wearing clothes and weapons that he had never seen before.

Seeing that he was awake, a man wearing a lightning emblazoned breastplate walked over to him. He told him that he was now free. This seemed a strange concept to him at this point. Freedom? He had never really thought about it before, as he was raised to believe that fighting in the arena would be his life. The man introduced himself as Jo’lith.

Days into weeks, weeks into years; time passed as sand in an hourglass. He had learned many things over the years. The most important was his personal spiritual side. The sheer strength and power that nature could command was truly impressive. Years of study taught him to be able to command that same power. When he was still young, he was told that a cleric must choose which element nature he wished to call his own, and that one day he would have to make that choice. To him there was only one choice, the power of nature that had given him freedom. The power of the lightning was the element he would command. Of course, this was easiest for him also as the man that had freed him was a cleric of Air, and he had been the one who had conjured the lightning that struck his carriage.

He lived a life on the road, traveling from place to place, stealing and robbing from whomever the group deemed had something they wanted. His conscience always told him what he was doing was wrong, but what could he do? This was the only life he knew outside captivity. He knew not what the world truly was, or how to survive on his own, at least at that point. He did vow that one day he would leave this group and find his own path, but not yet for he still had a lot to learn from his mentor.

That day came a little sooner than he expected. His group of merry robbers had come across nothing less than a fat juicy piece of meat that was all too tempting to rob. They had set up a plan, as usual, to ambush the caravan. Everything seemed to be in order, but as soon as the caravan came into sight, he knew something was terribly wrong. The banner that flew above the lead carriage was none other than a scorpion’s tail. Fear ran through his heart, for the first time he was frozen in terror. He tried to call out to his “companions” to tell them to stop, but it was all too late.

The ambush couldn’t have gone any more wrong. His friends were cut down one by one as they attacked what seemed like men with the power of demons. Coming out of the middle carriage was the man he knew had bought him so long ago. Apparently he took no more risks while traveling.

He didn’t know how long he ran, but he knew that the sun had fell and risen once again, and fallen once more. Exhausted he collapsed in the shade of a nearby boulder. Waking up to the morning heat and the feeling of sand being blown onto him by the un-abating winds. Sitting up he looked around to find himself in some sort of chasm. He had no idea where he was, or how exactly he got there, but knew in his heart that his companions had all been slain. Tearing off his armor, he looked down upon the scorpion’s tail that cast a menacing shadow across his arm. In a fit of rage, he moved over to the closest rock exposed to the Sun’s fury and broke off a piece. Picking the piece up sent waves of pain through his hand as it seared the flesh. Slamming the rock down upon the tattoo he let out a roar of pain.

Throwing the rock away he looked down upon his hand and shoulder he saw the flesh melted and bloody. Almost collapsing he struggled to move down into the chasm depths once again. Falling to his knees, he drew upon the forces within himself and cast healing magic upon himself right before passing out.

He lived in the chasm for a few weeks, gathering his thoughts and getting himself in order before deciding to move out, plus he had no idea which way to go. It had taken him a few days of introspection, but the final reason he decided to leave his little getaway was to atone. He had robbed and attacked innocent people for far too long. He had been able to convince himself that it was the best course of action at the time, and used the excuse of learning the power of the Air to stay without question.

Turning south he headed out. Traveling at night, and using his spiritual powers to create food and water for himself he was able to stay in fit shape through his long journey. It only took three days of walking to reach a town. It wasn’t a large one, but one that seemed to act as a way station between others. Walking into the tavern hoping for a room that he could sleep in, and maybe a place to take a bath, he saw the place was jammed packed. He noticed a few people giving him a strange eye, but they kept to themselves. For once, he was truly glad of his size, not many people would pick on one as big and strong as he was, at least not intelligent ones.

Heading over to the bartender, he slumped down exhausted. The human moved over, and asked what he could get for him, although his tone had a slight hesitation to it. Merely asking for water, he placed coins upon the bar. After finishing his drink he asked for a room, which he was promptly given. Heading up stairs, he shrugged off his armor and laid it on the floor of his room. Taking off his shirt, he unconsciously rubbed the scar on his arm. He hadn’t even had time to sit down when his door was pushed open. Had he forgotten to lock it? He couldn’t remember, but two people now stood in front of him. Both with weapons in hand, they moved into the room.

The man with the warhammer, merely said “What’s your name Mul.”

The name came out without a pause. He had never thought about it before, but at the moment it seemed the right and honorable thing to do. “Jo’lith.”

The smaller of the two, the one in the back, told the one in front that Jo’lith was not on the list of missing Muls. The one with the warhammer merely shrugged and said that was too bad, but that it would be a waste not to take advantage of finding such a healthy and fit Mul to take in.

The front one advanced to attack, but Jo’lith was too quick for him. Thrusting his hand forward, he let out a burst of sound that shook the building. Taking the opportunity of his stunned opponents, he picked up his breastplate and slammed it into the head of the closest one knocking him down, bleeding from the head. The other man, shrunk back into the hall a scared look on his face. Jo’lith merely said one word, run. The man darted away and out of sight.

Looking down at the injured man, remorse flooded him. This was the life he was trying to escape. The life of hurting people for no reason, for no greater cause. Grabbing the weapon and throwing it into a corner of the room, he placed his hands upon the back of the man, and let his healing power flow into him. The man, waking up with a start, looked up at Jo’lith as he said, leave her now and please do not bother me again.

Even though he knew he had every right to knock the man out, he felt truly relieved that he was able to use his powers to heal the man and let him go. It felt for once that he was on the right path to atonement.