EQR – Characters

Big Rick – Game Master

bigrickGMRichard aka “Big Rick” has been playing table top games since a kid in the 70’s, introduced to Dungeons and Dragons by his older cousin, who needed a fill in player for him and his friends campaign in the early 80’s (One could say it was 1983 but hey I have heard “Stranger Things”) Finding a joy for the game and soon becoming a dungeon master for his friends, Big Rick took to playing many RPG’s (I don’t think there are many I haven’t played, I mean I played Justifiers.)

He always returns to his true fandom and that is the D20 based D&D type games.  Now as we all know Pathfinder is the open license supplement that stayed after D&D 3.5 moved on to 4th Ed. And we are glad that it did because Pathfinder is AWESOME!  (I have always enjoyed the Pathfinder system, and look forward to bringing some colorful adventures and characters to life for not only our players, but also our viewers as well.)

So as the Game Master (GM) for the EPIC QUESTS RPG featuring Paizo’s Pathfinder we all look forward to what Grand Adventures await!

Adamas – Qinggong Hungry Ghost Monk


cheungpicFreak. Accursed abomination. Demon-spawn. Those are some of the names that they used to call me. A being grey of flesh and red of eye. Scalp bristling with short, jagged spikes. Body covered with patches of sharp, glossy black scales. What a monster I must have been to them!

On good days, I was willfully ignored. On bad days, my mother would crawl home bruised and bleeding from the stones they would throw. The entire town shunned her as a witch. I was her cross to bear – the twisted offspring of a wretched woman who so obviously lay with devils. My father left after I was born, unable to love the ‘twisted perversion’ that was his child or the woman who birthed it. Despite these tests, my mother kept her faith. She would pray each night that the villagers would see that I was an innocent, as any other child. I would lie awake and pray to be anything other than myself. I wanted to spare her the wrath of their superstitious ignorance. I had begged her to leave many times, but she always answered the same way: “But this is our home.” The breath of those words, still warm on her lips, as she died on our doorstep. She had paid for my life with her own, the result of years of escalating violence perpetuated by the superstitious ignorance of her fellow villagers.

I was nine when I ran that night, my fear keeping me safe, anger keeping me warm. Hate driving me out of the villages and away from people. I followed the river out of town and into the foothills. I chased a family of foxes from a small cave, claiming it as my new home. There was a grove of trees nearby that gave me fruit and nuts to stave off physical needs, but as for my mind? My mind was lost in a sea of darkness. For weeks, my days were spent alternating between bouts of sadness and fits of destructive anger with nothing to sate it. The world had taken the one person who did not think me some malformed cursed wretch. I did not know what I was, but sometimes wished I were a demon, as so many claimed me to be. That way, I could take revenge on those heinous people for the way they had treated my mother and me.

A black mood overtook me one day, and I vented my frustrations by battering one of the fruit trees with my fists, screaming my hatred to the world. When I had spent my rage abusing the innocent tree, I turned so as to walk back to my cave, and there he was.

I hadn’t heard him approach. He wore a slightly confused look as we stared at each other. He was old, that much was evident. Ancient. He did not seem frail as the elders in the village had been. Expecting violence from this stranger, I panicked and ran. I did not come out of the back of my cave for two days. I sat there waiting for an angry mob to come and chase me away, or worse. On the third day after the meeting, I crept out to find a small basket of apples and a note. The note read, “I apologize if the apples from that particular tree were not to your liking. The trees on the other side of the grove get better light, so the fruit is much sweeter.”

Confused by the gesture, I slowly made my way back towards the grove. There, I found the old man with his hands pressed against the tree I had damaged. His eyes were closed in deep concentration. I stared in awe as the torn, gnarled bark grew back together, straight and whole. Without turning, the old man asked if I had, “come back to finish the job?” Then he laughed, and it was a melodic, hearty sound, so different than what I was used to. Laughter in its purest form, without a mocking edge to it. He came towards me slowly, and I froze at his approach. He gently took my bruised hands in his old, leathery ones and closed his eyes again. I started at this unexpected contact and realization that this old man was not afraid of me! As warmth flowed into me, I watched my damaged flesh become smooth and grey again. He opened his eyes, slowly, and said, “Hate is a poisonous energy that devours the soul. How can one so young be so burdened?” I was shocked into silence, unsure of how to respond. Overwhelmed by all of my pent up hatred and sadness and confused by the kindness of this stranger, a strangled sob burst out of me followed by a river of tears.

I could see the sympathy in the old man’s eyes. It was a look I had only ever seen from my mother. I was overcome by this stranger’s compassion, so I relayed my story to him in the gaps between wracking sobs and hot tears, unaware of how desperately I needed to confide in another. When I had finished, he smiled and reassured me that no, I was most certainly not a demon. He said that one of my ancestors had simply been a ‘being of the earth’. I did not understand. The old man stood and gestured for me to follow him. “Come,” he said, “and I will help you to find yourself.”

I followed him in silence, ready to run at any hint of danger. As we walked, my mind was steeped in questions: Who was this man? Why was he being kind to me? After a short while, the well-worn path we followed opened to reveal a flight of stairs cut into the side of the hill itself. The stairs stretched up and away, seeming to go on forever in endless switchbacks. “Come along, my young friend. It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.” Soon, it was apparent that the old man was not as old as he looked, as he was quickly leaving me behind. After what felt like an eternity to my young, short legs, out of breath and fiercely sucking wind, I reached the top. The old man stood by a massive door marked with a large, open palmed hand, set into a very tall wall. He smiled as he effortlessly pushed open the huge door and said, “Welcome to the Shrine of the Blessed Rock. Here the disciples of Irori, the Master of Masters, journey down the endless path towards self-perfection.”

As we walked through the yard, passing monks would stop and bow to the old man. Everywhere I looked, people working themselves to the limit. A large number of students were being led through a series of movements that looked like a complex and graceful kind of dancing. I noted that the one leading the exercise had dark grey skin, with pale green crystals where his hair should have been. I watched in awe as he corrected one of his learners. The young student paid rapt attention to his words and bowed respectfully when the teacher had finished. This man was like me, and they seemed to respect him! A gentle cough got my attention, and the old man gestured towards the large main structure and said, “Would you care for some tea?” Inside the temple were still more disciples, tending a gigantic library with more books than I thought could have ever been written. No one was idle. Everyone had a place and a purpose, even the ‘malformed’ ones. I started to think that I had maybe found a place where I might finally belong.

We reached a large garden at the center of the temple building. In the middle was a large, flat stone bearing the same kind of handprint as the marking on the gate. “That is where the temple gets its name. It is said that the Master placed that rock there Himself.” There was a small table in the shade of a large cherry tree where the old man gestured for me to sit as he sent a young disciple to fetch the tea. When he had settled himself opposite me he said, “You are welcome to stay here. I can see that you are not yet consumed by your hate. I would help you heal and find your path, if you wish.” He held up his hand, forestalling any answer and said, “Know this first – this will require great effort and sacrifice on your part. I will do all I can to guide you, but only you can walk your path. Go among the disciples. Speak to them. Learn of our ways. Think on your answer carefully.” The young boy returned and poured each of us a hot cup of strong, dark tea. “Nothing is more terrible than action without insight. There is always time to think,” he smiled as he sipped his tea.

I spent the next week watching from afar as the disciples went about their routines. The mornings were filled with martial training, the afternoons with meditation and reading. The older students would separate into specialized groups. Some were seeking perfection through knowledge and would spend endless hours poring over the many tomes in the temple library. Others would pursue perfection through physical exertion, and I watched them perform seemingly impossible acts of strength, balance, and speed that left me in awe of their raw capability. And some sought perfection through deep meditation. These monks would gather, manipulate, and focus invisible energies to accomplish wondrous things, healing or destroying with a simple touch.

No matter the differences in size, appearance, or background, each member of this mixed tribe lived in harmony with the others. Philosophical debates were often lively, but never ended in anger. There was a general feeling of peace on the temple grounds, and it spoke to me. I sought out the old man and found him seated at the same table in the garden. “Have you reached a conclusion, young one?” In response, I mimicked what I had seen the others do, and I bowed to the old man and said, “Master, I wish to stay.”

That was more than eighty years ago. The tomes in the great library were most illuminating about my heritage. We are called Oread, those with forbears who have blood from the elemental earth. It took some time, but I learned how to let go of those negative emotions that flooded my young heart. With the guidance of the old man, I learned to seek harmony. I learned that in all things, there is a balance of positive and negative energies. When the balance is broken, the universe attempts to right itself. In order to balance my own energies, I must atone for the dark thoughts of my youth. I must forgive those that have wronged me. In the words of the old man, “A good example is the best sermon.”

A wise man once said, ‘You must see with eyes unclouded by hate. See the good in that which is evil, and the evil in that which is good. Pledge yourself to neither side, but vow instead to preserve the balance that exists between the two.’ It is with this message in my heart that I set out to rejoin the world.

Things to know about Adamas
– He is short and much heavier than he looks.
– The small scales of his youth have become patches of crystalline obsidian.
– Due to years of meditation, he tends to be on the quiet side.
– When he does speak, it is often a wise quote.
– He does not care for cities or towns.
– He will give enemies a chance to surrender.
– He will try to incapacitate rather than kill.

Character played by Chris Cheung

Aron Styrkr – Soul Sentinel Paladin


hoodjoshAron Styrkr pronounced (Air-Ron Steer-KER) meaning “enlightened strength” was born in the very small town of Urorheim far beyond the borders of the towns of North Haven and South Haven.

Raised by his mother Varina never knowing who his father was or what happened to him. They lived in a small domicile along the market streets of Urorheim immersed in the busy bazaar and commerce. As a child he would sell small trinkets made from scraps the blacksmiths would give him in exchange for fresh breads his mother would bake. These trinkets also seemed to have a profound effect on those who purchased them, like a warm wave of peace had washed over them. Some called it hogwash and silly while others thought there had to be more to this.
He has always found ways to help the unfortunate and felt himself drawn to those in need, an uncontrollable urge that he cannot stop nor explain. He noticed very quickly that not only did he feel the need to help, he ALWAYS found himself wandering smack in the middle of a situation that needed his assistance, almost like he was drawn there without knowing.

His village though small, is full and diverse. Aron learned much from the Urorheim people. Anything they could teach him he would steep himself in. Often the town’s people would find him off in the farmlands practicing what was taught to him, or just meditating.

He grew strong as a young adult learning new skills in blacksmithing, the ancient arts of fighting, and swordplay. Mastering his craft swiftly without difficulty knowing this was his calling. Though he has devoted his life and course to help people, he often hears “dark whispers” beckoning him to change his course. Tortured by these whispers he resorts to meditative state once he hears them. Sometimes awakening to complete destruction. The damned call to him, their souls in his hands.

Things to know about Aron Styrkr:

– He is a gentle soul with the intimidating physique of a warrior standing 6’ 8” with 300lbs of solid muscle.

– His hand on a shoulder often brings calmness to an out of control situation.

– Although he is calm, those “dark whispers” can set him off.

– His instincts are unparalleled when it comes to knowing where the evil lurks.

– He is 21 years old, with an accidental charm that ladies find irresistible.

– Believes that alcohol provides clarity to any situation.

– A blacksmith of the highest level.

– Named his sword Varine (after his mother Varina)

– His mother will never speak of his father, when he asks her she tells him only that “When the time is right, you will know”

– Learned to bake from his mother, but can never get a recipe right.

He has now set a course for South Haven, again… NOT knowing why…

Character played by Josh Geppi


Xivari Bloodsbane – Blight Druid Tiefling


ChloeXivariXivari Bloodsbane ,a blight Druid Tiefling , was raised in the ravaged land of Unthor by the bloodsplot clan. A proud clan of tieflings, the bloodsplot were known for their blight magic and dark history.

In the distant past, it is said that the bloodspot clan were the “Originals” who initiated the ritual which created tieflings . Long ago , there was a tribe of Druidic humans who lived In a land constantly at war. In an effort to insure their survival in time of war, the bloodspot clan convinced druid elders to perform a demonic Ceremony to make their tribe fierce and strong. But it came with a price , the elders made deals with the demonic gods , and they were forever changed . The gods made them strong , powerful ,and gave them the ability to control the ravaged lands with blight magic . But the tribe was transformed, or mutated you can say . Turned shades of red, given horns, tails and made to look demonic , thus they were no longer human and they promised to worship the dark gods in return .The tieflings rose to power in Unthor , quickly consuming and controlling the ravaged lands . But they were shunned by the human realm , regarded as evil and no longer human.
The bloodspot clan is seen in two lights ; hailed as the creators and saviors of tieflings; or as the ones who demented and mutated the bloodline , ending their human ties. Thus it did not take long for the bloodspots to recoil from those who deemed them shameful , and hide themselves away.

But that was long ago , and Xivari grew up in a very different time . Now, there were many tiefling groups spread throughout the continent , but none were strong enough to hold lands like in the old days . Her tribe was small , lack luster , and considered barbaric . They chose not to modernize and stay the old path like they had promised the dark lords long ago. But something had happened to her clan, and along the way the blight magic promised to them was not as strong . It skipped generations , or did not appear at all in some families . Thus leaving a small percentage of the offspring to actually wield magic . She was one of those lucky few to have been blessed by the dark lords. Trained by the few elders who could still control blight magic , she grew and learned to control the ravaged lands and beasts.

In her 25th year of life , the elders had a vision for the first time in hundreds of years. They saw a far off land ravaged by gods, torn in half , and controlled by chaos . It was this vision that made the elders send out one of their blight children to the outside world. Chosen as the strongest blight Druid, Xavari was sent on her way to investigate what the gods were trying to tell them.

And thus her travels for knowledge begin…

Character played by Chloe Ey

Meren – Mooncursed Barbarian


mattvosspicMy name is Meren, I am a free man, bound by no law. My people are the Routh-Dok (Pronounce Roast Duck with a lisp, and you’ve got it), The People of the Shifting Sands. We live life far from South Haven, surviving on the oases provided by the desert. We range deep into the sands for artifacts of ancient peoples to sell to passing traders and for the small delicious creatures that live beneath the sands. The Rage lives within us all, and when we become men and women of the Routh-Dok we sell our services as vicious warriors; unstoppable by the gravest of wounds.

We become free men and women of The People when The Rage first visits us. Until then, we are considered children, no matter our age. It is not strange for The Rage to visit a few of each generation earlier than usual, depending on circumstance, one may experience an event that triggers it like a raid, or coming across one of the larger desert beasts. Among my people, I am the youngest known to have experienced The Rage.

I was 14 seasons when The Rage first took me. Among the Routh-Dok, testing one another’s strength is important to our survival. The youngest pick at each other like a pack of desert foxes trying to find out who will be the leader. One child constantly sought me out for humiliation, for even among my people I am tall, and this made me a target for others to prove their strength. After many such experiences I had had enough and lashed out with my fists. What started was my first Rage. It was different from all Rages before. When I entered my Rage, I shed my shape and became a desert tiger. I leapt at my tormentor and tried to tear out his throat with my teeth. It took 5 of The People to pull me off of her.

A Sit was called, all members of The People within the sound of our horns were called to weigh judgement on my soul. I was terrified. I felt my death was certain. After many hours of discussion and arguments and several instances where anger turned to fighting, The People made a decision. While there was legend of our people turning to beast in our distant past, with even one or two legendary heroes being beast changers, The People decided they wanted no part of whatever had befallen me. I was banished from the oases, told to travel until I couldn’t feel the heat of the desert or hear the grains of sand on the winds.

That was 2 seasons ago. Now I find myself here in Haven, able to control my Rage, and having found a new name for it. I am Mooncursed. I am a warrior born, and I will summon the tiger within whenever I need it. Banished from the people, I will return. I will go back as a legend, and I will tell them of this different Rage and how it could make all The People stronger.

Things to know about Meren:
• He is young…16 and struggling with being alone in a larger
world than he anticipated.

• Meren is a Mooncursed Barbarian, this means that during his rage he becomes a medium sized Desert Tiger

• He is not fully comfortable with his own body, at 6’5 and 215lbs, Meren is still an awkward teenager. (maybe this could lead to some hilarity with reflex saves or critical misses?)

• He considers himself the equal of anyone he meets in the
larger world, in terms of expected to be treated as an Adult of any other race. This has caused him problems over the past 2 years.

• He knows how to use his stature to intimidate when he needs to.

• He struggles with being the stoic example of The People and being an excitable young man, experiencing many things for the first time.

• Everything he does largely comes from a place of inexperience, while he can bluff and intimidate people, he lacks the world experience to be overly manipulative and could be taken advantage of.

• He’s had to survive on his own for 2 years and has travelled very far in the time, alone. He can take care of himself and has developed some street smarts in that time. He trusts his gut and responds or judges on instinct and first impressions.

• Meren has extremely little experience with women, among The People men and women are equals, and modesty isn’t an issue, however he still gets awkward around beautiful women.

• Meren is 6’5, with brown hair and green eyes. He is still maturing and has young features, upon seeing his face it is obvious he isn’t as old as he can appear to be if he has a hood or is seen from behind.

Character played by Matt Voss

Glendrick Mordechai Coco – Halfling Thief


kurtpicGlendrick Mordechai Coco is your typical outgoing Halfling that came from very humble beginnings. Abandoned as a child on the streets of Yuusmere and put into an orphanage dedicated to the god Iomedae, Glendrick was subject to some of the most ruthless caregivers in the city. Zealots that demanded order and discipline that absolutely did not sit well with the young halflings wild streak and general curiosity with all things.

At the age of ten Glendrick escaped the orphanage and took to the streets where he discovered his new god, Money! With it he can acquire whatever his heart desires, without it he may starve to death. The only skills he had was being small and quick. So he began to just take things…

He began small with his life of thievery, stealing food from carts or pies from windowsills but it wasn’t long before he was discovered by the local Thieves Guild and put into service.

Glendrick flourished there and was treated like an equal among the other thieves. It was there that he honed his craft and soon became one of the guilds best cutpurses and break-in guys. These things came easy to him because people his size are often overlooked and thought of as lesser.

Eventually the Thieves Guild turned to more sinister activities and Glendrick reluctantly left and hit the open road with many sights to see and coin to be made. Eventually he found his way to the city of Mollmere and went right to work but quickly went foul of the heavier law enforcement and decided to leave the city with a band of adventurers posing as one himself.

The intention of abandoning the adventurers at the first chance proved more difficult than anticipated and after a while, became friends and companions. While the life of an adventurer is more dangerous than he thought his career would be, the rewards and sense of accomplishment soon won him over!

Now he and his compatriots are on their way to South Haven to hopefully fill their coffers and make some great fireside stories!

Perpetually Cheerful
Very Charismatic
Drunken Story-teller
Bit of a Kleptomaniac
Loves a good Alternate Persona
User of Big Words (Incorrectly most of the time)
Pot-Stirrer/Trouble Maker
Fast Talker and Consummate Deceiver
Loyal to his Friends
Loves a Good Pipe

17 Years Old
3ft Tall… Short… Whatever
Messy Dirty Blonde Hair & Striking Blue Eyes

Character played by Kurt Pierson

Halwynn – Half Elf Slayer


sarahpicMy name is Halwynn, and yes if you were curious, that’s a boy’s name. I didn’t find that out until I left my village. I am half elf, but was raised by my human father who didn’t know any better so here we are. I grew up in Kuoppa, a fishing village on the coast shrouded by dense forest most travelers opted not to contend with. I knew that forest like the back of my hand. My father, a skilled hunter taught me everything I know. At a young age I could slip through the woods undetected and was a natural with a bow.

The other children had mostly kept their distance from me when I was younger but as I grew up they came around, it was always funny to hear tell of the theories behind how I had ended up there as a baby, a story I didn’t know myself for a time, my father never married and never spoke of my mother. We were by no means wealthy, no one in the village was so I hardly knew the difference. It was a good life, I was for the most part content, and naturally as I aged so did my father. In his last year he told me of my mother, how he loved her and how she would not be allowed to keep a halfblooded child, he didn’t say much else, I know that her name was Elyra, we have the same eye color, and the last time he saw her was the night she gave me to him in the wood. The village was fragile and on the brink of becoming a ghost town, most of the children before me had left and I dreamt of following suit, the tiny town and twisting forest were not enough anymore, I had an insatiable curiosity about the world outside of it with only my father’s stories to go off of, I often prodded and joked with him about him coming with me, how we could leave the village together.

Overtime the forest I had once loved as a child became a haven for thieves. The outside worlds and things I did not know of began to seep through what were once the tight seems of my small village. It happened one day as the sun was just setting I was dragging back my kill, my father walking far ahead of me unencumbered. I heard muffled voices in the distance, we were too deep in the wood for it to be our village and none of them dared venture this far, as I heard them drawing closer I tried to signal my father but he did not hear… I tried again, our normal bird call, dropping my kill and scaling a tree to try to gain a vantage point and again his ears failed him. He did not hear them coming until it was too late, they were right upon him before he knew what was happening and a group of bandits took his life. My once very peaceful world spun wildly in my head, unable to control my alarm I let out a scream and all I saw was red. I drew an arrow from my quiver aiming to kill, and that’s what I did. They were too far from me to defend themselves against a ranged attack and for the first time in my life I took the life of another person.

I knew without him there was no longer a place for me in Kuoppa, after his burial I set out and didn’t look back. It took me a while to gain my footing, I had no idea how big the world was or how bad it could be. I sold pelts when I happened upon other travelers and villages, foraged for food, and when the opportunity presented itself in a larger city I threw myself at the opportunity to serve a sell sword for the first time, feeling confident after having had some unfortunate run ins on my travels to find that I was quite good at defending myself. And now here I find myself just a few years later, hardened by my travels in the company of new friends on our way to South Haven, having heard many stories but having met no one that seems to know the truth.

Character played by Sarah Richelle

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