<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/puhJmim.jpg)(https://i.imgur.com/A6LCTWV.jpg)</div>TAKLOSI DELOTH<br/>Race: Tiefling<br/>Sex: Female.<br/>Class (Suspected): Fighter/Paladin<br/>Her devotion to Gorum is apparent in this Tiefling's devotion to her armor, her martial discipline, her pride. and she is never, EVER hesitant to impart some aspect of that sense of battle.  She was legendary, leading batallions, surviving the impossible, slaying monsters from nightmare... but the tales of her heroism are scattered like seeds in the countryside, as are tales of horrors, war crimes, and slaughter without discretion.<br/>The ends always justify the means.  She is perpetually angry, terrifyingly so, and seems to relish the glory of it as much as the sheer agony of exertion.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">  (https://i.imgur.com/dDzbfgM.jpg)</div>KAZ'ZIK KUN:<br/>Race: Drow Elf<br/>Sex: Male<br/>Class (Suspected): Rogue/Bard<br/>Folk tales are still spoken of this one, rumoring that he still hordes a massive collection of wondrous items.  Some say he ran a city from the shadows, courted a dragon, and caused the downfall of the greatest city man has ever seen-- all long before any living human was born.  As ageless as he appears, he is surprisingly vain and agonizingly sarcastic, despite his occasional willingness to impart his expertise in manipulation, stealth, archery, close combat, and perhaps more... for a price.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/8sbuskk.jpg)  </div>VARIUS MORALOTH:<br/>Race: Ostensibly human<br/>Sex: Male<br/>Class (Suspected): Sorcerer/Alchemist/Gods Save Us<br/>There is no limit to what this man can build... yes, a man, whose simple emerged one day, perhaps from another plane, perhaps another time.  Wondrous machines, all manner of magics, mutagens, extraordinary crafted items-- his eyes see the workings from all, and his hands create what no other can fathom like a child shaping sand.  But the man-- he cares for nothing.  He is like a machine himself, unfeeling, uncaring, knowing all and caring for none of it.  His aid in The Undead War was unreliable, and he has since become aloof to the most extreme-- as if he hears and sees only what he wishes, and he cares for nothing.<br/><br/>HISTORY:<br/>The great city of Fallows Harbor was once a glorious port on the Maiestas River.  Thriving on rich soil and indentured servitude, this city supplied the hemisphere with fine goods and was rewarded with heavy profits, became a catalyst of art, architecture, and culture-- as well as crime, hedonism, and experimental religion-- before the Undead War.  Heralded by wars, and followed by plagues, pestilence, famines, economic collapse, and volcanic unrest that caused a two-year winter, the great nations were estimated to have fallen to 4 of 10 of their original populations within two generations.  Then, those that died began to rise... and there were many.<br/><br/>Perhaps spurring the great deaths, or perhaps because of it, the Undead Lords rose in the west, east and south, and began their campaigns of the eradication and enslavement of all life on Golarion.  The gods themselves fought to preserve their creation, and the gods began to suffer casualties in their infighting and their interference.  All told, the war lasted over almost fifty years, and the undead lords ceased their campaign... were they destroyed, trapped, or persuaded to postpone the apocalypse...? No news has traveled in the old ways, though trade ships have, again, begun to sail and explore-- sometimes bringing goods, sometimes plunderers, but these are dark times.<br/><br/>You were raised in the remnants of this city--  you have seen the undead, wild monsters, untended traps, ruins, and you all know someone who has died at their hands.  Ruins dominate the once-proud landscape, and what little life there is huddles from the shadows in the harbor district, or in defensible plantation-clusters where defense and, to some degree, community is shared.  The market square bustles with life some times, when the sun mercifully shines-- or rather blisters the inhabitants of the city with blazing swamp-fed heat, mosquitoes, and persistent flocks of scavenger birds.<br/><br/>RAVENHURST ESTATE:<br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/XOQMwla.jpg)</div>Couriers found you, and you received something unfamiliar... a letter.  Education still exists in this world, but with your life of toil, there is little time to study formalities such as this, and seeing your name in a stranger's formal hand is an odd thing indeed.  The contents are clear enough; you are summoned to the Ravenhurst Estate in the Garden District for training.  For this, your family is offered compensation for the time you will be away... ten gold coins per calendar month (a truly astounding sum!) for the honor of your service to the city's reforming Adventurer's Guild.  It outlines that you have been selected for the promise you show, and that you will join other recruits from the city to train, learn, and conduct vital missions to reestablish the city's trove of wealth and power.<br/><br/>Others, before you, have received this invitation.  None have returned, but the coin is still delivered.  Letters like it come, but from the recruits themselves... assuring families that all is well, that they are learning much, that they cannot discuss details but are doing their best to help the city rebuild.  Could this be your chance... the chance to leave the broken streets, your leaky roof, your home that rattles with the wind..? The job at the fish market, or hacking at fields, or slavery if that was your lot in life?  Is this your chance at greatness?<br/><br/>There is a time, a gathering place.  You feel a tug at your heart, knowing that you have little choice.  Those you love will be better provided-for than ever you could manage else, and who knows... maybe this is your destiny..?