Pan Oros
From Loranon
| Player Character | |
|---|---|
| Pan Oros | |
| |
| Player | Tim Ward |
| Affiliations | PC Party |
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Description
Middle aged, weak, and with a bit of a paunch, Pan has blue eyes and brown hair.
Background
Pan Oros lacks discipline.
Growing up in the magic-laden town of Boccorit, he had always dreamed of becoming a wizard. It wasn’t the hours of study or the voluminous knowledge of the wizards that drew him, though, but the power to change the world with a flick of the wrist and a few incoherent mutterings. The ability of such frail beings to topple mountains and boil seas was an intoxicating brew.
His mother and father were both wizards, and it was assumed that he would follow in their footsteps. He was groomed from a young age in the ways of magic, but try as they might, his parents could never seem to instill the necessary strength of will in their son. He was talented enough, but reckless; fiercely intelligent, but, as is the case for most young men, lacking in wisdom.
Experience is a harsh mistress.
In his early, formative years, he was able to get by on his wits alone. As all the other students learned the good studying habits that would take them far as wizards, Pan would daydream about fighting Bluespawn Godslayers or tossing fireballs into a crowd of orcs. He seemed to relish in rubbing his natural talent in the faces of the other students.
By the time he was a young adult, Pan was absolutely sick of the lectures from his tutors about wasted talent. He still couldn’t be bothered to study, but it became more difficult to ad lib his way through his classes. Somehow, he just knew that everything would work out all right in the end. As intelligent as he was, how could it not?
Sadly, Pan was wrong. When it was time to become an apprentice, he learned he’d made some critical mistakes. No one would take him on. He had the raw talent for wizardry, but having avoided learning even basic meditation or studying skills, he was completely unfit for a scholarly life. After a year of applying to various schools and independent mages, Pan finally gave up. His dream of being a wizard was dead.
Despondent, Pan started picking up odd jobs around town. He was clever enough to tinker with little things, make things work, but the jobs were not fulfilling. Every night he would come home weary, frustrated, disgusted with the way things turned out. Things needed to change or he knew he would wither up and die.
Pan decided to strike out on his own and see the region. He started to wander from town to town, offering his skills as a tinker as trade for food or a good night's sleep. Somehow, despite the menial tasks presented him, he was able to put on a good face for those he met, and made friends in every town he visited.
Still, he longed for more. For magic. For power!
One night as he slept next to a campfire on the side of the road, Pan felt a tickle on his chest. He stirred slightly, and the tickle only intensified. Pan blearily opened his eyes, acknowledged what appeared to be a small scorpion, realized he must be dreaming, and went back to sleep. After a minute, the tickle started again, more insistently. Pan's eyes shot open with the realization that he was not dreaming. He jumped to his feet and did the ever-awkward "I've got a scorpion on me! Get it off get it off get it off get it off get it off get it off!" dance.
The scorpion grew tired of this silliness after a few minutes, and then surprised them both by sighing and saying "Are you quite finished?"
Pan stopped, confused. "You can talk?"
The scorpion thought about this for a minute, before replying "Wait, YOU can talk?"
Their mutual confusion went on for a few minutes until the scorpion, once again tired of waiting for Pan to catch on to the reality of the situation, stung him soundly on the chest. Not possessing the firmest of constitutions, Pan immediately passed out from the pain.
Pan awoke in a daze a few hours later, his chest throbbing. The first thing he noticed was a scorpion sitting on his face, trying to look him in the eye. He was about to scream when the scorpion wiggled its tail menacingly indicating this might not be the best idea.
"Ok, we got off to a bad start," said the scorpion, "I realize now that you might not be the shiniest tool in the shed, so let me try and explain things to you. Apparently, both of us can talk. I'm sure this is as much a surprise to you as it is to me. Anyway, I've been sent here by my patron to tell you that power is not out of your reach. Come with me and accept him as your patron as well, and the mysteries of the universe will be revealed to you."
"What, all of them?" snarked Pan, recovering some of his composure.
The scorpion contemplated stinging him again, perhaps on the face this time, then decided that would just waste too much time with the screaming and the fainting and the waiting around for this idiot to open his eyes again. "Look, are you going to come with me or not?"
"Sure, fine, I'll follow the talking bug off into the forest on a promise of power and that the mysteries of the universe will be revealed," Pan shot back, slowly realizing that he was serious. The scorpion waited for Pan to climb to his feet, then climbed up on his shoulder and guided him into the woods.
For the next three days they traveled, stopping only to eat and sleep, deeper and deeper into the forest. Near dusk on the third day, the scorpion led Pan into a clearing. Several scruffy looking humans and elves were building a large pyre in the center. About 10 feet back from the pyre was a log on its side, conveniently like a bench. The scorpion prodded Pan to have a seat and wait.
The scruffy looking group, who on closer inspection appeared to be druids, finished building the pyre, set it alight, then filed out of the clearing. Pan waited, watching the flames, wondering just what he was doing out here in the middle of nowhere next to a large fire. The sun slowly set and the moon came out, though he could barely see the stars past the light of the fire in front of him.
Around what must have been 1 in the morning, 3 corpse-thin women covered in rags and fetishes appeared at the edges of the clearing and walked to the center, creating a circle around the fire. Never even acknowledging his existence, they began chanting rhythmically in a language he could not identify and throwing offerings and trinkets into the fire. The fire grew taller, so intense it was almost burning Pan's face from his spot on the log. He raised his hand to shield his eyes as it gained a magical intensity.
After a few more minutes, the chant hit a crescendo and the fire whooshed out suddenly, smoke filling the clearing. A fiery being appeared above the ruins of the pyre, too bright to make out clearly.
"Minos, you have done well!" the being said, looking at the scorpion. The scorpion did its best to bow in return.
The being turned to look at Pan. Somehow he could feel it looking straight into his soul. "Pan Oros!" the being seemed to bellow, "I have summoned you here because I know you long for power! You have failed in the ways of men, but all is not lost. You can still be salvaged to serve my purposes. Join my coven this night, accept me as your patron, and I will grant you the power you so desire."
Awestruck, it took Pan some time to answer. "I will do as you ask. But please, tell me your name?"
The being laughed a deep, not quite menacing laugh, and disappeared. Even as the laugh echoed off the trees, the hags moved to join Pan, bringing him into the circle and beginning a ritual that seemed right, though he did not fully understand it.
Pan awoke around noon with a pounding headache and a new sensation...a sensation of power. The hags were gone, but the scorpion, apparently called Minos, remained.
"Well, I guess I'm stuck with you," said Minos, "Hurry up then, we'd best head back to civilization before you get eaten by a bear or something."
And with that, they set off toward town and greater things.
The campaign finds Pan older and somewhat wiser. He has grown accustomed to the gifts unlocked by his mysterious patron. He is still left with more questions than answers. He'd like to learn the identity of his patron. Minos, a stalwart companion, has been unable to shed more light on his patron's intentions or identity even as he helps him grow in power.
Pan is also curious to learn more about the coven he has joined. He has not met any of the members again since the fateful night of his inception, nor has he received any directives from his mysterious patron.
Pan has done his best to focus on friends and avoid making enemies, though he is not well liked by all in his home town of Boccorit. The wizards there dislike his odd, unearned powers. Apparently ManWitch is an acquired taste. He does have one close friend in Boccorit, Tom Moserly, the town baker. They grew up next door to each other. His parents, Jan and Stan Oros, also live in Boccorit as wizards. They are not as harsh on him as the other wizards in the community.
Statblock (full sheet)
Pan Oros the White
humanoid
Init +7; Senses Perception +16
DEFENSE
AC 25, touch 14, flat-footed 22
hp 111 (14 HD)
Fort +12, Ref +12, Will +15
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft.
Melee
Ranged
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 11,
Dex 17,
Con 16,
Int 29,
Wis 12,
Cha 8
Base Atk +7/+2; CMB +7/+2; CMD 21
Feats
Skills Craft (Alchemy) +22, Heal +17, Intimidate +17, Knowledge (arcana) +25, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +22, Knowledge (history) +25, Knowledge (local) +22, Knowledge (nature) +25, Knowledge (planes) +25, Knowledge (religion) +22, Perception +16, Spellcraft +25
Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, Ignan, Sylvan, Undercommon
