Hobby Abomination Vaults

[Magonia]

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Kaelen's Backstory​

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In the bleak expanse where the Veilspire Mountains pierce a sky bereft of stars, Kaelen was born under a crimson moon, its light staining the frostlike blood. His eyes, sharp against his white-tanned skin, marked him as something apart—a child of omen, whispered by the Duskwind Clan to be kissed by forces beyond mortal ken. Raised in mist-shrouded valleys where twisted pines clawed at the heavens, Kaelen learned to hunt before he could dream, his senses sharpened bya land that devoured the careless. His human parents—Torren, a grizzled warrior, and Maevra, a herbalist with a survivor’s grit—taught him the blade’s discipline and the wild’s mercy ,but they could not shield him from the shadows that seemed to follow his steps.


At fourteen, Kaelen’s life changed with the arrival of Jian-Zhou, a Tian Xia ranger whose presence was as fleeting as a storm’s edge. Jian-Zhou was a planes-walker, his weathered face etched with tales of worlds beyond Golarion, his hornbow humming with a power that seemed to bend the air itself. He had crossed the Veilspire tracking a shadow-wraith, an undead horror that spoke the Shae language—a tongue of sibilant whispers, born of the shadowplane and carried by its restless dead. Jian-Zhou found Kaelen after the boy survived an encounter with the wraith, his red eyes unblinking as he described its voice, a sound like glass breaking in the dark. Recognizing a rare affinity, Jian-Zhou took Kaelen as a student.


By firelight, Jian-Zhou taught Kaelen the hornbow’s art, its propulsive force a song of wind and death. With each draw, he wove the Shae language into Kaelen’s mind—a language not of people but of shadows, its syllables sharp and cold, like frost on a blade. “The Shae is the voice of the unmade,” Jian-Zhou said, his Tian Xia accent curling around the words. “To speak it is to court the void. To wield this bow is to hunt its children.” Kaelen learned swiftly, his thick hands mastering the bow’s curve, his crimson gaze piercing the dark as if born to it.


Kaelen’s youth was haunted by portents. His long black hair drank the light, and his hollowed cheeks gave him a spectral air, as if the shadows he hunted claimed a piece of him. At seventeen, hestumbled upon a shrine of obsidian, its altar slick with a substancethat pulsed like a dying heart. The Shae whispers grew louder there, offering power for a price unspoken. Kaelen fled, but his dreams became plagued by visions of a world drowned in shadow, where he stood alone, blades drawn. Jian-Zhou, ever cryptic, warned him of the Abomination Vaults—a labyrinth beneath the earth where the Shae’s masters stirred, their hunger tied to an ancient Umbral Pact that seemed to know Kaelen’s name.


By twenty, Kaelen was a hunter unmatched, by his peers his cold steel longsword and shortsword weaving death through his Twin Takedown, his Flurry Edge making him a phantom on the battlefield. The hornbow, Jian-Zhou’s legacy, was his truest weapon, its piercingwind felling foes from afar. Jian-Zhou vanished when Kaelen was nineteen, leaving only a jade-carved arrowhead and a planes-walker’s warning: “The Vaults will call. Answer, or be consumed.” The Abomination Vaults began to dominate Kaelen’s visions, their shadowed depths a siren’s call laced with dread.


At twenty-three, Kaelen left the Duskwind Clan, driven to unravel the truth of his dreams. Clad in weathered explorer’s garb, his healer’s toolkit proof of his skill in Battle Medicine, he roamed the wilds alone. His Unconventional Weaponry—the hornbow’s deadly arc—marked him as a warrior apart, blending human resolve with the eerie precision of Shae’s whispers. His Toughness carried him through trials that would break others, yet the Vaults’ call grew louder, a pulse in the dark.


Now, at twenty-five, Kaelen stands at the edge of the Abomination Vaults, his black eyes burning with resolve and unease. His corded hands grip his weapons with a predator’s ease; his scars, faint against his tanned skin, speak of battles won. He is a hunter who speaks the shadow’s tongue, a man shaped by a Tian Xia wanderer’s teachings and haunted by the undead’s whispers. The Vaults hold answers, but also horrors that could unmake him. As he steps into their lightless depths, the Shae language hums in his blood, and the shadows watch, their silence a promise of things older than gods.

@TenzenT
I know the skin color and eyecolor is off theres some other off things off like architecture.
I will fix later if you like

 

[TenzenT]

 

[Magonia]

Otari sprawls along the rugged coast, its docks alive with the creak of ships and the shouts of fishers, its lumberyards feeding the hungry markets of Absalom, just across the water. To Kaelen, it is home—a tangle of salt-soaked memories and shadowed secrets. As a boy, he darted through the town’s bustling wharves, slipped into the pine-draped woods, and drank in the tales of sailors: dragons felled by knights, treasures lost to the deep. Those stories stirred a fire in his Kellid blood, his dark eyes—sharp and unyielding, like polished obsidian—dreaming of a destiny beyond the sawmills. Yet the Veilspire Mountains, looming beyond Otari, always watched, their peaks whispering of the Umbral Pact, an ancient bargain that seemed to know his name.


Now twenty-five, Kaelen has returned to Otari, his long black hair tied back, his hornbow a silent weight across his shoulders. The town feels tighter now, its familiar rhythms—waves against stone, axes against wood—unable to quiet the visions that haunt him: the Abomination Vaults, a labyrinth of horrors beneath the earth, calling in the Shae tongue he learned from Jian-Zhou, the Tian Xia planes-walker. His hollowed cheeks and tanned skin, scarred faintly from years of survival, draw sidelong glances from townsfolk. They murmur of the boy who spoke to shadows, now a man who hunts them, his gaze fierce with a hunger for something more—red eyes, he once vowed, to match the fire of his ambition.


This dawn, as mist curled through Otari’s cobbled streets, a letter slipped under the door of Kaelen’s weathered shack. The wax seal bore the mark of Tamily Tanderveil, mistress of the Otari Fishery. Her words, jagged with urgency, pierced the fog of his thoughts:

Kaelen, you who’ve walked the wilds and returned unbroken, I need you. Something festers beneath my fishery, gnawing at our salted stores—a beast, or worse. The guard’s tied up with loggers in the hills, and fear’s spreading. I know your skill, your resolve. Descend into the dark and end this thing before it hungers for flesh. The shadows stir, and you’re the only one I trust to face them.

The letter weighs heavy in Kaelen’s hands, his thick fingers tracing its edges. The fishery’s basement, a childhood haunt where he’d filched scraps of cod, now harbors something vile. Whispers ripple through Otari’s taverns: a presence that slinks in the dark, its appetite a shadow of the void Kaelen senses in his dreams. The Shae tongue—taught by Jian-Zhou alongside the hornbow’s deadly arc—stirs unbidden, its whispers like frost on bone: “To speak it is to court the void. To hunt is to become it.”


Kaelen steps into the morning haze, the fishery’s silhouette rising through the fog. His blades hang ready at his hips, his bow a trusted ally, but he carries no illusions. This is no simple task. The Abomination Vaults, whose call has grown louder since he returned to Otari, lie close—too close. This beast below the fishery could be a thread in their dark weave, a first test of the Umbral Pact’s claim on him. His Kellid eyes, dark and resolute, fix on the trapdoor ahead. Tamily’s plea is a summons to confront the shadows he was born to hunt, and perhaps to glimpse the crimson gaze he yearns to claim.


As he descends, the air thickens, the Shae whispers rising like a pulse. The dark below waits, and Kaelen knows this is but the beginning—a step into a labyrinth that may name him hero, or devour him whole.

Kaelen trudges down the creaking stairs to the Otari Fishery’s basement, his fatigued limbs heavy, bedbug bites itching fiercely under his tanned, scarred skin from restless nights. His Kellid eyes—dark and fierce, dreaming of a crimson blaze—scan the dimness, hunting the beast that’s tearing through Tamily Tanderveil’s fish stores. The air’s thick with the sour reek of spoiled fish, biting his nose as he grips his hornbow and blades. Otari’s docks rumble faintly above, but down here, the silence is tight, like a trap waiting to spring.


Earlier, Tamily’s voice quavered in her messy office as she offered ten gold to stop the creature’s rampage. “Make it gone,” she urged, her gaze locking on Kaelen, seeing the kid who swiped cod now a wildsman with hollowed cheeks. He nodded, too worn to talk, her thanks barely cutting through his exhaustion. For a man like him, scraping by in the wilds, ten gold’s a solid haul—worth the risk. Now, the basement sprawls open, faint light glinting off damp stone pillars. Two barrels are smashed, fish spilled in a slimy pile, and a jagged hole gapes in the east wall, its darkness thick, like it’s got a pulse.


Kaelen steps forward alone, ignoring the burn of bites and the drag of fatigue. The hole pulls at him, a dare he can’t back down from. The gold’s good, but it’s the chance to prove he’s more than a drifter that lights a fire in his gut. His dark eyes fix on the hole, sharp, hungry. Whatever’s hiding in that dark, he’ll take it down, bugs and all, to claw his way to something bigger. He moves toward it, steady, ready.
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Ok so as oposed to normal games you are more like your characters coach than behind the wheel. you need to plan his plan of action significantly into the future not knowing what awaits not just the present @TenzenT

 

[Magonia]

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Veshir Zanshai, the Serpent’s Exchequer​

In the mist-shrouded gorges of Zi Ha, a realm in Tian Xia where jade cliffs pierce the clouds and rivers murmur truths too vast for mortal hearts, Veshir Zanshai was born to the Zanshai vishkanya, a secretive clan of scalekeepers whose venoms could unravel flesh or shatter sanity. To the untrained eye, Veshir appeared human, his skin smooth and unremarkable, but close inspection revealed the subtle glint of emerald scales along his wrists and the faint amber slit of his pupils—a vishkanyan’s hidden mark. Raised in the clan’s obsidian ziggurat, he mastered the alchemical arts under his mother, Lyssara, a toxin-mistress whose poisons were whispered to bind even the shades of the dead.

Lyssara taught him the sacred rite of envenoming, drawing venom from his blood or saliva—a ritual as intimate as it was deadly. “Our essence is our power,” she hissed, her voice sharp as a fang. But it was his father, Tzao, a merchant who threaded the Silk Roads with hidden vials of Zanshai venom, who sparked Veshir’s true obsession. Tzao worshipped Vapula, the Exchequer Keeper of the Pyrite Vault in Dis, an infernal duke whose hoard of knowledge could unravel the cosmos. “Vapula rewards the relentless,” Tzao would murmur, pressing a griffon-etched coin into Veshir’s palm, “but punishes the careless.” These tales of discovery and hubris took root, and in secret, Veshir carved Vapula’s sigil onto a jade amulet, whispering prayers for wisdom to pierce the world’s veiled lies.

At sixteen, betrayal struck. The Jade Coil, a rival vishkanya faction, poisoned Tzao’s caravan with a toxin that left him a hollow wraith, his mind a fractured void. The Zanshai elders demanded blood, but Veshir, guided by Vapula’s edict to question all, saw only futility in their vendetta. He fled under a starless sky, taking his alchemist’s toolkit, Tzao’s ledger of trade routes, and a katar etched with the Zanshai crest—a serpent entwined around a lotus, its petals dripping venom.

Veshir’s journey led him west to the Golden Road, where he honed his craft in Katheer’s spice-laden souks and Taldor’s opulent courts. In Qadira, he earned the title “Serpent’s Exchequer” after foiling a thieves’ guild with a mist of dread ampoules, his human guise unquestioned save by those who stared too long. In Taldor’s Oppara, he bartered poisons to scheming nobles, his vishkanyan traits hidden beneath a scholar’s poise, as Vapula’s edicts demanded mastery of others’ tongues. Each bargain, each discovery, was a tithe to the Pyrite Vault, whose ayngavhaul guardians haunted his dreams, their coin-like eyes gleaming with infernal judgment. Yet, the world’s splendor masked a cosmic indifference, a yawning abyss that mocked his quest for truth.

By twenty-three, Veshir reached Absalom, drawn by the Arcanamirium’s forbidden tomes and whispers of alchemical secrets buried in forgotten vaults. In its shadowed libraries, he unraveled the occult mathematics of Vapula’s toxins, while in its thieves’ dens, he slipped through shadows, his blowgun a silent hymn to his patron. His formula book, bound in wyrmling hide, swelled with recipes for lesser vials and dread ampoules, alongside notes on elixirs to mend shattered minds—a tribute to Tzao’s fate and Vapula’s call to discovery. But a new venture beckoned: Otari, a coastal town whose fishery supplied rare oils and briny reagents vital to his alchemical work.

In Otari, Veshir learned of disruptions at the Otari Fishery, a key source of fish oils and extracts he needed for his experiments. Vapula’s anathema against approximations demanded he inspect the reagents himself—tainted materials could ruin his craft or incur the Exchequer Keeper’s wrath. Arriving at the fishery under a sky heavy with brine and foreboding, Veshir glimpsed a figure—Kaelen, a brash adventurer—slipping toward the basement’s shadowed entrance, intent on probing the same disturbances. Kaelen’s reckless intrusion threatened the fishery’s operations, and thus Veshir’s trade. Driven by Vapula’s edict to safeguard his bargains and his own need for precision, Veshir followed unbidden, his cloak whispering as he descended into the basement’s damp gloom, katar in hand and toolkit at his side, ready to protect his interests and claim the secrets within.

As he steps into the Otari Fishery’s basement, the air thick with salt and decay, Veshir feels Vapula’s scrutiny—a gilded chain binding him to discovery and doom. The shadows below whisper of truths that may unmake the Serpent’s Exchequer, but he presses forward, driven by duty and the hunger for knowledge.
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Ok just like i said to Tenzent, as oposed to normal games you are more like your characters coach than behind the wheel. you need to plan his plan of action significantly into the future not knowing what awaits not just the present. you two are now just entered the basement. you kinda just barged in

 

[Magonia]

Kelen is sickened by the smells of the of the fishery.
Status effects and death can be acquired by deadbeating @TenzenT @Tabula Rasa

 

[Magonia]

@Tabula Rasa
Your character is also now sickened

 

[Magonia]

Kaelen is now frightened. He feels this is somehow related to the vaults that his fate portends

 

[Magonia]

Kaelen stands in the Otari Fishery’s basement, his fatigued body sagging, bedbug bites burning under his scarred, tanned skin from sleepless nights. His Kellid eyes—dark, fierce, yearning for a crimson blaze—flicker over the dim space, where damp stone pillars loom and two smashed barrels spill slimy fish across the floor. The air chokes with the sour reek of rot, but it’s not the unseen beast Tamily hired him to hunt that grips him—it’s the Abomination Vaults, their shadowed depths haunting his thoughts, gnawing at his resolve. The ten gold she offered, a solid sum for a wildsman like him, feels hollow against the dread of what lies beyond Otari.

Veshir's face, taut with unease at the wrecked stores, meets Kaelen’s hollowed cheeks, and fear flares in Veshir’s eyes—perhaps at the chaos, perhaps something deeper. Kaelen’s own terror surges, not from Veshir but from visions of the Vaults’ lightless corridors, their weight crushing his morale. His breath catches, legs buckling, and he collapses, curling into a fetal position on the cold stone, quivering. His thick hands clutch his knees, bedbug bites flaring, as the Vaults’ shadow looms larger than the gold or the hunt.

Veshir freezes, his own fear evident, clutching a ledger as if it could shield him from the basement’s menace. Kaelen’s dark eyes, wet with panic, stare blankly at the spilled fish, his body trembling but his Kellid grit flickering beneath the terror. The gold’s worth it, he tells himself, and proving he’s more than Otari’s dust matters more. The Abomination Vaults may haunt him, but he’s here, alone with Veshir, and the beast still waits. His fingers twitch, a faint promise to rise, to face the hunt despite the fear clawing his soul.

@Tabula Rasa @TenzenT

 

[TenzenT]

Kaelen stands in the Otari Fishery’s basement, his fatigued body sagging, bedbug bites burning under his scarred, tanned skin from sleepless nights. His Kellid eyes—dark, fierce, yearning for a crimson blaze—flicker over the dim space, where damp stone pillars loom and two smashed barrels spill slimy fish across the floor. The air chokes with the sour reek of rot, but it’s not the unseen beast Tamily hired him to hunt that grips him—it’s the Abomination Vaults, their shadowed depths haunting his thoughts, gnawing at his resolve. The ten gold she offered, a solid sum for a wildsman like him, feels hollow against the dread of what lies beyond Otari.

Veshir's face, taut with unease at the wrecked stores, meets Kaelen’s hollowed cheeks, and fear flares in Veshir’s eyes—perhaps at the chaos, perhaps something deeper. Kaelen’s own terror surges, not from Veshir but from visions of the Vaults’ lightless corridors, their weight crushing his morale. His breath catches, legs buckling, and he collapses, curling into a fetal position on the cold stone, quivering. His thick hands clutch his knees, bedbug bites flaring, as the Vaults’ shadow looms larger than the gold or the hunt.

Veshir freezes, his own fear evident, clutching a ledger as if it could shield him from the basement’s menace. Kaelen’s dark eyes, wet with panic, stare blankly at the spilled fish, his body trembling but his Kellid grit flickering beneath the terror. The gold’s worth it, he tells himself, and proving he’s more than Otari’s dust matters more. The Abomination Vaults may haunt him, but he’s here, alone with Veshir, and the beast still waits. His fingers twitch, a faint promise to rise, to face the hunt despite the fear clawing his soul.

@Tabula Rasa @TenzenT

Hoe calm down i lost acess to the forum

 

[Magonia]

Hurry up you are almost dead @TenzenT

 

[TenzenT]

Hurry up you are almost dead @TenzenT

I send my character visions of his training and wil for survival above all, calling for a standing up. ordering him to slash the insects with fast swings while dashing away, towards a gap in the wall for support @Magonia

 

[Tabula Rasa]

I draw upon my vast apothecary knowledge and begin creating an elixir of healing with my limited supplies

 

[Magonia]

Kaelen trembles in the Otari Fishery’s basement, his fatigued body crumpled on the cold stone, bedbug bites raging under his scarred, tanned skin as visions of the Abomination Vaults shred his morale. His Kellid eyes—dark, fierce, dreaming of crimson glory—stare blankly at the spilled fish, his thick hands clutching his knees in a fetal curl. Veshir, descending the creaking stairs to secure fish oils for his alchemical work, freezes, his amber-slitted eyes wide with fear at the basement’s chaos—smashed barrels, slimy fish, and a jagged hole in the east wall oozing darkness. Kaelen, snapping to his training, lurches to his feet, jaw tight. Veshir, voice soft with Tian Xia’s cadence, asks, “Are you well? Do you need aid?” Kaelen shakes his head, muttering, “This is my destiny. I’ve got a job to do,” his refusal ringing with hubris that Veshir, servant of Vapula, notes with a subtle smile, recognizing the Exchequer’s blessing is in such pride.

Veshir, clutching his katar and toolkit, sighs, his scar-flecked wrist glinting faintly with emerald scales. “Your pain’s beyond my potions,” he says, “but I’m here as a customer. This fishery’s reagents are my trade—I’ll guard against threats.” Kaelen, scratching a bedbug bite, points to the hole. “Some kinda bug’s coming from there. Get in position.” They brace themselves, Kaelen’s longsword and shortsword gleaming, Veshir slipping into the shadows with his blowgun. Two giant rats burst from the hole, their eyes glinting. Kaelen lunges, his blades a blur, slaying one rat with a deft slash and striking the other, carving away at it. Veshir, precise as Vapula demands, fires a poison dart from the gloom, its venom dropping the second rat dead. The ten gold Tamily offered—a decent haul for a wildsman like Kaelen—feels closer, but the hole’s dark promise looms large.

They approach the hole, Kaelen’s dark eyes narrowing, Veshir’s serpentine gaze wary. The darkness hints at more than rats, a threat beyond what either bargained for. “This is no simple job,” Kaelen mutters, his fatigue and bites sapping his nerve. Veshir nods, his alchemist’s mind calculating risks. They agree to retreat, regroup, and claim Tamily’s gold. Upstairs, they collect the ten gold, Kaelen’s share a small victory against his dread. At Otari’s market, they buy torches to light the hole’s secrets and salves to soothe Kaelen’s bedbug-ridden skin, though his Vaults-driven fear lingers, untreatable. Veshir, bound by Vapula’s call to precision, vows to return with Kaelen, their uneasy alliance forged in the basement’s shadows, ready to face what lies deeper.

You two are back in Otari: Kaelen collects his 10gp, Kaelen cures you both from sickness. Veshir buys Kaelen some torches.
List any gear you decide to get to adventure beyond the rat hole. Kaelen has 10 gp. as far as gear is concerned. think of that as like $200 so hes kinda broke. Veshir has 18 gold 2 silver think of like $364


Veshir keeps poison bombs 10 ft radius non negotiable, 6 of them. 2 have two other potion slots they are neurotoxin bombs you want to switch out with healing elixers? You two return to the hole unless theres other stuff you want to do.

You two are still frightened (Kaelen also has bedbugs and fatigue)

@Tabula Rasa @TenzenT

 

[TenzenT]

Kaelen trembles in the Otari Fishery’s basement, his fatigued body crumpled on the cold stone, bedbug bites raging under his scarred, tanned skin as visions of the

10/10 GPT roleplay, i rather have healing potions in this shithole, also want to rest a bit and find some robe or cloak against bugs, fucking hell.

 

[Magonia]

10/10 GPT roleplay, i rather have healing potions in this shithole, also want to rest a bit and find some robe or cloak against bugs, fucking hell.

The potion thing is for Tabula to decide. hes the one that can craft them. they dont take long to make. the way to get rid of the bugs is by getting Veshir to poison your gear and have him fumigate your hotel room. meaning you need to camp outside this night. You need to eat you can hunt and also afford food, You also might want to buy dry rations as you dont know whats in that hole but you fear its related to the abomination vaults.

 

[TenzenT]

@Tabula Rasa IN THE NAME OF OBLIVION, I ORDER YOU TO POISION MY GEAR TO FUMIGATE MY HOTEL ROOM!
-YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!! stupid bugs

outside force thoughts= Kaelen, camp outside and let veshir poison the gear to fugigate the bugs in your room, hm yes.
(Soft mumbliing for a while and stops).

 

[TenzenT]

To buy list dark fantasy for poor dark triads=
Healer's Kit (5 gp):
Rope, Hemp (50 ft)
Iron Spikes, and Hammer
Rations (2 days) (1 gp):
Waterskin (6 sp):
Cheapest Light Source Option: 4gp total in candles

 

[Magonia]

Rope, Hemp (50 ft)
Iron Spikes, and Hammer
Rations (2 days)

You now have 8 gold 5 silver.

you have everything else. you have only 1 torch but Veshir bought 4. (for you mostly because human eyesight is shit in the dark) I juess he can use the torsh sometimes and you can use it sometimes. torch interferes with his stealth and interferes using your shortsword in a fight but it gives you a little fire damage with your secondary weapon. You could fill your backpack with candles but they are so weak and cost basically nothing. are you sure?

 

[TenzenT]

Rope, Hemp (50 ft)
Iron Spikes, and Hammer
Rations (2 days)

You now have 8 gold 5 silver.

you have everything else. you have only 1 torch but Veshir bought 4. (for you mostly because human eyesight is shit in the dark) I juess he can use the torsh sometimes and you can use it sometimes. torch interferes with his stealth and interferes using your shortsword in a fight but it gives you a little fire damage with your secondary weapon. You could fill your backpack with candles but they are so weak and cost basically nothing. are you sure?

No need then