Pathfinder: Hell's Rebels
Urban Barbarian [4th]
Race: Human (kellid)
- Fed-up Citizen
- Controlled Rage (Ex)
- Crowd Control (Ex)
- Danger Sense x1
- Rage Power [accurate stance]
- Rage Power [intimidating glare]
- Uncanny Dodge
- Power Attack
- Furious Focus
- Stealth Synergy
- Knowledge (local)
- Profession (gardener)
- Knowledge (nobility)
Height: Over 180cm/6 feet
Personality: Straightforward and honest. Frustrated.
Quirk: Has a huge love for ancient kellid history and loves gathering stories of old
Keepsake: Sightly burned journal she keeps near to her heart
In the northern regions of Cheliax you are bound to see kellids mixed in into the general populace of the cities and towns. And like all the other kellids long ago pacified into the civilized world, they behave in the society just like the rest of the humans. Outside of the northern land of savages, the mighty wilders were tamed ages ago and only their physicality is left of the marauder people.
Although, that is never really the case. So many times, the kellids fall into the “troublemaker” category of the populace. As if something in the blood causes kellids to bash heads with the establishment and form their own little “tribes” inside the existing power structure. Kellids gangs ensue, which the governing body hardly likes.
Selka detached herself from that the moment she could. Already at the edge of maturity, she left the environment of her cousins and instead wanted to become part of the high culture of Kintargo. By slowly serving the noble populace she was finally able to put her little life into the high seat of Kintargo high life! … As the gardener of Victocora family. Her stature and robust behavior did not fit the bill to be one of the maids working inside the huge mansion.
But it was what she had hoped for. It was a door into a brighter future. Days spent on grooming and pulverizing the fertile grounds, nights she dreamed and wrote her own literary works on her little leather cover book. Most of it was merely better ideas she had heard from the noble scions walking the garden at sunny afternoons, but it was inspiration only at a different name! Years went by and she felt like soon she might be able to aspire to higher things!
And then the fire took it all. Waking up to the smell of smoke and touch of heat. Friends and possession, burning alike. And out of that tragic night, she can never forget the stares. In the chaos and panic, running into the streets and pleading help from the Dottari. And the look they gave. The complete lack of empathy in their eyes as they cold stated that “There was nothing to be done”.
Driven to the very edge, desperation drives her to protest.