Name: Sindrin Ulvfen

Strength: 16
Dexterity: 18
Constitution: 14
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 9
Charisma: 13
Comeliness: 14

Race: Elf
Age: 112
Height: 6'4 (193 cm)
Weight: 160 lbs (72 kg)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Worshipper of: Nethys
Class: Alchemist 13
Languages: Taldane, Elven, Draconic, Thassilonian, Dwarf, Abyssmal, Infernal, Giant, Celestial, Necril*, Sylvan*
Description: Tall and rather heavy set for an elf. Rather short, blond hair and hazel eyes. Dresses in very practical clothes with lots of pockets, eyelets and straps. Has a load of small vials and sprigs of herbs protruding from his pockets.
Saves: 9\12\5

Skill Ranks Placed A1A2A3A4A5A6A7A8A9A10A11A12A13Total
*Acrobatic 4 2 2 2 2 1 13
*Appraise 1 1
*Craft (Alchemy) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 13
*Disable Device 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 13
*Fly 1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1* 13
*Heal 1 1
*Knowledge (Arcana) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 13
Knowledge (Arch/Engin) 1 1
Knowledge (Dungeoneering) 1 1 1 1 1 1 6
Knowledge (Engineering) 1 1
Knowledge (Geography) 1 1 2
Knowledge (History) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 12
Knowledge (Local) 1 1
*Knowledge (Nature) 1 1
Knowledge (Nobility) 1 1
Knowledge (Planes) 1 1 2
Knowledge (Religion) 1 1 2
Linguistics 1 1 1 1 1 5
*Perception 1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1*1* 13
*Sleight of Hand 1 1
*Spellcraft 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 13
*Use Magic Device 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 13
Hit Points (no Con) 9 7 6 7 3 5 9 7 2 2 8 6 9 80

*Kopplat till Headband of Vast Intellect


  • Point Blank Shot
  • Brew Potion
  • Extra Discovery
  • Master Alchemist
  • Swift Poisoning
  • Precise Shot
  • Dodge
  • Poison Immunity
  • Rapid Shot
  • Iron Will


  • Precise bombs
  • Explosive bomb
  • Infusion
  • Sticky poison
  • Fast bombs
  • Force bombs
  • Greater mutagen


  • 20 /days 7d6+7 Splash 14 (reflex save DC 23 for half)


  • Duration: 120 min, 1/day
  • Effect: +4 Natural, +6 Dex, +4 Con, -2 Wis, -2 Ch


  • Level 1 (7): Bomber's eye, Crafter's Fortune, Comprehend languages, Cure light wounds, Enlarge person, Identify, Shield, Spider climb, Touch of the sea, True strike
  • Level 2 (7): Barkskin, Blur, Bull's strength, Cat's grace, Cure moderate wounds, Fox’s cunning, Invisibility, Levitate, Lesser restoration
  • Level 3 (6): Haste, Heroism, Fly, Cure serious wounds
  • Level 4 (4): Fluid form, Stone skin, Freedom of movement
  • Level 5 (2): Spell Resistance


  • Copper:
  • Silver: 26
  • Gold: 15400 56
  • Platina: 90
  • Diamond: 500

Mundane items

  • Riding horse
  • Alchemist lab

Magic Items

In possession

  • Ring of protection +1
  • Amulet of natural armour +1
  • Longsword +1
  • Headband Int +4
  • Bow adaptive, +1
  • Belt Dex +2
  • Mithral chain shirt +2


  • Headband of vast intelligence +2
  • Belt of giant strength +2
  • Sihedron medallion (+1 res. bonus on all saves. False life (1d10+5) once per day, as a free action)
  • Composite longbow, mighty +3, +1 icy burst
  • Mithral chain shirt +1
  • Ring of swimming
  • +1 Admantine longsword
  • Scroll
    • 2 x Comprehend languages
    • 2 x See invisibility
    • Sleep
  • Spellbook (Mammy)
  • Potions
    • 1 Heroism (lvl 5)
    • 2 Cure Light (1d8+1)
    • 1 Cure Light (1d8+4)
    • 2 Cure Moderate (2d8+3)
    • 1 Cure Moderate (2d8+4)
    • 0 Cure Serious (3d8+5)
    • 4 Acid
  • Wand silent images (1) 5 charges
  • Wand cure moderate wounds 9 charges
  • 4 x Arrows (+1, Elf bane)
  • 0 x Arrows (+1, Flaming burst)
  • 16 x Arrows (+1, Undead bane)
  • 1 x Arrows (Greater arrow of slaying monstrous humanoid)

Wish list

  • Belt Dex +2/Str +2 10k
  • Celestial chainshirt 22k
  • Cloak res +4
  • Bow adaptive, +1, +1d6 acid


Sindrin was born to a noble elven family of the Mierani Forest. The family Kellrindor have made their renown by crafting excellent bows for more than three centuries. The head of the family, Oldin Kellrindor, has recently retired and have left the business in the hands of the first born Celinda, Sindrins senior by more than 50 years. The middle child, Therion, was brought up a proud and skilled warrior. He was idolised by the much younger Sindrin as he was growing up. Therion was also an excellent storyteller and used to spin tales of both his own exploits and those of renowned heroes of the past. Sindrin aimed to himself become the stuff of legends, but unfortunately showed an annoying ineptitude with swordplay compared to his fellow students. With older siblings and rather old and rich parents he was left to do more or less what he wanted. Not ready to give up his dream of becoming a hero he turned his eye towards magic. He studied the theory of using magic to enhance once own prowess in battle for many years, but could for some reason not translate theory into practice.

Almost ready to give up, Sindrin found a few tomes on the topic of alchemy which seemed to be an answer to his prayers for help. The most promising concoction was a mutagen that could make a person strong and sturdy as a horse. Unfortunately it turned out that it dulled Sindrin’s wit, a rather unpleasant sensation. Luckily it turned out there was an almost equally powerful mutagen that could increase his deftness with only a minor side effect of making him more impulsive. Full with confidence, possibly a side effect of the mutagen, Sindrin took up his warrior training. This time around as an archer, he could keep up with the other students though only for short periods of time.

His experiments to create more potent concoctions got more and more desperate and he got reckless. Blending different volatile compounds he managed to blow up the village school where he was working. A few were injured but fortunately no one was killed. Sindrin was given an ultimatum of abandoning his dangerous pursuit of knowledge or being exiled from the village. He chose the latter.

He was given sufficient means and equipment, including one of his family’s prized long bows, to be able to sustain himself for a few months. He aims to one day return to his kin a mighty hero. Meanwhile he has set his eyes on the ancient lore of the Thassilonians and has travelled to Sandpoint to explore the ruins in that region. He is travelling under the assumed identity of Sindrin Ulfven, alchemist and brewer of potions and plans to sell his services to fund his expeditions.

The Epic Story of Sindrin Ulvfen

Introductory remark

I have come by a journal of one of my companions, Harlan Hess, and though it is interesting in a quaint and colloquial way, it contains several falsehoods, omissions and understatements. As an avid historian I cannot sit idly by knowing that my history in the making is not documented truthfully and comprehensively. I have therefore planed to document my own story for the sake of posterity. I will start my story at a time when my companions and I had vanquished the giants of Jorgenfist, returned to Sandpoint to aid the villagers with a demon incursion and slain the intruders.

Chapter 1

We found ourselves in an ancient temple of Thassilonian origin. I had read about their religious practices in several tomes, but never before witnessed such marvels first hand. Though crumbling, I could find inscriptions covering walls and ceiling. I had of course no problem in deciphering the texts, but their meaning still eluded me. I had of course several working theories, but needed to have them confirmed before I mentioned them for the others. I brought some of my findings to Brother Quink, a sage of no small repute in Sandpoint, who as well as I had specialised in the history of the Thassilonian empire. He managed to find a reference in one of the text, describing the Runeforge, and could connect it too a cliff overseeing the Lake Stormunder in northernmost Varisia, just as I had surmised myself. The cliff bared the ominous name of Rimeskull. Perhaps this would be the site where I would find the hidden power of the Runelords? Though the thought of rime crested peaks brought on a involuntary shiver along my spine, it was clear that we would have to travel to the land of snow. My destiny awaited me in those forgotten halls of the Runelords and I couldn't wait to run and grab it. What treasures would we find? What guardians would I have to conquer to reach my goal? The promise of high adventure that the continued quest held, filled me with exhilaration, but to ensure success in my quest, I first needed to re-equip myself since the cursed giants had stolen all my belongings.

The not so learned, but still skilled Simon Thorne provided transportation to Riddleport via a short stop in Magnimar (sorcerous magic is fickle at best). Those innate powered sorcerers have it so easy. This one though had tempered his fickle powers well and even learned to focus them into item creation. We sold the treasures amassed on our earlier adventures and I re-equipped as best as I could with the short time we had. While in Riddle I sought out my former companion Snorre Strulason to give him his cut of the sales. It was sad to see that the ordeal in Jorgenfist had broken him to the point that he would no longer continue on this quest of knowledge. A pity since his arcane powers had just started to develop. I asked Simon to stay behind and craft me a protective cloak, since his skills were better utilised helping us this way, rather than in battle. I was myself ready to continue the quest and I could feel my destiny beckoning. It was time to enter the Runeforge.

Chapter 2

I instructed our priestly scholar Arond Greyfist in how to transport us via divine power to Rimeskull. With my aid the trip was expeditious and uneventful. As we neared my destination I could see a peak with seven immense stone heads, and not far away was another peak, fashioned into an even greater statue. I knew the visages of all the statues well from my earlier studies; the seven heads of course depicting the Runelords, and apart from the others was Xin, the founder of the Thassilonian empire. I could see a stairway leading up to Xin's mouth where there seemed to be an opening into the cliff.

I asked Arond to set us down among the Runelords. From my apprentice studies of the Thassilonian empire I knew that the seven Runelords were masters of their own school of magic. I surmised that the instructions we had found underneath Sandpoint about giving proper prayers to the Runelords in fact pointed to casting spells of the corresponding school at the statues. Following my instructions Arond managed to produce two of the seven keys. As we were working on the third key we were interrupted by a bone-chilling scream from our archer Harlan Hess. Turning around I could see both Harlan and our Paladin Ulrich Soth sheeted in ice and an ancient white dragon hovering above them. I could see that the others were shaken by it's presence and I can admit that I too was worried that this could be the bringer of my doom. Such a powerful dragon would of course master the art of arcane magic, which could explain why it could have sneaked up on us. I was completely unprepared for a battle of this magnitude and if I would have been alone I would have preferred to go invisible to prepare, but I had to collect myself to save the others. Harlan loosened a volley of arrows that seemed to bite deep into the scaly beast's abdomen. The now furious dragon landed upon the hapless Harlan, effectively blocking my view of him. I wondered why he didn't try to escape this grim fate, but I assumed that he was frozen by fear. Now grounded, the dragon was an easier target for Ulrich, who could step in to land a few heavy blows. I quickly blended an extract of Haste and circled around the dragon to get closer. The dragon seemed intent on trampling the poor Harlan, which gave me the chance to match the dragons icy breath with some alchemical hell-fire! Three of my bombs hit the dragon square in the face, making it howl in pain and sheer terror. It stumbled backward screaming ferally, and then took to the air. The battle was over before it even begun.

I contemplated flying after the dragon, giving chase, but tempered my battle fury. I tried to spot it from the cliff's edge but it had vanished with no place to hide. More arcane magic at work, no doubt. We licked our wounds and collected the third key, before taking flight once more. We found a cave to regroup and planned for how to collect the remaining keys.

Chapter 3

After aiding the spellcasters in producing the keys, I asked Arond to bring us into Xin's mouth. I gave the whole group extracts to make us invisible, in case the cave entrance would be guarded. Kwarg spotted holes in the cave wall and eyes within, ever vigilant for intruders. My illusions seemed to have done the trick, likely saving us from stepping into a deadly trap or another ambush. We kept on flying into the cave, deftly escaping a gruesome trap with a tilted floor covered in slick ice leading to a seemingly bottomless shaft. We descended down into the shaft and found ourselves in what seemed to be the dragon's lair. We chose not to linger, and entered the keys into the corresponding statues. By doing so we opened a passage into the runeforge. We all stepped through and found ourselves in a room with eight exits; one for each runelord and one from which we came. I directed us to take the first passage (pride) and than continue clockwise. Kwarg, our scout, took the lead and unfortunately triggered a powerful trap. He suddenly faced two copies of himself, plainly poised for attack. I could of course discern the origin of the magic; a fiendish item called a Mirror of Opposition. In this case it was not one, but two such powerful artefacts at work. As I opened my mouth to voice a warning, Harland stepped in front of the mirrors to attack one of the Kwargs, of course generating two copies of himself. He managed to do some serious damage to his target, but was imminently shot down by a barrage of arrows from his own images. Luckily the images disappeared as soon as Harlans lifeless body hit the ground. I, on the other hand, could easily attack Kwarg's other image for even more damage without stepping in front of the mirrors. I also instructed the others about the vile magic at work, and that Kwarg needed to withdraw since we couldn't aid him against his own images. The images pursued without regard for their own “life” and Arond and Ulrich could easily cut down the images after my initial devastating attacks. We would need to revive Harlan and come up with an alternate plan before continuing on my quest. I had of course already an idea for how to circumvent this deadly trap without destroying the potent artefacts. I would of course need to study them further at a later date.

Chapter 4

With the fresh corps of Harlan out in the corridor, I told my companions to stand back so as not to conjure any more images. I blended and drank an extract that turned me invisible so as to, cleverly if I may add, circumvent the mirror trap. I dragged Harlan's body out of sight from the mirrors and left him to be cared by the others, leaving me to take care of business. I stepped into the corridor, not worried at the slightest that my plan wouldn't be a complete success. I studied the magical aura of the mirrors for a brief moment, quickly discerning the command words. I deactivated both traps and stepped passed to look into the room beyond. There was nothing but a dais in the middle of the grand chamber, sporting a statue of a peacock, so I returned to the others to announce my success. Harlan was up and about so I gave the others leave to press on.

Four identical spell casters popped into view as if they'd been invisible or conjured by magic. This was, as I had assessed earlier, the domain of Xanderghul, Runelord of Pride, Satrap of Cyrusian, and first amongst equals. There would be illusion magic aplenty for us to battle. They let fly some petty magic, though the minor spells were suspiciously potent. Harlan dropped one of the creations with a hail of arrows, and as suspected it was dispelled rather than killed. Two of the other illusions tried to flee, but I laid down a carpet of bombs where one of them had just disappeared, likely destroying it. The second later I could feel potent magic flowing over me, magical tendrils relentlessly tearing at my sharp mind with overwhelming force. I could feel my mind slipping and could see Arond succumb to the same fate. I damned that ever pressing time constraint. If I had only had time to wait for Simon to craft my new cloak. And then all hell broke loose.

Chapter 5

I wrested control over my mind once, twice, thrice. Each time I blinked back into myself I could see the situation getting worse and worse. Blink; Arond blabbered incoherently, surprisingly weak-minded for a priest. Blink; Harlan was down. Blink; Kwarg had fallen, probably a victim of vile magic since I saw no lethal injuries. Each time my mind cleared up, I shouted to the survivors for directions since all the attackers seemed to be invisible. I laid out mats of fire with my bombs, occasionally finding my targets. Relying on the others' perception I couldn't hope for more. Suddenly I felt the magic releasing its hold on me. Arond, still not of clear mind, tried to attack me but to no avail. I stepped around him, ignoring his feeble attacks. I focused my bombing and managed to destroy another image. The remaining wizards started laying out mats of their own, these made of hail storms. Some I could see were mere illusions, others battered me relentlessly. I started to run out of bombs and life as well unfortunately. I changed to my trusted bow and started shooting at the now visible wizards. I put down another wizard just before succumbing to another hail storm.