Sir Tor

Sir Tor the Tried and Tested


Human Paladin(Warrior of the Holy Light) 5 LG 45 years old, 5’9", 165. XP: 12060/15000
Str 18(4) Dex 15 (2) Con 15 (2) Int 9 (-1) Wis 12(1) Cha 18 (4) HP 39
AC 18 (10
6 Armor+2 Dex)
(4 versus smite target)(-2 when Charging)(0 when Mounted Charging due to Shield)
Armor Check Penalty? 0 (-1 Trait, -1 Mwk, +1 Rhino Hide)

BAB 5 Smite adds +4/5 dam Power Attack -2/4 Charge +2/2d6
Redeemer 12(2d65)(Silver)(19-20) or
Duty and Honor 8/8 (1d6+4/1d6+2) or
Mounted Charging mwk Lance 14 (2d82d6+12) x3
Power Attack:
Redeemer: 10 (2d611)
Duty/Honor 6/6 (1d6+8/1d6+6)
Mounted Charging mwk Lance 12 (2d82d6+18)
Smite Power Attack Charging:
Redeemer 16 (4d616);
Duty/Honor 12/12 (3d6+13/3d6+13);
Mounted mwk Lance 16 (2d82d6+23)

F: +8 R: +7 W: +8; Immune to Fear, Disease

Traits: Rich Parents (900 gp starting), Seeker (Percept +1, Percept C/S), Armor Expert (-1 AC pen)
Drawback: Doubt (Failure on Skill Check Imposes -4 for 1 hour on the same skill)
Feats: Two Weapon Fighting(H), Weapon Focus Short Sword (1), Power Attack (3), Extra Lay on Hands (5)

Skills: Diplomacy +8, Know (Religion) +3, Intimidate +5, Perception +7, Stealth +6, Handle Animal +8, Heal +5, Ride +6, Sense Motive +5

Class Archetypes: Warrior of the Holy Light; Favored Class Bonus: 5 Skill Ranks; Backstory Class Skill: Stealth; Gear: Adventuring gear (100 gp) cold iron dagger, Rhino Hide Armor (2 Hide Armor, –1 armor check penalty; wearer deals an additional 2d6 points of damage on any successful charge attack made by the wearer, including a mounted charge), ‘Redeemer’ mwk alchemical silver greatsword, ‘Duty’ and ‘Honor’ 2 short swords, 4 vials holy water, 2 healers kits, light horse combat trained with military saddle and saddlebags (Mwk Lance and Mwk Light Steel Shield), 2 mules with pack saddles, 99 gp , Book: The History of Reign and the Blood of Nar

Class Abilities: Smite Evil 2/day, Detect Evil @ will,
Lay on Hands 9x/day (2d6, removes Sickening and All allies in 30 ft radius (including the warrior of the holy light) receive a 1 morale bonus to AC and on attack rolls, damage rolls, and saving throws against fear as long as they remain in the area of light. This power lasts for 1 minute); or 2 uses to Channel Positive Energy (2d6 healing 30 ft radius, undead take damage Will DC 16 to ½)
Divine Grace, Aura of Courage (Immune to Fear; Allies within 10 ft get +4 to ST v. Fear), Divine Health (Immune to Disease), Mercy: Sickened
Divine Bond: Mount Valeria Victrix
Once per day, as a full-round action, a paladin may magically call her mount to her side. This ability is the equivalent of a spell of a level equal to one-third the paladin’s level. The paladin can handle her animal companion as a free action, or push it as a move action, and receives a +4 on all Handle Animal checks to do so.
Valeria has an aloof, detached personality, keenly observing the world around her—often understanding it much better than her demure natures might imply— and is adept at inferring others’ desires, motives, and intentions. She is shrewdly calculating and opportunistic, especially when it comes to ensuring their own survival. She is often high above a fracas, coldly deciding on the best course of action, entering the fray when she can change the odds in favor of the just outcome.
Roc; Size Medium; AC: 22 (
7 natural armor; 5 Dex); HP: 40, F: +4, R: +9, W: +2; Speed 20 ft., fly 80 ft.; Attack 2 talons +13/13(1d6+1), bite 13(1d61); Ability Scores Str 13(1), Dex 20 (5), Con 10(0), Int 6(-2), Wis 13(1), Cha 11 (+0); Special Qualities: low-light vision; Tricks: attack, bombard, deliver, come, defend, down, guard, and heel, Evasion
Skills: Fly* (Dex) +10, Perception* (Wis) +5, Stealth* (Dex) +5


The lore of Sir Tor
The man known to Reign as Sir Tor the Tried and Tested was not always known as such. He is a Paladin Penitent, bound by oath to carry the identity and persona of Sir Tor the Restorer, a legendary paladin of ages past whose glory has been increased over the generations by pentitents who take up his mantle and attempt to redeem their own transgressions.


Keldorn was born a scion of the noble Firecam family of Alexandria.

He was a precocious youth, charming and fearless, and attained his rights of manhood at the tender age of 7. He elected to begin then in the path of the paladin by becoming a sworn squire to a Knight.
Keldorn was a Squire to King Pellinore, fighting back the savagery of the world outside Alexandria on the island of Angelsey. He was protector of young Prince Odo and boon companion to the youth. After a decade as a squire, he was dubbed Knight by King Pellinore alongside his childhood friend Prince Odo.

He adventured for several years as a Knight of the Righteous Hand, seeing that the civilizing example of Alexandria was shared with other communities in the region. Always he took seriously his duties as a paladin of Torm, always he believed that nothing was beyond mankind’s strength if they kept faith with each other and the gods.


As a Knight of the Righteous Hand, Keldorn took on the duty of seeing Gorion’s Ward safely to the Darkwell, so that he could purge the essence of the God of Murder that was left inside him. This led to a long struggle against the Throne of Murder, the cabal of Bhaalites who sought to resurrect their dread lord. In this, many of his companions fell into death and darkness, including Imoen the Sorceress and Nalia D’Arnisse, noble daughter of Alexandria. Eventually, the schemes of the Throne of Murder culminated in the High Priestess Imellysan being able to seize the essence of Bhaal and force open the gateway to the Abyss. While Gorion’s Ward was able to stop the resurrection of Bhaal, the Slayer was released and the Worldwound resulted.


Keldorn returned to Alexandria with news of the dark times at hand. He took up his duties as Lord Firecam, fathering sons and attending to the needs of the city. When the Crusade commenced, however, he could not sit idly by. He took his place and joined his lifelong friend Prince Odo with the warriors of Angelsey in joining the Crusade to close the Worldwound. The Crusade was a great success at first, as allies were recruited from all over the realm including the Wyrm Falcor. With that Silver Dragon as a symbol, the Crusaders liberated the blade of long-dead King Carsomyr and Prince Odo wielded it on behalf of the righteous King of Alexandria. Unfortunately, King Mordrake learned of this use of a symbol of Alexandrian royalty and fell into covetousness. He saw to it that Prince Odo the Might was struck down and convinced Keldorn of his innocence, in part by appealing to his vanity. By making Keldorn lord of the Stormbreak Keep, King Mordrake recovered the Hallowed Redeemer of King Carsomyr and solidified his grip on power in Alexandria. Keldorn, busy with the Crusade and Stormbreak, ignored desperate letters from his wife to return home and tend to his family. His heart filled with grief over the death of Prince Odo and distracted by the glory of battle, his eye never strayed from the Worldwound and the hordes of the Abyss spilling forth from it.


It was the death of Falcor that finally opened Keldorn’s heart to humility. Astride the mighty wyrm, Keldorn believed he could defeat any enemy of good and right civilization. When he drove the dragon down into direct combat with one of the Demon Lords, he realized that he had pushed too far for his own glory. The noble dragon’s blood was so blue, Keldorn knew that a truly noble being was lost that day. Even worse, he saw the dozens of paladins who died so that his shattered body could be pulled from the battlefield. It was then that his eyes were opened to the price of vanity and the pursuit of glory.


He returned home to Alexandria only to discover that he wasn’t done paying for his sins. He was hailed as a hero, feted as a champion, and welcomed into the highest levels of society. He was seduced by the honeyed words of King Mordrake and lent his own energies to the drunkenness of court. One morning, wrecked by drink, he awoke to realize that his estate was empty of all his family and his wife was gone to Reign, leaving only a cold note of dismissal. He then realized that he had to walk a different path to regain his better nature. He walked that day into the humble shrine of the Paladins Penitent and took the oath of a penitent, becoming Sir Tor.


Tor is a member of the Paladins Penitent. Keldorn Firecam is a member of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. In that role he won the rank of rank of Justiciar and was Master of the Stormbreak Keep even though he was never a Crusader.


When asked about his past, Tor sighs and is forced to think for a moment before counting the number of years he has been a paladin of Torm in the service of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. He has battled to protect the defenseless and punish the evil on more occasion than he can recall. A seasoned veteran with the scars to prove it, he speaks wistfully of retirement in the future and the opportunity to spend more time with his family. Upon their mention, however, his attention wanders off and grows grim. Duty is more important than personal considerations, he whispers hardly, so long as the Order has need of him.
He travels now with Meileiah Uminacht, a young halfling girl, from Alexandia to the dark and corrupt city of Reign, each step haunted by the certain truth that will be revealed there. Silversmith’s words haunt Tor, “I know who you are and I know where your wife is. In Reign you will find her and you will see what a crusader’s rewards have purchased.” Tor would prefer to leave that truth unknown but he also knows that Meileiah’s mother commanded him to bring her to his wife, her childhood friend, so that she would know of her mother before the Crusade hardened her and took peace from her life.
He knows, as his young squire does not, that the secrets of her past are to be found in the darkest betrayal of a legacy of true valor. He knows, as she must not, of the cost that service to the ideal of Justice extracts.
The challenges of simultaneously fulfilling his duty to his departed Paladin friend, serving as Meileiah’s mentor, and confronting his failure as a husband and a father while maintaining the state of Grace purchased with his penance and humble atonement seem as great as those he faced during the Crusade. Tor had failed then and fallen into corruption; he must succeed now lest his life’s service come to naught.
The world is full of darkness and corruption and Justice flickers like a dim candle, outside the sight of Tor after his Fall from Grace during the Worldwound Crusade. He had sought out glory rather than duty; he had lost everything. In 15 years of combat against the demons of the Abyss he had no concern for his wife and children and they lived, loved, and died in the shadows of his negligent indifference.
In those years of constant battle, he had forgotten his oaths of humility and mercy, and allowed vanity to become his troth; losing the Grace of a Paladin did not concern him as his list of vanquished enemies and the glory accorded him by the Crusading Orders provided him the false comfort of renown. He was Lord Keldorn Firecam, companion of Prince Odo the Mighty and the Master of Stormbreak Keep! He had crushed the demons of the Abyss with the ever-keen Hallowed Redeemer of King Carsomyr! He straddled the fearsome wyrm Falcor and held back the hordes of Orcus for three days and nights at the Worldwound itself! He was a hero and a champion of the realm!
He was a fool.
When he returned home he took in the measure of his folly. His estate deserted, his wife departed, and his children buried in the family plot, he knew how far he had fallen in his duty.
He cast off his famous name, laid on the altar of his God the spoils of war and committed himself to a path of penance. He kept only the humble tools accorded a knight errant, wrapped himself in the name of the penitent Sir Tor and walked away from his wealth and privilege.
Now, barely a year into his penance, he feels Grace flowing back into him and can sense his restoration as a Paladin. He knows he must carefully guard his virtue against his vanity and he has taken on the brash girl as his squire so that his call to duty will never be far from his eyes. In her voice he hears the echo of his own daughter’s voice and through her eyes he is convinced he will see the world with hope. But first, he must walk again in the humble path of a dutiful servant of Torm.
Taking on a protege was not something Tor wanted to do. But the voice of Talmandora, the angelic herald of Torm to the Order of the Most Radiant Heart was clear: the halfling paladin must be taken to Reign and begin to fulfill her duty as an inspiration to the downtrodden of that city. Tor had no idea why Reign was so important to Torm but he knew it was past time for him to leave Alexandria, glorious city of knowledge and righteousness. There was no home for him there anymore, confronted as he was by his past as a knight consumed by the call to glory and ambition. His path of atonement demanded he go where none would recognize him as who he was before.
His arrival in Reign was a reminder of just how much cleansing the debased world required before Truth and Honor was restored to its proper place; distressingly Tor realized just how comfortable it felt to be surrounded by the squalor and corruption, as if his year of penance had not yet expunged the vice from his own soul. He knew that he must immediately seek out the opportunity to do penance with the innocent, if an innocent could be found in a city such as this. Fortunately, the stabling of his stalwart steed and dutiful pack animals presented him with just such an opportunity. Before seeking out the lost servants of Torm at the Endless Sun, Tor would provide succor to the malnourished and sick horses consigned to the care of the broken alcoholic horse trainer of Reign’s squalid Southeastern Quarter. Showing his squire the tonic effect of goldfish in a drinking trough and the powerful impact good fodder can provide mankind’s most noble domesticated beasts, Tor was gratified that his first opportunity to be of service was successful. He may have broken his family through neglect but he would heal these innocent creatures with his attention. As he brushed out their tick-infested hides he knew that each humble brushstroke was similarly brushing out the vermin-vice infesting his soul. ‘Through service we are healed,’ went the mantra and Tor embraced its soothing words fully. Unfortunately, he could also hear and smell the telltale signs of alcoholic carousing from the adjacent bar. Trusting his eyes more than his memories, he knew from looking at the stabler that consuming alcohol led only to dissolution and despair and refocused his mind on the task at hand. As he felt the clutching claws of temptation recede from his heart, he aligned himself with the challenge of operating in this dark city. He knew that they would need to make their base secure, the initial steps they had taken this evening were only the beginning, and acquiring the knowledge that would make possible their effective work for goodness here. He also knew that a stealthy approach at night to the Endless Sun would likely be more fruitful than the conventional paladin’s open daylight approach. Fortunately, the location of the armory at the waterfront created immense potential as the constant nightly fog would obscure any approach by the river.
Once his new companions were finished with their necessary drunken mirth, Tor saw them back home and finished explaining his plan to his squire. Together they let out before dawn, surprised only to see that all of their fellows were spoiling for adventure, even in the harrowing hours of darkness before dawn. Successfully making their way across the river revealed to Tor that the massive half orc was not as strong as his stature seemed to suggest and he adjusted his mighty pulls on the oars to match the giant’s efforts; doing otherwise would have caused them to travel in circles. Arriving at the Endless Sun they found sleeping dwarves, not servants of Tor, surrounded by darkness. The impending dawn made a swift retreat necessary and as they slipped back towards their new home, the city of Reign presented its first true surprise.
The Endless Sun armory had fallen to deluded servants of a dwarven pretender god called Nar. His false promises of glory and power had misled the trespassers into acts of vile evil and profound tragedy. All around the armory were the signs of murder and malice, the blood of dead brothers hallowing this hall in a way no workman’s sweat ever could. Tor could feel the urge to battle, the call to glory, rising in him but he knew he had to humble his heart and extend mercy first, so that he would not again fall into shadow. He called for their surrender in the name of Torm, and a few complied. Directing them away from the center of the room, he lofted his squire into the rafters she navigated with such ease. He then charged against the evil ringleader, the foul deceiver of these poor fools. With Honor and Duty, his two servant’s blades, he struck down the villain and cowed another of the dwarves. His allies did signal work as well, beating into submission any who would continue to defile this place of sanctuary. In the aftermath of battle, he realized that restoring this place to its place in the service of Torm would take true priests, priests Tor did not have to hand in this dark city. Gathering his comrades and sending off the dwarves with an injunction to never again hinder the servants of Torm, he returned to the inn on the far side of Reign’s foggy river.
In the next day and night, the party fulfilled their duty to their host and discovered that the Guild was pressuring halflings into murderous service. Despite his best efforts to win over a defenestrated Hin to the service of Torm, the paladin was unable to gain even a single convert in the foul city of Reign. He humbly accepted that his skills of persuasion were not yet equal to the task of leading the blind to the light. Still, he lit the candle in the Endless Sun Armory and secured it for the priests that would surely be sent in response to his message to Alexandria. Now, with growing confidence in his returning skill as a paladin, and the stalwart support of his squire and new companions, Tor knew the mysterious purpose of his mission in Reign would soon be revealed.
Weeks of work with the acolytes sent from Alexandria saw Tor achieve a restoration of the Endless Sun and begin the work of providing some measure of peace, security, and, most importantly, hope, to the downtrodden of Reign. When he was confident of their ability to work discretely in Reign, he sought out his companions and continued the larger project of defeating the evil of their city. They worked to foment a guild war between the Priests of Nar and the Hin thieves, resulting in the removal of both from the lower city and the near annihilation of the Priests of Nar by the Hin. In the brief window of opportunity created by their war, Tor was able to establish the Sons of Reign, a mutual defense and aid society devoted to protecting the people of Reign’s poorer districts. His squire successfully neutralized the Hin threat by forming the Daughters of Reign, a female group devoted to pacifying the criminal element with entertainment and hospitality.

The coming of the fall saw the challenges of Reign shift to the docks. A wave of brutally efficient assassinations saw dozens of sailors murdered and the cargos of their ships stolen by unknown hands. Called to the area through the contacts Tor’s allies had made with the commercial interests of the city, the paladin and his squire joined them in investigating the rash of murders. Tor was able to persuade the party to accept food for the poor as primary payment from the beleaguered ship captains and soon a volunteer gang of out-of-work sailors were serving as a picket for any malefactors working on the docks. He had to admit that the acclaim of Reign’s most-oppressed pleased him and he knew that meant he needed to find a priest of Torm to provide him with some form of penance for the stirrings of vanity in his all-too-corruptible heart. In the meantime, as his steed slowly trotted down the dock, he cast the eyes of memory back to the carnage of the Third Battle of Megiddo. Remembering the hordes of his fallen colleagues, lost because of the corruption that entered his soul through alcohol and vanity turned into a battle that didn’t need to be fought, he felt again the reassuring weight of humility and the welcome burden of duty.
The first group of villains to be encountered, however, wore the regalia of the Brotherhood, an armed gang in service to the shadowy cabal of wizards behind most of Reign’s corruption for generations. Attempts to negotiate a voluntary agreement to pursue the serial killers were unsuccessful and Tor was forced to fulfill his darkest duty: dispatching evil-doers to their well-earned time of reckoning. His steed’s valor and blade’s keenness being equal to the task, a handful of Brotherhood thugs were dispatched but the mystery of the thefts remained unsolved. As Tor prayed for absolution for the villain’s souls, he also asked that his feeble powers of discernment would become equal to the challenge of piercing the mystery. After all, sailors fulfilling their duty to their ship’s masters did not deserve death.

Accordingly, the companions elected to seek out the source of the evil in New Socket. Tor also believed that in that city of pirates and privateers he would be able to recruit a new coast guard for Reign that could drive off the menaces harassing commercial shipping. He led the companions swiftly out of the city and to the village of Codswallow, where a fishing smack was commissioned to swiftly take them to the southern city. Tor only hoped they would arrive in time to prevent the evil relic from being used to damage that city’s already debased culture even further.

As Tor awoke in New Socket, the sunlight broke over the horizon in the northeast and a golden light filled the sky. Tor knelt down to ask for forgiveness for his many failures to fulfill the duty he gladly accepted. He felt so keenly the need for guidance and insight into his path forward. The people of Reign, and the broader world, so desperately needed the light of justice and Tor knew that he had to be a part of restoring that light. It was in that moment that he heard a cry in the sky above him. He looked up and was blinded by the light of the sun breaking over the mountains east of New Socket and saw the form of a mighty raptor outlined against the sun. He knew that he must seek out this sign and find its meaning. He quickly saddled his horse and rode out to the East, leaving a swiftly-jotted note to Mayumi and a silent promise to return before his carousing companions awoke at the break of noon.

Sir Tor

City of Reign williamastrange williamastrange