Sigil's Premiere Detective Agency
Paladin/rogue with a psychotic hunger for justice.
Human Paladin/Rogue 5
Ability scores: Str 12, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 15. Alignment: Lawful Good (psychotic branch)
Base saves: Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +1
Skills: Ride, Heal, Sense Motive, Diplomacy, Spot, Listen, Search, Hide, Move Silently, Gather Information, Intimidate.
Feats: Point Blank Shot, Quick Draw, Rapid Reload.
Class features: Aura of good, detect evil, smite evil 2/day, divine grace, lay on hands, aura of courage, divine health, turn undead, special mount, sneak attack +3d6, trapfinding, evasion, trap sense +1, uncanny dodge.
Spells: 3 1st level paladin spells per day. Normally Protection from Evil, Bless Weapon and Bless.
Gear: Mithral shirt, masterwork heavy crossbow. Some other stuff, not sure yet.
More to come!
Jansen Breeze could not be more inappropriately named.
Kicked out of his Prime’s corrupt police force for killing one too many criminals, Breeze spent some time wandering the Outer Planes before finding himself in relative comfort and safety: otherwise known as Sigil, City of Doors.
He is devoted to truth, justice and honour – but his definitions of all three are defined (some would say warped) by the Prime he comes from. Raised to worship Akhtar, a brutal god whose main concern is loyalty, he considers betrayals the worst of all possible crimes, and of these, betrayal of a friend the most heinous. When, shortly before he left his Prime, he was turned over to the local criminal outfit by his partner, he shot his friend in the back of the neck.
He’s now been in Sigil just three months, and he’s already found employment, in the seediest detective agency in town. It’s a job that suits him down to the ground: he’s a loner by nature, and the job gives him plenty of opportunity to work alone, but totally alone, he would be a one-man murder spree…
Jansen Breeze is not ashamed of anything he’s ever done.
He’s not ashamed of leaving home at 15 to join the police force, abandoning his dying mother and childhood sweetheart in the process. He’s not ashamed of shooting murderers in the back, watching fraudsters swing from the gallows, or slitting the throats of traitors he couldn’t convict. He’s not ashamed of killing his best friend.
Born in a tiny village, Jansen was raised by his religious, austere and sometimes brutal father, and his sickly and ineffectual mother. From a young age he felt called by his God to serve in law enforcement, and at 15 he left the village to join the police in a big city far from home. Six months later his mother died; he did not attend the funeral.
He had a sweetheart in the village, but by the time of his mother’s death she had married someone else; since then he has not married, or indeed expressed much interest in women at all. Totally devoted to his work, all his emotional energy was expended on dealing with criminals and with his best friend and partner Mendel Ansken, the only person who could get him to relax and focus on something other than his job.
The police force in Jansen’s city was hopelessly corrupt – possibly Jansen was the only officer in the city who wasn’t, in some way or another, on the make. Mendel was no exception. He was working for one of the city’s biggest mafia bosses, and when Jansen shot a murderer who was too close to the top of the wrong ladder, Mendel kidnapped him and took him to the boss himself for a beating.
Jansen got out bleeding and barely alive. Two days later he staggered to his former friend’s house and shot an arrow into the back of his neck.
What happened between that moment, and the day he woke up, bruised and coughing, in a slum in Sigil, is a mystery. He has fragments of confused memory, dreamlike, impossible and strange, but nothing concrete. Since that day, three months ago, he’s found himself a good detective-agency job and started to make a life for himself.
The route between here and home is entirely obscured; how to get from one to the other, even if he wanted to, is one of life’s great mysteries.