Atari Battleheart, Savior of the Light

Female invoker


AC: 22 HP: 55 Bloodied: 27 Value: 14 Surges: 9 Fort: 18 Ref: 16 Will: 20 Speed: 6 (5) Init: +3 P. Insight: 25 P.Perception: 18

Str: 9 Con: 16 Dex: 10 Int: 12 Wis: 20 Cha: 12

Features: Channel divinity, divine covenant, covenant of wrath, Ritual casting

Feats: Ritual caster, invoker defence, mark of storm, light within, toughness, implement expertise (rod)

Skills: Trained: history 9, insight 15, intimidate 13, religion 9 Other: acrobatics 2, arcana 4, athletics 1, bluff 4, diplomacy 4, dungeoneering 8, endurance 5, heal 8, nature 8, perception 8, stealth 4, streetwise 4, theivery 2

At-will: Divine bolts, vanguards lightning

Enounter: second wind, bastion of mental clarity, armour of wrath, lightning’s revalation, rebuke undead, knives of the soul, light within, invoke obedience

Daily: binding invocation of chains, lamentation of the wicked

Utility: shroud of warning, symbol of hope

Rituals: hand of fate, water walk, conceal dragon mark, iron vigil

Weapons: Rod of obliterating wrath +2

Armour: Summoned finemail +2

Misc: counterstrike gaurds, boots of stealth, gauntlets of blood, amulet of life, belt of vigor Ritual book, sanctified insence, adventurers kit, everburning torch


A small girl ran from the bandits as they burned and pillaged the defenceless mountain village. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father fall, clothes showing signs of blood from the crude arrows protruding from his torso. Feeling nothing but fear and terror she ran towards him her screams drowned by the noise of the chaos. She fell to her knees to aid him but could do nothing as her father took his last breath. Everything became blurry as she stood; stumbling mindlessly through the confusion. A hooded figure approached her, a flash of light and immense pain seared through her abdomen. Looking down at the cold iron thrust into her stomach. A scream but no noise came. Not remebering falling to the ground, only staring up at the dark clouds rolling in, springing forth a torrent of rain. Her hands grasping at her wound feeling only a sticky wetness. Suddenly she could only see as if it was her only sense. Every blink of her eye became a picture burnt into her memory. Until she could no longer keep them open, with closed eyes, she could her every last sound. The screams, the terror, Atari could no longer imagine the horror of what was happening around her. A clap of thunder deafened her, a brilliant light burned through her closed eyelids. A new found pain came from her arm. No sound came to her ears. Only the smell of burnt flesh lingered in her nostrils as she took her last heaving breaths.

Time seemed to have stopped. No pain. No fear. Only a brilliant light. A sense of wonderment and awe. A voice spoke but there was no comprehension. Only duty. A mandate to serve the light.

Atari woke to see the ceiling of the temple. A healer was tending to her. White sheets draped about the room. The scent of insence filled the large room; a distraction from the lingering stench in her nostrils.

Atari was brought back to life by the remaining village healers, that had escaped. The invaders had killed and taken what they had wanted. Lord Karn, Atari’s father, had been head of the Order of Light. Killed in the fight, the next in the Order had taken charge aiding the wounded and cleaning the rubble. Seeing the bolt from the sky that had struck Atari, the now head cleric, ran to her. Taking her lifeless body running to the woods to the springs. Hiding in the deep forest, Kaland (now high cleric) prayed to Il-Yannah for salvation while finding the herbs andusing clean water to cleanse the wound. Once the noise had subsided her took her back to the temple. As he laid her on the floor a beam of light shone throug the broken window, Atari awoke.

Atari’s following years were spent learning the ways of the clergy along with learning to invoke powers of wrath. Never to lift a weapon of iron, using only the natural reborn power of wrath of Il-Yannah to be used only against those that oppose the Light. Along with rituals to aid her in her battle, going weeks without food or water, developing endurance that most battle hardened soldiers faint and falter.

On her 23rd year she decided to leave the Order to bring Light to the world.

Atari Battleheart is small statured, graceful and serene. Calm facial features yet with wild, untamed look when gazing into her eyes. Usually adorning a long light gray cloak with minimal clothing summoning her finemail armour while in combat. Her abdomin remains uncovered, showing her enemies the scar of her death wound. Overcoming death once, a reminder to all of what she has already overcome. A small pack hidden under her cloak she carries only her rod of obliterating wrath. Calm and serene normally, while in battle letting a tempest within unleash against her enemies. Her companions include a faithful paladin, mysterious assassin, powerful warlord, raging barbarian and dark warlock.

Atari Battleheart, Savior of the Light

The Half-Breed King bifphistopheles