Another cold night in the north. I wander into the village mead hall. Everyone looks up, scowls and turns back to their stew or mead. I take my usual seat, farthest from the hearth, and motion for a meal and drink. Ignored the first time I use an orison to illustrate it would be better to just serve me and be done with it.

Munin is back from his hunt, we nod politely to one another. I healed one of his hunting hounds last season. Since then he’s been positively friendly, in comparison with most at least.

Gabi is entertaining her friends with the usual feats of strength. I wonder if that claw mark from her bear hunt provided an appropriately gruesome scar. I heard the bear ran from her ferocity in the end.

Good folk in general, I’m content to serve my role even if it is only grudgingly acknowledged.

The hall door opens and an extremely large figure steps in. “I need volunteers”, he snarls. It’s a trollborn. What in all the gods names would a trollborn be doing in Skumasbjurk? The room is quiet, the tension is obvious.

Munin steps up, “What kind of volunteers would you be looking for?”

The trollborn, two hands or more taller than Munin, scowls (or was that a grin?), “The kind needed to clear dirt and stone away from ruins to the west.”

“What’s it pay?” Munin doesn’t appear moved by the trollborn’s request.

“Nothing, we’ve been sent to take laborers and thought asking might make things simpler.” Yes, that was definitely a grin.

“Let’s step outside and discuss this proposal of yours” Munin’s hand rests on his ax. That’s never a good sign.

Feeling like I need to give him some kind of encouragement I slip over to him as they leave the hall and grant a quick blessing from Stehl. Now at least he’s not dwarfed by the would be slaver.

Outside the hall, there are four more warriors waiting. Uneven odds but Munin gives a mighty war cry and strikes one down. Doesn’t take long to knock him unconscious and they begin hauling people out of their homes and the mead hall. I’m no match for them so, I run. Cowardice? Maybe, but if I can follow them maybe I can work out a way to free them.

I trail the forced march back to the west. They’re headed to the great mountain in the hills. I can see torches and campfires at the foot of the mountain. A great camp full of warriors and laborers. There seems to be some exposed ruins and much effort is being focused on what appears to be a great gateway.

Suddenly, a huldre appears right next to me. I nearly jump out of my skin!

“What in Fingulf’s name are you doing?” he seems, unaware, of how quiet he moves and just shrugs. Before he can respond further a great sound, like thunder but deep below the roots of the mountain erupts from the camp. After the dust settles it seems like the ancient gate has been broken.

Ignoring the huldre for now I focus on the activity. He seems just as interested. Good, he’s not here to eat me.

A large group of warriors, surrounding an obviously important figure approach the broken gate. The large warrior enters and everything goes quiet as if everyone is holding their breath at the same time.

After a few moments, another great rumble erupts from deep within the ruins. Then a scream turns to a shriek and goes silent again. After a few more heart beats the warrior emerges but changed. His form seems larger and appears to be enshrouded in a liquid metal. The iron moves over his body solidifying into very heavy looking plate mail.

“By all the gods, that has to be the Iron King!” mouth agape I see Munin leaving the camp and some other captives making a break for freedom. The huldre and I move to intercept the group. Last thing I saw of the camp was all the warriors kneeling before the Iron King.

Riding for what seemed forever we stop to catch our breath and figure out our destination. Those of us from Skumasbjurk press to ride for the village. Familiarity, supplies and maybe a place to lay low. The lady, a child and their man servant seem determined to make their way south or to Vil’Chiev. The child keeps mumbling about a foretelling and how we’re all connected and must stay together.

Howls in the distance, pursuit. We have a lead but we’re losing it quickly. While we’re discussing strategy the Lady turns and rides toward the howls. Madness, surely Kar Ternan has stricken this woman. You don’t face a pack on their terms.

Munin, the huldre and I head for the frozen river and make it across. The pack appears, lead by a great Winter Wolf. I’ve heard of the beasts but never witnessed the terror myself.

I call on Magdish’s favor and ready my trusty sling. It’s not much but we have a river between us. A few shots from the Lady, the huldre and myself knock the Mordwynn from the Winter Wolf’s back. More of the foul creatures trail the pack. The lady, child and manservant manage to cross the river and we engage the beasts.

As the Winter Wolf falls Munin manages to shatter the river ice dropping the pack and himself into the freezing river. He retrieves the Winter Wolf carcass and swims ashore.

Now we’re on the south side of the river. Looks like Vil’Chiev it is. Munin and the huldre start skinning the winter wolf. Meat for the trip and quite a pelt for a trophy.

The Lady insists we must speak with the Queen. She’s dressed in some well appointed traveling clothes and wields a very strange looking crossbow.

The child is in robes of some southern order and always talking about signs and portents of the end times; the King of Kings.

Their man servant, well, he’s an odd nut. Dressed in cold gear of southern origin but bearing no obvious weapon I wonder at his usefulness in the wilderness.

The huldre is apparently a warrior sent to investigate the strange alliance of wildmen and alfar.

I’m an odd bird in a strange land even though I was born to this village. My mother was a raid bride from the south. My father was a typical Ros-man looking to earn glory and wealth through strength and blood as a raider.

My mother, too frail for the frigid northern climate, died the winter after my birth. The following spring my father fell during a raid never to return. With no family this left me to be raised by the village. The shaman provided me with shelter and guidance. My childhood was mostly punctuated by beatings at the hands of other children and barely contained scorn from nearly every adult.

You see, I stood a full hand shorter than the other boys my age, my skin and hair were darker, I never excelled at battle and none of the pretty girls ever chose me to dance on festival days. I did seem to have a knack for outsmarting people, even most of the adults. This earned me more than a few beatings as making someone look like a fool, while satisfying in the moment, tends to bite you in the arse later.

Deep in the night on my eighteenth season something happened. Voices, barely heard, as if in another room, mumbling, murmuring and finally disturbing enough to wake me. It wasn’t a dream, the voices were real. They sounded angry, almost like a mead hall brawl. Then I heard my name, as if they suddenly noticed I was in the room. It became more urgent as if all of them wanted my attention at once. Then, as I began to scream, small items from shelves and tables started to fall to the floor almost like someone were nudging them off their perches. The voices got louder.

When the shaman burst into the room with a candle; silence. He looked bewildered at the mess in my room and the fright that was obvious on my face. We stayed up till dawn, prayed for guidance and discussed the events. It seems I was to become an Oracle. The voices were apparently of people long past that wanted to send messages to their loved ones. With time and much patience I started to chronicle some of the voices and stories. I tried to pass one of the messages along but the family accused me to trying to hex them and set their dogs on my heels.

The visitors made quite the mess as they exhausted their patience attempting to get their messages to me. I decided that perhaps it would be better to isolate myself to keep the damage to a minimum and save myself the hex wards every time someone happened to glance my way. I found myself living in a fairly well appointed abandoned wolf den just outside of town. Ok, it was a hollow log with the barest of amenities, but it was mine.

Some times the voices became apparitions and we would sit and discuss their life and how they died. Some were from the village but most were just Tey Ros spirits drawn by my strange ability to see and hear them. There were a few outlanders but many of them didn’t seem to realize they were dead.

As my abilities grew the shaman taught me how to cast spells. Another skill at which I apparently excelled. He told me that perhaps the celestial events during my birth were a foretelling instead of a curse. Too bad that revelation couldn’t have come sooner.

Many, many years ago one of our game masters created his own fantasy setting based on the Open Gaming License 3rd Ed D&D material and then update it to the Pathfinder 1st Ed rules.

Lynnyr is a broad, sweeping fantasy setting with no obvious baggage from established campaign settings. We have adventured across this setting several times since its inception with mixed results and many memories.

We are once again setting out in Lynnyr. This time we’re coming out of the frigid Cold Lands north of the more civilized kingdoms. Thus far we have an oracle, a barbarian, a slayer, a fighter, an inquisitor and a monk. All but the last two are natives of the Cold Lands with the fighter being an Ice Alfar (elf). Everyone else is some flavor of human.

I set out on the journey as Artair Aerodan, a Battle Oracle. I’m trying to model his personality after Floki from the Vikings series on the History channel.

We reached second level and I decided to toss in a level of Sorcerer (Boreal). These two classes track the same primary ability, charisma, so the benefits of arcane and divine spell casting seemed obvious. After forecasting up to 10th level (4th level per class plus two levels of Mystic Theurge) the benefits stack up nicely.

Character background sums up as: Child of a raid bride, mother dies, father killed on subsequent raid so now an orphan. Grows up as an outcast living just outside the village, bullied by native children for being weaker, shorter and darker skinned. His oracle powers emerge along with the associated haunted curse making him even more strange and avoided. Artair was eventually taken under the village shaman’s tutelage to learn more about his life path as an oracle.

Artair is devoted to the Cold Pantheon and asserts divine signs and portents in everyday life and events. He is also fiercely loyal to the people of his village even though they would not show him the same loyalty. This loyalty extends more broadly to the Tey Ros people of the Cold Lands.

Artair knows the barbarian and slayer as they’re from the same village. They’re not great friends but are aware of each other’s existence. The Ice Alfar is an unknown but seems just as confused and bewildered as the rest. The Inquisitor and Monk are outlanders with unknown goals, different beliefs and intolerant of the frigid conditions of the Cold Lands.

I’m playing a Human Bloodrager in our current game. It’s essentially a Sorcerer mixed with a Barbarian. All the Rage powers are enhanced with Sorcerous bloodline magic. I selected the draconic bloodline so when I activate the Rage feature my character manifests some cool dragon stuff like claws and breath weapons.

We’ve reached 9th level and I’ve been looking for a prestige class option to move forward. A prestige class is really just supposed to solidify your character’s role in the party and help you build the character’s story. The problem is that the core prestige classes were all created long before the existence of the Bloodrager class and there’s really no other options that mesh with it online or otherwise.

In my case, because i chose the draconic bloodline, the Dragon Disciple looked promising but it was geared solely toward sorcerers. Here is my first pass at creating a more universal draconic prestige class for the Pathfinder campaign setting.

Draconic Scion


Savage ancestry can empower greatness in those that embrace it. Draconic blood mingled with that of mere mortals provides a pathway to evolution into something greater and more powerful. Living in the savage frontiers and untamed wilds barbarian tribes produce some of the most fierce and powerful warriors known. Those with the blood of dragons often rise to become powerful leaders.


Draconic Scions seek to empower their draconic heritage in the quest to evolve past their mortal shell or defend their tribe or clan. A scion continues to evolve toward true dragon status by embracing and enhancing their existing bloodline. This empowerment alters them physically and provides a spark of longevity found in their draconic ancestor.


A Draconic Scion’s alignment tends toward their draconic influence but because they started the journey a mere mortal their path is their own. Tendencies toward law and chaos are strongly influenced. Good or evil depends wholly on the Scion’s background and life experiences.

Hit Die

Scions benefit from their heritage and use a d12 to bolster their hit point total.


  • Class Feature: Draconic Bloodline, Draconic Rage Powers. Bloodragers, Sorcerers, Skalds and Barbarians often embrace their ancestry to become Draconic Scions.
  • Race: Any non-dragon.
  • Skills: Knowledge (Arcana) 9 ranks
  • Language: Draconic

Class Skills

Appraise, Diplomacy, Bluff, Fly, Intimidate, Knowledge (Arcana, Geography, History & Nature), Perception, Sense Motive and Spellcraft.

Ranks per level: 6 + Int modifier per level.

Table: Draconic Scion

Level BAB Fort Ref Will Special Spells per Day
1st 0 1 0 1 Blood of Dragons, Draconic Evolution
2nd 1 1 1 1 Bloodline Feat, Draconic Evolution +1 existing spellcasting class
3rd 2 2 1 2 Draconic Evolution +1 existing spellcasting class
4th 3 2 1 2 Draconic Evolution +1 existing spellcasting class
5th 3 3 2 3 Bloodline Feat, Draconic Evolution
6th 4 3 2 3 Draconic Evolution +1 existing spellcasting class
7th 5 4 2 4 Draconic Evolution , Dragon From (1/day) +1 existing spellcasting class
8th 6 4 3 4 Bloodline Feat, Draconic Evolution +1 existing spellcasting class
9th 6 5 3 5 Draconic Evolution
10th 7 5 3 5 Draconic Aging, Draconic Evolution, Dragon From (2/day) +1 existing spellcasting class

Class Features

Weapon & Armor Proficiency

Draconic scions gain no additional weapon or armor proficiencies.

Spells per Day

At the indicated levels, a draconic scion gains new spells per day as if he had also gained a level in a spellcasting class to which he belonged before adding the prestige class. He does not, however, gain other benefits a character of that class would have gained, except for additional spells per day, spells known (if he is a spontaneous spellcaster), and an increased effective level of spellcasting. If a character had more than one arcane spellcasting class before becoming a draconic scion, he must decide to which class he adds the new level for purposes of determining spells per day.

Non-spellcasting draconic scions do not gain spells or spellcasting abilities.

Blood of Dragons

A draconic scion adds his level to his qualifying class levels when determining the powers gained from his bloodline/rage power.

If the draconic scion does not have levels of bloodrager/sorcerer/skald/barbarian, he instead gains bloodline powers of the draconic bloodline using the draconic scion level as his level to determine the bonuses gained.

If not already determined, the character must choose a dragon type upon gaining his first level in this class. If a dragon type has already been selected then draconic scion uses the existing selection.

This ability does not grant bonus spells to a spellcasting class unless they possess spell slots of an appropriate level. Such bonus spells are automatically granted if they gain spell slots of the spell’s level. Non-spellcasting draconic scions do not gain spells or spellcasting abilities.

Bloodline Feat

Upon reaching 2nd level, and every three levels thereafter, a draconic scion receives one bonus feat, chosen from the draconic bloodline’s bonus feat list.

Draconic Evolution

As a Draconic Scion advances, the power flowing from their dragon heritage becomes more prevalent. Each level a Draconic Scion can select a single evolutionary gift. Most gifts can be taken multiple times providing increased effects as noted in their description.

  • Natural Armor Increase (Ex)
    As his skin thickens, a draconic scion takes on more and more of his progenitor’s physical aspect. A draconic scion gains an increase to the character’s existing natural armor (if any). This gift can be taken up to three times. These armor bonuses stack. The draconic scion’s skin becomes covered with scales colored like their Bloodline dragon type.
  • Ability Boost (Ex)
    As a draconic scion gains levels, his ability scores increase. These increases stack and are gained as if through level advancement. This gift can be taken up to 4 times granting a +2 bonus each time. No single ability score can receive more than a single increase.
  • Dragon Bite (Ex)
    Whenever the draconic scion uses his bloodline to grow claws, he also gains a bite attack. This is a primary, natural attack that deals 1d6 points of damage (1d4 if the draconic scion is Small), plus 1–1/2 times the draconic scion’s Strength modifier. Selecting this gift a second time bestows an additional 1d6 points of energy damage. The type of energy damage dealt is determined by the draconic scion’s bloodline.
  • Breath Weapon (Su)
    A draconic scion gains the breath weapon bloodline power, even if his level does not yet grant that power. Once his level is high enough to grant this ability through the bloodline, the draconic scion gains an additional use of his breath weapon each day. The type and shape of the breath weapon depends on the type of dragon selected by the draconic scion, as detailed under the Draconic sorcerer bloodline description. Taking this gift multiple times increases the number of times the breath weapon can be used each day.
  • Darkvision (Ex)
    The draconic scion gains darkvision with a range of 30 feet. Selecting this gift a second time increases the range of this ability to 60 feet.
  • Blindsense (Ex)
    The draconic scion gains blindsense with a range of 30 feet. Selecting this gift a second time increases the range of this ability to 60 feet.
  • Wings (Su)
    The draconic scion gains the wings bloodline power, even if his level does not yet grant that power. Selection of this gift a second time either increases maneuverability to good (+4) or increases flight speed to 90 feet.

Dragon Form (Sp)

At 7th level, a draconic scion can assume the form of a dragon. This ability works like form of the dragon I. At 10th level, this ability functions as form of the dragon II and the draconic scion can use this ability twice per day. The caster level for this effect is equal to his effective spell casting levels for his draconic bloodline. Whenever he casts form of the dragon, he must assume the form of a dragon of the same type as his bloodline.

Draconic Aging (Su)

At 10th level a Draconic Scion ceases to age like a normal member of their native race. Their natural age categories are doubled for calculating age effects. Refer to Table 7-2: Aging Effects found on page 169 of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook.

My original concept was that this sub-race of Elf has been corrupted as they turned their back on ‘traditional’ avenues to power and began fusing their bloodlines with draconic energies. This stirred an ancient serpent deity that began manipulating the now ‘dark’ elves into its service.

Vrael’Olo are the result of elves being corrupted by insidious influences to the point that they have developed a significant affinity with serpents. This affinity has replaced some of the typical elf traits with strange adaptations and mutations.

Vrael’Olo value their privacy and traditions, their only interaction with other civilizations is as conquerors, assassins and slavers. Vrael’Olo seek power and influence over other races they cannot overcome by force. They are adept infiltrators and masters of mis-information.

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