Italicized descriptive text here. There should be no hyperlinks in this section.

Pip Level 5

Male gnome wizard 6
N small humanoid (gnome)
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; Perception +0


AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 11 (+2 Dex, +1 size)
hp 34 (6d6+12)
Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +4


Speed 20 ft.
Melee unarmed strike +0 (1d2 nonlethal)
Wizard Spells Prepared (CL 5th; concentration +9)

3rd–3+1 prepared (DC 17)
2nd–4+1 prepared (DC 16)
1st–4+1 prepared (DC 15)
0 (will)–4 selected (DC 14)
Arcane School Conjuration (Teleportation); Opposition Schools Illusion, Necromancy


Str 6, Dex 14, Con 15, Int 18, Wis 10, Cha 18
Base Atk +2; CMB -1; CMD 11
Feats Augment Summoning, Brew PotionB, Combat Casting, Empowered Summoning, Scribe ScrollB
Traits Dangerously Curious
Skills Appraise +4 (+7 if raven within reach) [4int], Bluff +9 [5ranks+4cha], Intimidate +9 [5ranks+4cha], Knowledge (arcana) +12 [5ranks+4int+3class], Knowledge (history) +8 [1ranks+4int+3class], Knowledge (local) +8 [1ranks+4int+3class], Knowledge (planes) +9 [2ranks+4int+3class], Spellcraft +12 [5ranks+4int+3class], Use Magic Device +13 [5ranks+4cha+3class+1trait]
Languages common, 4 others
SQ arcane bond (familiar), shift 10 ft (9/day), cantrips


Battle Gear

Useable in combat:

Included in stats:

Other Gear and Posessions

Total Cost: –; Remaining Funds: —

Monticello Von Riker is a gnome who has spent most of his life on the easy path to success. His parents, Elric and VIlandra, were very prominent, renown wizards who worked for Lord Mitzari, ruler over the island Galam. In fact it is within the very walls of the castle that Monticello spent those glorious younger years living the life of a noblemen’s child. He wanted for nothing, he was given everything that he could ever dream of or need simply for being the son of such an important figure head as his father.

Elric, also a gnome, is an enchantment wizard who has a collection of artifacts so vast that most red dragons would salivate savagely over the extensive inventory he keeps. With a dash of magic finesse, and a little gnomish know-how Elric had converted a small linen closet in their wing of the castle into a vast, extra-dimensional warehouse to house all the items he’d collected and made over the years. These are in fact why Elric held the status he did in the kingdom. He was in charge of arming the king’s personal guards and army units with enchantments and enchanted items to keep them safe and a peak performance in battle. Elric himself was an avid pacifist, since he is in the running for the oldest gnome alive it is rumored that he has seen enough bloodshed to last a lifetime, and he held no personal affinity towards Lord Mitzari, he’d been removed from the king’s chambers several times for overstepping his bounds in the king’s personal and regal affairs. Given their relationship no one could really understand why Elric chose to assist the king as loyally as he did, least of all Monticello and Vilandra.

Vilandra. If ever there were a miniature vision of beauty personified it is her. She’s a third the age of Elric, but no less talented. Her powers of illusion have been unrivaled, at least within the immediate kingdom region. She served the kingdom by putting on shows with her magic for the local community within the courtyard, and for the royal family themselves on a nightly, if not hourly, basis. She could spin her tales and give live to the most vague illusion to keep the audience captivated and in her thrall. Monticello revered his mother with the utmost love and respect that a living form could give. She was beauty, she was grace, and she was his doorway to the magical world

Given that he was a mischievous little brat, even by gnome standards, it was not long before he tricked his mother into rushing him into training. In all honesty, with the exception of The Event, the prank he pulled to finally get his training started was miraculous. His mother was due to put on a performance for the family, and his father was to lend her five shield guardians to help put on the show. Monticello had snuck into his father’s aptly named “Room of holding” and, with the assistance of a few animated objects and one very intelligent owl that somehow came to nest in the room, he had made the control bands misinterpret the intentions of the wearer. So, instead of putting on a well rehearsed dance number that Vilandra had worked out with the newly clad guardians, there were five animated court jesters bumbling around the stage. Though the show was received as a well acted satire created by Vilandra’s charming imagination, his parents were slightly less than amused, but the hint struck home for his parents. The next morning he found his very own wizard’s spell book along with new robes and fresh parchment and a fountain quill. He was to report to the king’s personal mystic advisor right after breakfast, but in his glee her skipped the meal and flew down the wing of the castle to the training grounds outside.

The advisor, Galin, was a small Halfling male, yet he was still a good foot taller than Monticello. Together they practiced and recited chants, worked to cast illusions, learned how the nature of magic worked, how to utilize it, how to accept it, and how to manifest it. Galin was a veritable wealth of knowledge, and to Monticello it did no good. Oh he learned a lot, and he knew more about magic than most people his age and skill level, but when it came to mastering illusions as his mother had, he found himself falling short time after time. He could muster a small illusion or two, made a magical clone of himself once that was purple skinned, had snakes for hair, and had small, glowing pustules adorning his face. It was everything he wasn’t, and he hated it as such. He felt that this was an omen of some kind, something was telling him that he shouldn’t be doing this, but her yearned so much for the talent and respect that his parents had that he never gave up.

Actually, he did give up. After two years of torture and failure, he realized that he just could not master illusionary spells as well as his mother, and so he met with the advisor and both parents to discuss his future and what school he could master. Since he could not make light of his mother’s school, it was decided that he should try enchantment. So Monticello was given a three day rest period and some reading material to look over and learn for the first day. With renewed excitement he went into the “Room of Holding” and began reading one of his favorite tomes from his family’s past.

This was another one of Monticello’s passions, learning about the past. He loved everything about the forgotten times, no matter how depressingly dark or bedazzling bright the stories were he soaked them up all the same. A particular favorite of his was a story from his mother’s side of the family. Her great-great-great-grandmother, Vilandra for who she was named after, had worked a ritual with one of her husbands, Monticello for which he was named after (although the pairing of names had always threw him off. In fact it was this that made him change his name eventually.) The ritual cast a blessing, or curse depending on interpretation, that each descendant from there on out within the family would become increasingly attractive as the bloodlines passed down. This must be why Monticello turned out to be so handsome and a ladies-gnome. Too bad he was too shy to enjoy the blessing, that must be the curse…

While he was lost within this tome, he heard a crash from several isles down. Startled, he ran to the site to see that his father’s raven figurine had fallen to the floor with a loud thud. He retrieved the raven from the floor and turned it over in his hands. To his amazement the bird was totally unscathed. “Not too shabby birdbeak! You’re pretty durable aren’t you.”

It was this moment that changed Monticello’s life as he knew it from there on, for the figurine became animate and turned its head towards him. “Thanks Midgetto, you’re pretty observant aren’t you?”

For what seemed like an eternity the raven and Monticello just stared at each other. Dumbstruck, it was all Monticello could do to hold the thing still and remember how to breathe. The raven’s keen eyes, so full of intelligence, seemed to be burning into his very being, learning all that it could from his very soul. It creep the living daylights out of him.

“Well, not so talkative now eh? Thinking that this little bird statue has one upped you? Don’t worry, I’m a friend of the family, and just because you’re an absolute failure in the illusion school, you have a choi- WOAH! HEY!”

Monticello let out a scream of horror and threw the bird to the ground where it again landed with a powerful thud. He turned and ran from the room screaming, for the item must surely be some accursed artifact that his father did not mean to hold onto. He ran to warn him of the entity.

Upon returning to the room with his father, and having a talk about invasion of privacy, father and son searched the room to find the figurine. Elric hardly believed the boys story, and who could blame him? Elric knew and cataloged every item in his collection, and the bird in question was a statue that had belonged to his grandfather Mikael the Summoner. The bird had never animated for Elric in the 400 years he had it in his collection, so he was intrigued slightly by his son’s tale.

After a few minutes Monticello found the bird roosting on a new perch. It was a book covered in what appeared to be centuries worth of dust. Elric removed the statue and turned the book over in his hands, emotion brimming the edges of his eyes.

“Son, take a seat. This book is a very special item in our family. Your great-grandfather, Mikael, my father’s father, was a particularly skilled summoning wizard. It was his power alone that had stopped an Illithid many centuries ago. He pulled together all of the creatures serving him and engaged in a 3 day battle with the Mind flayer. The battle was brutal, costing Mikael his faithful companion Razock, his raven familiar, the likeness of which you see in that statue…” Elric had seen something that made him trail off his story.

The raven was animated again, lying on the shelf above us with it’s head peaking over the edge. “Please Elric, do not stop the story short! I love to remember Mikael, he was the greatest friend I have ever known. He is actually why I stand here before you know, I, Razock, familiar and friend to Mikael the Summoner. You see, it was he that used the last of his potent magic to give me eternal life, asking that I remain with the Von Riker family and watch over his lineage and choose a new master from them.” Again the raven peered at Monticello for an uncomfortable amount of time.

With the raven now showing himself in his true form, he began telling Elric and Monticello that the boy had strong magic, really strong, the type the bards would sing about for ages. The raven, having been with a master of summoning for many centuries, could sense the same energy flowing through Monticello that had flown through Mikael, and as such decided it was Monticello that he should serve, as well as teach. The spellbook of Mikael was given to Monticello and he began his studies…

Some thirty years later, Monticello was a strong summoner adept, learning all that he could from the advisor Galin as well as Razock. Taking his time to perfect every little detail about the creatures he summoned, Monticello began using his natural abilities to speak with all the creatures and learn what the could from their homes and their pasts. He loved to listen so much that from time to time his summoning would wear out and return the creature long before he accomplished the task set for him. Both raven and Halfling became increasingly annoyed by this and insisted he quit. But you know gnomes, once they know something annoys you, that is only more of a reason for them to continue right along.

Then, during the winter solstice of that same year, Monticello played a prank that was far too damaging to be ignored. His magic was strong, he helped with the shows of his mother by summoning creatures for the shows and commanding them to do as she wished, though he still had to order them personally. It was during one of these shows that Princess Iflanna, the youngest of the king’s children, at the time a very supple sixteen, took notice of Monticello. They had a passionate fling that lasted most of the solstice, both knowing that it was nothing more than their physical attraction and appetite they were serving, and they served it very, very often.

It was on one such night that the Lord Mitzari happened upon his daughters chambers where she, Monticello, and a very odd looking statue were performing acts of the most erotic fashion one can imagine out of two so young. The response was immediate and without compassion. Monticello was locked away in the dungeons instantly, his spellbook and familiar both taken from him, and he was left there for three days without food or drink. It was on the night of the third day that his parents came running to his cell with a key. He was being freed, but there were conditions to the freedom.

Monticello had to leave the kingdom that night, never to return. His father had fought with the king for days just to not have him executed, so the terms were as good as they were going to get, and even that was fleeting. He stole into the “Room” and grabbed as many artifacts as he could which would help him. Razock assisted him. Then he said goodbye to his family, the only two people in his whole life he had ever truly loved and respected, because he knew they could not leave, nor would he ask them to. He did the crime. He would pay the price.

As he stepped off the raft which had carried him to the shores, he looked back once more upon the horizon of Galam, knowing that never again would he step foot on that land, never again would he watch his mother’s show, or help his father restore some ancient trinket. The life of ease and peace he knew was over, dead.

Monticello lay upon the beach and cried himself to sleep that night.

That was the last anyone ever heard the name Monticello Von Riker. He remained nameless for 2 years, just surviving on the land and summoning creatures to keep him company. He had many adventures during his exile, and took to calling himself Pip after an interesting encounter he’d had with an Ogre. Now he moves on to the city/state/kingdom of _-_-_-_-_-_-_ to meet with an old acquaintance and his companion….

scroll to top