[sblock=Ingwë Melwasúl]
In-Gwee-Aye Me-lwaa-sool
ĭn-gûē-ě mě-lûä-sûl
Male Elven Druid
Alignment: N
Abilities: (30)
STR - 14 (6 Points)
DEX - 16 (6 Points) + 2 Racial
CON - 12 (6 Points) – 2 Racial
INT - 10 (2 Points)
WIS - 16 (10 Points)
CHA - 8 (0 Points)
HP: 8+1 = 9
Speed: 30ft (50ft while shapeshifted)
Initiative: +3
AC: 15 (+2 Armor +3 Dex)
AC while Shapeshifted: 19 (+2 Armor + 3 Dex + 4 NA)
Saves:
Fort: 3
Reflex: 3
Will: 5
Melee/Ranged/Grapple: +2/+3/+2
Weapons:
Spear (Melee) +2 1d8+3 x3
Spear (Ranged) +3 1d8+2 x3 Range: 20ft
Weapon Under Shapeshift
Bite/Claw/Slam +4 1d6+4 x2
Class Abilities:
Nature Sense
Wild Empathy
Shapeshifter
Spontaneous Rejuvenation
-Grant allies and self within 30’ fast healing based on spell level sacrificed
Racial Abilities:
Low-Light Vision
+2 Skill Listen, Spot, Search
+2 Dex, -2 Con
Immunity to magic sleep effects
+2 Saving Throw bonus versus enchantment spells or effects
Favored Class: Wizard
Skills:
Listen – 9 (4 Ranks + 3 Wis + 2 Racial)
Spot – 9 (4 Ranks + 3 Wis + 2 Racial)
Concentration – 1 (0 Ranks + 1 Con)
Diplomacy – -1 (0 Ranks – 1 Con)
Heal – 3 (0 Ranks + 3 Wis)
Knowledge Nature – 4 (4 Ranks + 0 Int)
Ride – 3 (0 Ranks + 3 Dex)
Spellcraft – 4 (4 Ranks + 0 Int)
Survival – 3 (0 Ranks + 3 Wis)
Swim – 2 (0 Ranks + 2 Str)
Feats:
Natural Spell
Languages:
Elven
Druidic
Common
Equipment: Cost Weight
Worn:
Leather 10gp 3lb
Back:
Backpack 2gp 2lb
In/On Backpack:
Bedroll 1sp 5lb
Flint and Steel 1gp 0
Waterskin (Water) 1gp 4lb
Trail Rations (10 days worth) 5gp 10lb
Money:
Emperor's - 0
Royal's - 103
Crona's - 9
Kopec's - 0
Spells:
Save DC:
Orisons – 13
1st Level – 14
Spells per day (With bonus):
Orisons – 3
1st Level – 2
[sblock=Physical Appearance]
Ingwe looks almost feral at times, with a wild streak in his eye. He is tall and sturdy for an elf, looking much like an adolescent human male. He has strong shoulders and deep brown eyes, looking almost black. His long, straight hair is unkempt, looking quite disheveled at times. The top of his right ear has been partially severed, leaving him with a dulled point. When he shifts, he assumes the form of a wolf with a thick, brown coat. He looks average and unassuming (as much as a wolf can), quite indistinguishable but for the same scar on the right ear.
Age: 150
Height: 5’3”
Weight: 135
Eyes: Deep Brown
Hair: Dark Brown
Skin: Tanned[/sblock]
[sblock=Background]
Ingwe was born into a grove of druids. This small-numbered sect formed a tight-knit family, in which the children were raised by the community; parental duties were shared by all. In practicing this method, Ingwe has no strong bond to any individual members of his group, neither his biological parents nor anybody else. However, he did grow up having a strong connection with his pack, as he liked to refer them. Together they would hunt together, roaming the woods of Callarh, living off the land. It wasn’t until Ingwe reached maturity that his druidic skills really took shape, but to the shock of his extended family, and himself, he was never able to harness the ability to summon a creature to his aid. Instead, when he tried to tap into the source, he would emit a radiating pulse of healing power. Ingwe accepted this substitute as a welcome, but unfortunately, during one particularly frustrating session to call upon the aid of nature, his concentration wavered and soon found himself transformed into the beast itself. His grove was shocked at this apparent disregard for order and how things work. Only after tested experience can a druid shape forms, not before, not untested and naïve.
In time, the alienation became more pronounced and Ingwe soon was distanced to the back of the pack. His abilities to summon never manifested, nor did his niche with the grove become apparent, and soon he was the brunt of all their jests, a mockery. On one foray inside the Barony of Kelvin, a disagreement erupted between Ingwe and another young druid in good standing. The younger druid attacked him and in defense, Ingwe shifted into a wolf and fled. A shaped-elder chased after him and caught him soon, confronting him on the edge of the woodlands themselves. He slashed at Ingwe with a powerful bear-claw, catching him across the ear and dragging across his maw. No words were exchanged, just a steely glare that informed everything. Ingwe understood, and turning around, exited the woods in a land he knew naught.
At the River Fork near Duke’s Road a fishing barge spotted this dirty teen boy, congealed blood across the right side of his face and wild black hair. Upon approaching him and offering a ride up the Windrush Branch, they were shocked to see that this was not in fact a man, but an elf, an elf with a bizarre language and hardly a handle on elvish, but broken enough in order to be understood. Over the course of a few weeks, traveling up-river with these well-tanned men, Ingwe was able to gather some common knowledge, a small grasp of the common tongue. But he was never comfortable with the water underfoot, and upon reaching the roughened frontier town of Threshold took his leave with the hopes to find some life for him, an uncultured, unknowing, elf with hardly enough skill to consider himself a druid.
[/sblock]
[sblock=Personality]
He is aware, but appears to be simple, merely he is just in tune with himself, very centered. He knows he isn’t wise in the ways of the world, but he cares for those who care for him. Often times he will remain in his wolf state, just to avoid the social awkwardness, and he has no reservations about appearing as someone’s pet.[/sblock][/sblock]