Airwalkrr's Shackled City Rogue's Gallery
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  1. #1
    Guide (Lvl 11)

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    Airwalkrr's Shackled City Rogue's Gallery

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  2. #2
    Simon Sinople

    Stat Block

    Male Human Dread Necromancer 1
    Lawful-Neutral Medium Humanoid (human)
    6'2", 215 lbs., Red hair, brown eyes

    Str 13(+1)
    Dex 14(+2)
    Con 15(+2)
    Int 15(+2)
    Wis 13(+1)
    Cha 16(+3)

    Fort: +2, Ref: +2, Will: +3

    Hit Points: 8 (1d6+2)
    Init +6
    Spd 30 ft/x4;
    AC 16 (+4 armor, +2 dex), touch 12, flat-footed 14;

    Base Atk/Grapple +0/+1
    Greataxe: +1 Two-handed (1d12+1; 20/x3)
    Dagger: +1 One-handed (1d4+1;1 9-20/x2)
    Charnel Touch: +1 One-handed Touch (1d8 Negative; 20/x2)

    Heavy Crossbow: +2 Two-handed (1d10;19-20/x2)

    Trained Skills
    • Bluff: +7 (4 ranks +3 Chr)
    • Concentration: +6 (4 ranks +2 Con)
    • Knowledge (arcana): +6 (4 ranks +3 Int)
    • Knowledge (religion): +6 (4 ranks +2 Int)
    • Spellcraft: +6 (4 ranks +2 Int)
    • Spell Focus: Necromancy (1st level)
    • Improved Initiative (1st level Human bonus)
    Dread Necromancer Abilities
    • Turn Undead(Su): Can turn undead 6 times per day. A turning check is made on 1d20+3; turning damage is equal to 2d6+4 on a successful check.
    • Charnel Touch (Su): 1/round at will, as a melee touch attack, attack a living foe and 1d8 points of Negative Energy damage. This touch heals undead, and can be delivered through a spectral hand spell.

    1st Level: (4/Day)
    • Greataxe (20 GP)
    • Dagger (2 gp)
    • Heavy Crossbow (50 GP)
      • Quiver of 10 Bolts (1 GP)
      • Sleep Bolt
    • Chain Shirt (100 GP)
    • Backpack (2 GP)
      • Potion of Cure Light Wounds
      • Bedroll (1 SP)
      • Waterskin (1 GP)
      • 3 days Trail Rations (15 SP)
      • Empty Sack (1 SP)
      • 3 Sunrods (6 GP)
      • 5 Tindertwigs (5 GP)
    • 10 GP, 5 SP

    Character History

    Simon Sinople was born dead. He took his first, shuddering breath a good fifteen minutes after he came into this world, as his mother wept over what she thought was her baby's corpse.

    It was, in retrospect, inevitable -- or so the whispers of the neighbors had it. Everyone hears the stories, knows that the 13th son of a 13th son is both doomed and damned, but often is such a child born, even in lands as prosperous as those of Cauldron?

    Damned or no, Simon grew up as a fairly ordinary child. Bright, friendly, always willing to lend a hand when asked. He got into his fair share of trouble, but no more than any other child. Only his unusual pallor marked him as being in any way unusual, and once it became clear that sunlight caused him no distress? Most managed to forget the ominous omens of his birth, and convinced themselves that the old stories were nothing more than that.

    Simon was sixteen when that changed. He'd gotten into a fight with Adaric Miller, over a girl, of course, and the two of them were brawling in a manner entirely typical of two teenaged boys who were normally good friends. Adaric was either luckier or clumsier than his wont that day, and managed to break Simon's nose with one of his frantic punches.

    Simon doesn't remember being angry, when he thinks back. Not the usual sort of anger, at least. This was a cold and righteous fury, unlike anything he'd ever known before. He felt his body grow cold; the heat of the blood running down his face was like boiling water. And as Adaric stuttered out his apologies, Simon's hand reached out of its own accord and clenched around the boy's left arm.

    That's when Adaric started screaming.

    His arm was left twisted and withered by Simon's touch; fifteen years later, and it still hangs useless at his side.

    That's when the whispers started up again. Accompanied by glares this time, and thrown stones on more than a few occasions. Simon left a few weeks later, in the dead of night. He'd heard the stories himself by this time, the ones that had never before been told in his presence. He knew what people thought he was, he knew that they were wrong about him, and he was going to prove it.

    They weren't wrong, or so the priests of Wee Jas told him. The 13th son of a 13th son is doomed to become something neither entirely alive nor wholly dead, a thing that thrives upon and commands necrotic power. Simon understood, and reluctantly believed, their words...but he refused to accept that he had no control over his own destiny.

    He went on the road, constantly moving from place to place, learning what he could about his curse along the way. Simon discovered how much power he really had, and how it could be used, and grew ever stronger in his determination that he would control this power, and not vice-versa.

    Simon did what good he could, over the years. He saved a few lives, killed a few bandits, learned more than a few secrets. He's got friends now, all throughout the Cauldron region, although none of them truly understand the source of his power. He avoids Hollowsky, though, even now. He probably always will. He'll not take the risk of seeing his family again.

    Of late, Simon's dreams have been troubling him. Something is coming, something awful, and it's been calling to him with increasing urgency. Opposing this force, whatever it may be, is clearly his only choice right now....


    Tall and stocky, tending towards stoutness (to be charitable), Simon tends to dress as well as he can afford, favoring rich embroidery and deep greens and reds. He flatly refuses to wear black, considering it beneath his dignity.

    His skin is unusually pale for a man who spends so much time in the sun, and his red hair and beard are long enough to give him a slight resemblance to a lion. His eyes are brown, with occasional flickers of sickly green when reflecting light.


    Open and friendly, oftentimes to a fault -- Simon has a tendency to be overly familiar with new acquaintances, treating them as though he's known them for years.

    He follows a strict and self-imposed code of honor; if someone with honest intentions asks him for help, he will give it or die trying.

    Simon considers himself to be a follower of Wee Jas, driven mainly by a thirst for knowledge, but he makes a point of offering prayers to any of the more benevolent gods when presented an opportunity. "Can't hurt," he tells himself.
    Last edited by Bohemian Ear-Spork; Monday, 3rd November, 2008 at 08:11 PM.

  3. #3

    Goran Nalthic Ftr1/Clr1

    Goran Nalthic
    Stat Block

    Goran Nalthic CR 1 (0 xp)
    Male Dwarf Fighter/Priest (Kord) 1/1
    CG Medium humanoid
    Init +1; Senses Listen +2, Spot +2
    Languages Common, Dwarven, Celestial
    AC 17, touch 11, flat-footed 17
    hp: 11 (1d8+3) (1 HD)
    Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +3
    Spd 20 ft.
    Melee: +3 (1d8+3/x3 Battleaxe)
    Ranged: +1 (1d6+3/2/10ft Throwing axe)
    Base Atk +0; Grp +3
    Combat Possessions: Potion of CLW
    Abilities Str 17, Dex 12, Con 16, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11
    SQ 60’ Darkvision; +2 to all saves vs spells and spell-like effects and poisons; Stonecunning; +2 to all Craft skill checks with metal or stone; +2 to all Appraise checks that have to do with stone or metal items; +1 to all Attack rolls against orcs and goblinoid creatures; +4 Dodge bonus against Giants.
    Class Features Proficient with all Simple and Martial Weapons and all types of Armor and Shields, including Tower Shields; Can cast divine spells; Turn Undead; Spontaneous Casting of Cure spells; Cannot cast Evil spells; Strength Domain Perform a feat of strength as a supernatural ability (enhancement bonus equal to cleric level and effect lasts one round/once per day); Good Domain: Cast Good spells at +1 caster level.

    Regional Trait: Touched in the Head
    Your mind is disorganized and chaotic. You gain a +1 bonus on all saving throws against mind-affecting effects, save for those effects that cause confusion or insanity.
    Your inability to concentrate for long makes you suffer a –1 penalty on all Wisdom-based skill checks.

    Feats: Earth Sense

    Skills : Concentration +5, Heal +5, Knowledge (Arcana) +3, Knowledge (Religion) +3, Spellcraft +3

    Possessions: MW Steel Light Shield (+1 AC/-0 AC Penalty), Chainmail (+5 AC/-5 AC Penalty), Holy Symbol, silver (Kord), Backpack w/*crowbar (+2 Str check for opening things), *bedroll, mug, *Aleskin

    *=inside pack

    Coins: 1gp, 8sp,cp


    L1->Fighter1/Priest 1 HP: 11 (1d8+3); SP: 12 (2+1) x4 ); BAB +0; Fort +1, Ref +0, Will +1

    Feats: Earth Sense: Benefit: As long as you are touching the ground, you can take a move action to sense the number of creatures within 20 feet that are also touching the ground and the direction to each one. You cannot pinpoint the location of any creature with this feat.

    Skills: Concentration +2, Heal +4, Knowledge (Arcana) +2, Knowledge (Religion) +2, Spellcraft +2

    “So you want to hear my tale do you? It must be a slow night at the Tankard if you think there is anything of interest about me, but if you are willing to keep my tankard full, I am willing to tell you a tale of betrayal, sorrow and redemption, but perhaps only in the eyes of one.”

    “What’s that? You think you humans hold the throne for being able to turn a good life into a chamber pot? You know nothing of clan life lad, and I doubt even if I sat here with you a fortnight you would truly understand. My people are a proud race, quick to anger at a slight and should you truly do more than irritate them, they can lash out with all the fiery passion that the All Father put inside our breast. It is this that gives them their strength, the will to press onwards when others fall to the side, in short lad; it is what makes them a dwarf. It also sadly makes many of my kind as stubborn as the granite that the All Father carved the first dwarf out of when he wanted children of his own.”

    “What’s that lad? You want to know why I do not place myself among them? Who said I didn’t? I just happen to have been given a gift that the All Father never planned on me discovering, the ability to say no. Wipe that confused look off your face and order us another round and I will tell you what I mean.”

    “My father was a priest of the All Father, as was his father before him, and his father before him and when I was born; it was already decided that I would follow in their footsteps as well. Hell lad, even my name means “Honored Champion” in our tongue. Get that surprised look off your face, you think us champions are not allowed ale, even one weaker than a baby’s piss like this is? Oh, you mean why is it Kord’s medallion around my neck instead of the Hammer of the All Father? Like I said lad, I learned to say no.”

    “Do you know what it is like to close your eyes and feel the earth beneath you? To be able to sense when someone is treading upon it near you, even if you do not know exactly where, you can feel them all the same? I do lad, it was the first manifestation of the All Father’s blessing upon me and to my clan it all but assured me a place at the celestial forge where the faithful return when they die. Yet here I sit, knowing that when the day of my last battle arrives, I will not go to the Forge, but to the Arena surrounded by my fellow brethren where we shall no longer know fatigue or injury. I look forward to that day lad, even though it has cost me much, I know it has been worth it.”

    “Redgorge quickly grew too small for my presence the day that I announced I would not be entering the service of the All Father. You would have thought that I announced to the clan that I was taking up Hextor’s banner and planned to burn the city to the ground by the icy stares and turned backs that greeted me as I passed them in the streets. In their minds, I was ignoring a prized gift, one that some of the most devout brothers were not granted, to waste my life away as a simple miner. As I said lad, we are quick to feel a slight, so I grabbed my pack, and told a passing merchant that I would keep watch at night if he gave me food and ale. It was deal he was quick to take, even though he did not know at the time it would the last he ever traded with the dwarves of Redgorge.”

    “Good thinking lad, you beat me to having to tell you refill our glasses. So where was I? Cauldron, our patron and great slumbering city. Do you see this scar on my face lad? I was given this my first night in Cauldron when I was deep in my cups and made one too many jests about the strength of elvish wine, as well as the manhood of those who drank it. I swear I thought the bastard had cut my eye out with that broken bottle and it took me a week before I could see out of my eye clearly again, but it took the man two months before he didn’t walk with a limp.”

    “It was a wild time for me back then lad. I would make some coins here and there and as quickly as I did I would drink, wench, and eat them away, often in that order. Really lad, if you are going to collect tales in a bar, you mustn’t blush so easily. Not everyone is as pure as Artur Eld was, but it doesn’t mean we are all craven creatures. As Kord teaches, all contests are meant to be enjoyed, but never abused.”

    “Time passed and my weaknesses soon caught up with me. I couldn’t hire myself out due to my drinking and my temper had me starting fights the few times I was allowed inside of the taverns. In short lad, I was a mess, but then it all changed. Kord entered my life by knocking me down into the mud and forcing me to stay there and admit that what strength I had was nothing without a purpose.”

    “Father Hranleurt was throwing another competition in the plaza following a heavy rain and the prize for winning the wrestling match was a purse of coins that would have put a meal in my belly, a bottle in my hand, and maybe enough left over to have a real bed underneath me for the night. All I had to do was pin and hold this stick of a man down for three seconds, and it would be mine. Forcing my way to the head of the line, as I said lad, I was a mess back then, I took on the challenge and charged in like a bull. When I collided with the man, it was like I had run into a brick wall and before I could regain my bearings, he had my arm twisted behind my back, and my head racing towards the muddy ground. I struggled, cursed, and I think even managed to land a lucky shot into his groin, but his grip was like iron and slowly he began twisting my face until I nearly choked on the mud underneath me. Then as easily as I had been forced down, the same steely grip hoisted me back to my feet and smiled at me.”

    “No lad, I didn’t try to punch him. There was just something in that look that said that if I would have tried, that his smile would have never wavered as he broke my arm. I was humiliated in public, the mighty dwarf brought low by a man who didn’t look to weigh more than five stones soaking wet, but who was strong lad, stronger than any man I had ever met before.”

    “No lad, I think I have had enough for a night, but thank you for your offer. You have earned the right to hear the rest of this tale without going deeper into your own pockets. After the competition was over, I followed the brothers back to the temple and told them that I wanted to join the church. If Kord could give such strength to a willow, imagine the strength he could give me. They ignored my calls to them and closed the temple doors in my face. I was furious lad, furious at them for thinking they were better than me, furious for not throwing the punch even if it cost me a broken hand, and I vowed that I would gain entrance inside, no matter what it cost me.”

    “For three days I stood outside the temple, three days with no food or water, three days of standing in my own waste when my body could not be denied, but as Kord is my witness, I stood there. When they would ask, what did I want and why did I stand before them, I would demand entrance and they would slam the door once more in my face. Then when my vision began to blur and my body began to shake against my will, I heard his voice. It was deep and powerful and it was right.”

    To learn strength, one must first learn to admit weakness. Ask for the strength to be made strong and it shall be given.”

    “As if the brothers heard it also, the door opened once more and then time when they asked, my eyes grew weaker and I heard my own voice coming from what seemed a hundred paces away.”

    “Help me.”

    “From there lad, things have been as they were meant to be. My family still has not spoken to me, despite my letters to them, but I know in time Kord will help me with the battle with their heart as well. I have recently completed the last of my trials of priesthood, a different story for a different day lad, but do not doubt that I have not taken Kord’s lessons to heart. Life is meant to be lived to the fullest each day, always pushing yourself harder than you did the day before, and knowing that there will be a battle that you will not win one day, but to seek out that day instead of cowering away from it. I also know how the brother was able to defeat me so easily and one day I will also be strong enough to call upon Kord for that gift, but until then, I will bask in the strength I have been given and use it to be an example.”

    “After all lad, I am an Honored Champion, just one who happened to say no to the All Father…”


    Goran is broad shouldered, heavily muscled, with a shaved head and a pair of predatory emerald eyes. Multiple piercings cover his face, from his eyebrows to his lips and a thin scar starts just below his right eye and curves to his chin, a reminder to never underestimate a man charging him with nothing more than a broken wine bottle. His armor is well worn, but serviceable, as is the battleaxe strapped across his back, with Kord’s symbol worked on its hilt. Around his neck is a silver medallion of Kord, but if anyone was able to examine it closely, they would see the many small dents and scratches that have accumulated on it since Goran first had it placed around his neck.

    While many priests preach about the wonders of their faith, Goran believes that the best sermons are delivered through action. As such, he does not mix words and he speaks his mind freely and bluntly. While he has been known to ruffle a few feathers among the other good clergymen he has encountered, especially those who have a less aggressive mindset than he does, none can argue that the paths he travels aren’t a little more interesting when he is around.

    Personal Details
    Age: 62
    Height: 4'10
    Weight: 185
    Eyes: Green
    Hair: Brown



    Last edited by Zarust; Sunday, 19th October, 2008 at 12:28 AM.

  4. #4
    Keth Shinsplitter


    Name: Keth Shinsplitter
    Class: Druid 1
    Race: Halfling
    Alignment: TN

    Speed: 20ft.

    Str: 11 (+0) (Light Load: 28lb or less, Med. Load: 29-57lb, Heavy Load: 58-86lb)
    Dex: 15 (+2)
    Con: 14 (+2)
    Int: 12 (+1)
    Wis: 15 (+2)
    Chr: 10 (+0)

    Fort: +2+2+1=+5
    Ref: +0+2+1+2=+5
    Will: +2+2+1=+5 (+2 morale bonus against fear)

    BAB: +0
    Melee: +0+1=+1
    Ranged: +0+2+1(+1 w/ thrown weapons/slings)=+3(+4)
    Grapple: +0-4=-4

    Dagger: 1d3 19-20/x2 Range Increment: 10ft Piercing or Slashing
    Club: 1d4 x2 Range Increment: 10ft Bludgeoning
    Sling 1d3 x2 Range Increment: 50ft Bludgeoning
    (use rocks instead of slings bullets 1d2 damage at -1 to hit)

    Init: +2

    AC: 10+2+1+2+1=16
    Touch: 10+2+1=13
    Flat-Footed: 10+1+2+1=14
    Armour Check Penalty: -1 when using shield.

    HP: 10/10

    Wild Empathy: Diplomacy for animals 1d20+druid level+chr.

    Lightning Reflexes

    Concentration: +4+2=+6
    Handle Animal: +3=+3
    Knowledge (Nature): +3+1+2=+6
    Listen: +4+2+2=+8
    Spot: +3+2=+5
    Survival: +3+2+2=+7
    Hide: +0(no ranks)+2+4=+6
    Move Silently: +0(no ranks)+2+2=+4
    Climb: +0(no ranks)+2=+2
    Jump: +0(no ranks)+2=+2


    Spell Save DC:
    0th: 12
    1st: 13

    Spells per Day:
    0th: 3
    1st: 1+1

    4gp 6sp 9cp
    2x Scroll of Cure Light Wounds
    Potion of Enlarge Person
    Wand of Lesser Vigor (10 charges, caster level 1st, grants fast healing 1 for 10 rounds)
    20x Sling Bullets
    Leather Armour
    Light Wooden Shield
    Belt Pouch
    Flint and Steel
    Holly and Mistletoe (Divine Focus)
    Spell Component Pouch
    Explorer's Outfit

    Animal Companion: Fang

    Medium Animal
    Hit Dice: 2d8+4 (13 hp)
    Initiative: +2
    Speed: 50 ft. (10 squares)
    Armor Class: 14 (+2 Dex, +2 natural), touch 12, flat-footed 12
    Base Attack/Grapple: +1/+2
    Attack: Bite +3 melee (1d6+1)
    Full Attack: Bite +3 melee (1d6+1)
    Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
    Special Attacks: Trip
    Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent
    Saves: Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +1
    Abilities: Str 13, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
    Skills: Hide +2, Listen +3, Move Silently +3, Spot +3, Survival +1*
    Feats: TrackB, Weapon Focus (bite)

    Trip (Ex): A wolf that hits with a bite attack can attempt to trip the opponent (+1 check modifier) as a free action without making a touch attack or provoking an attack of opportunity. If the attempt fails, the opponent cannot react to trip the wolf.

    Skills: *Wolves have a +4 racial bonus on Survival checks when tracking by scent.

    Link: Druid may handle their animal companion as a free action, or push it as a move action. +4 circumstance bonus on all wild empathy checks and handle animal checks made regarding animal companion

    Share Spells: At the druid's option, they may have any spell they cast upon themselves also affect their animal companion. The animal companion must be within 5ft of them at the time

    of casting to receive the benefit. If the spell or effect has a duration other than instantaneous, it stops affecting the animal companion if the companion moves farther than 5ft away and will not affect the animal again, even if it returns to the druid before the duration expires. Additionally, the druid may cast a spell with a target of "You" on her animal companion (as a touch range spell) instead of on themselves. A druid and their animal companion can share spells even if the spells normally do not affect creatures of the companion's type (animal)

    2xAttack (will attack all creatures)

    Character History

    Karst Woodwrath could smell the acrid scent of smoke mixed with the usual smells of the night time. There was too much, this was no campfire. The ragged looking half-orc slipped through the trees wondering what new threat had come to this forest. As the smoke hung heavier in the air Karst realized the likely source was the homestead that had gone up here some year or so back. His pace quickened until he came to the clearing where the tiny home stood. The wood and sod dwelling was a damp smokey blaze, but it didn't appear there was any danger of it spreading to the forest. Something laying in the grass caught his eye, peering from the concealment of the treeline he didn't see any movement in the dancing light of the fire. Creeping forward he realized what it was, a body of a halfling man, well half of it anyway the bottom lay some 10 feet away. If he had to guess, whatever did this had come from the Demonskar. Karst had made his home in the region west of Redgorge for some years now, a self-appointed guardian against the denizens of the Demonskar, he had seen their handywork before.

    A sudden plaintive wail broke the night air, the druid's head snapped up and his body tensed. It took him a second to place the sound, it wasn't any forest creature he knew, no it was...a crying baby. Forgetting caution he ran to the other side of the burning building. Some ways off he could see another body, it was obvious even from here that she wasn't anymore alive than her mate was. Once more the cry broke the night, it was coming from the treeline. It didn't take him long to locate the hollowed out stump where there lay a tiny halfling baby. The mother must have had a chance to hid the child before she herself had been caught. Life in death a child in a tree, Karst knew this to be a sign from the old spirits that inhabited this forest. Taking the infant in arm he bore him away from horror and flame into the comforting darkness of the forest.


    The halfling's name was Keth Shinsplitter, an example of the dangers of being named by a half-orc with a sense of humor. Usually old Karst just called him Cub though. The ageing half-orc had taught him everything he knew. Though the tough old druid had a gentle streak if you looked hard enough, the lessons had often been harsh. He knew it was all necessary, one day he would replace Karst in his duties. Still it was hard to imagine that it would be anytime soon the way the old bastard acted sometimes, but lately the Karst had seem troubled.

    It was over a dinner of an herby stew when Cub decided he would ask what weighed so heavily on his master's mind. Karst was the one that spoke first however, "I've been trying to avoid it, but it's time for your final lesson." Keth laid his spoon down and looked at him questioningly.

    "You've been a good son to me," Karst went on, "even if your not my own blood. I want you to know that." A small seed of panic began to grow in the halfling, the old druid never talked this way. "Seems like only yesterday I brought you back here with me and you must leave."

    Keth was the picture of confusion, "huh? But..."

    Bang! The bowls rattled on the table as Karst's gnarled fist slammed down, "There are no buts Cub, you will leave tomorrow" he roared. Then he suddenly seemed to deflate, the weight of years settling across his features. "I've taught you all I can of the old ways, you have survived your initiation. But you are not ready. Your final lesson you must learn yourself. You will go into the settled lands there you will learn much of what you must guard and guard against. It is not enough to understand the cry of the wolf or the fury of the storm, you must understand people too.

    There were a hundred things Keth wanted to say, but he knew they were all selfish so he said instead what was hardest. "I will honor the wisdom of my teacher and my father, tomorrow I leave with the coming of the sun."

    A proud smile spread across Old Karst's face. He was not one to dwell on emotional things and already his mood was lightening, "Besides maybe this way you can find a mate and make more midgets, bwa ha ha ha."

    Keth scooped up a potato from his stew bowl and flung it at the old half-orc, pegging him in head, which only caused him to laugh harder. "Can't you stay serious even at a time like this you old bastard!"


    Keth had set off the next morning just as promised, first to Redgorge and then on from there. Old Karth didn't seem to have and shortage of advice as he tried to leave that morning. The halfling had a few coins that Karth had evidently squirrled away somewhere and even more warnings to watch his money, evidently it was like blood to wolves in the city. The last thing he heard as he set off to the east with his faithful wolf-friend Fang was Karst's final salute, "Never forget, you are Keth, son of Karth!"

    The old druid watched the pair disappear into the trees, his form bent as though suddenly crushed under the weight of years, only the trees hearing his final farewell, "Be careful, this may be your cruelest lesson yet, young son."

    Keth stands about 3'1" tall with dark disheveled hair. His skin is well tanned and his build lean and musculer from all the years of living halfwild off the land. His most memorable feature is a missing left eye, and a body crisscrossed with scars, a reminder that the old ways are often savage. He dresses in homemade leather armour, buckskins and furs. Around his waist is a belt made of rough rope, a shiny dark wooden cudgel shoved through it and an old, well worn bone handled knife and a few pouches hanging from it. A roughly woven mottled green cloak protects him from the weather. A roughly hewn wooden shield is slung across his back along with a patched leather backpack. He smells wood, damp earth, and sweat.

    Age: 25
    Height: 3'1"
    Weight: 35lb

    In short, rough and crude. Social graces were not on Old Karth's training schedule. He does like a good joke, if they don't try to be too clever. He has a fierce pride in his adopted heritage. He knows sometimes the ends do justify the means, and that there are times when violence is the answer. And years of patrolling the forest around the Demonskar at this master's side have squashed any sense of fighting fair, and a deep loathing of the unnatural. He feels a certain embarrassment that he knows almost nothing about his own people. People of any level of refinement make him feel ackward and life outside the forest sometimes baffles him, but he carries on best he can because it is Karst's wish he do so.
    Last edited by Oni; Wednesday, 29th October, 2008 at 12:17 AM.

  5. #5

    Floch - Half Mountain Orc / Half Baklunish Human Fighter

    Character sheet

    Male Half-Orc Fighter 1 (Human Baklunish / Mountain Orc)
    True Neutral
    Strength 19 (+4)
    Dexterity 13 (+1)
    Constitution 16 (+3)
    Intelligence 11 (+0)
    Wisdom 13 (+1)
    Charisma 11 (+0)

    xp: 180
    Total Hit Points: 13
    Speed: 20 feet
    Armor Class: 18 = 10 +1 [dexterity] +5 [Armor] +2 [Shield]
    Touch AC: 11
    Flat-footed: 17

    Initiative modifier: +1 = +1 [dexterity]
    Fortitude save: +5 = 2 [base] +3 [constitution]
    Reflex save: +1 = 0 [base] +1 [dexterity]
    Will save: +1 = 0 [base] +1 [wisdom]
    Attack (Long Sword): +5 = 1 [base] +4 [strength]
    Attack (Battle Axe): +6 = 1 [base] +4 [strength] +1 [Feat]
    Attack (unarmed): +5 = 1 [base] +4 [strength]
    Attack (missile): +2 = 1 [base] +1 [dexterity]
    Grapple check: +5 = 1 [base] +4 [strength]

    Languages: Common Orc


    Size: Medium
    Height: 5' 11"
    Weight: 420 lb
    Skin: Gray
    Eyes: Light Brown
    Hair: Dark Brown; Light Beard
    Age: 17


    Power Attack
    Weapon Focus: Battle Axe (+1 to Atack)


    Skill Name (Key Ability) Skill Modifier = Ability Modifier + Ranks + Misc. Modifier

    Appraise Int 0 = +0
    Balance Dex* -6 = +1 -7
    Bluff Cha 0 = +0
    Climb Str* 0 = +4 +3 -7
    Concentration Con 3 = +3
    Craft Int 0 = +0
    Diplomacy Cha 0 = +0
    Disguise Cha 0 = +0
    Escape Artist Dex* -6 = +1 -7
    Forgery Int 0 = +0
    Gather Information Cha 0 = +0
    Heal Wis 1 = +1
    Hide Dex* -6 = +1 -7
    Intimidate Cha 4 = +0 +4
    Jump Str* -2 = +4 +1 -7
    Listen Wis 1 = +1
    Move Silently Dex* -6 = +1 -7
    Ride Dex 1 = +1
    Search Int 0 = +0
    Sense Motive Wis 1 = +1
    Spot Wis 1 = +1
    Survival Wis 1 = +1
    Swim Str** 4 = +4 -7
    Use Rope Dex 1 = +1
    * = check penalty for wearing armor

    Class and Race traits

    • +2 strength / -2 intelligence / -2 charisma (already included)
    • Darkvision (see 60 feet in pitch-dark)
    • Bonus Feats (already included)
    Campaign Trait:
    • Dream Haunted - You are used to fatigue, and suffer no penalties when you become fatigued. When you become exhausted, you are instead treated as if you are fatigued. –2 penalty on saving throws against effects that cause madness or insanity, and on saving throws against sleep effects.


    Light load:116 lb. or less
    Medium load:117-233 lb.
    Heavy load:234-350 lb.
    Lift over head:350 lb.
    Lift off ground:700 lb.
    Push or drag:1750 lb.

    Battle Axe (dmg 1d8+4) - body
    Long Sword (dmg 1d8+4) - body
    Heavy Wooden Shield - body
    Chain mail - body
    potion of protection from chaos
    Potion of cure moderate wounds
    Crystal of illumination (fixed to the hilt of the battle axe, glow with a 5-ft. radius)

    Winter blanket - backpack
    Backpack - body
    Waterskin - backpack
    Traveler’s outfit
    4 Pitons - backpack
    2 Hemp ropes (50 ft.) - backpack
    Hammer - backpack

    Total Weight: 103 lb of equipment (light load)
    Wealth: 50.5 gold coins


    Floch is Half Baklunish human and half Mountain Orc. His mother was kidnapped from Ket along time ago by a wandering tribe of Orcs, the Orcs themselves were banished to find a new Home from the Yatils. His mother was a slave of the tribe like other women that were captured on the way. Floch was a little child when the tribe scattered to the four winds by a battalion of Human soldiers. The humans took him to Cauldron and left him in the orphanage.
    Floch rose in the orphanage for 10 years, he was kind of brutal but it understood by the owners as he was a refugee from the Orcs. Leaving a life on the lower level of Orcish tribe did something to him. He learnt that he must trust only his own almost all his childhood. But living in the orphanage taught hum that he can trust humans as well.
    Now he pays his tribute back to those who raised him to act normally like the human part acts. He now serves as a guard over in the orphanage of Cauldron, thought he gets no money, he do get a bed and warm meal. Due to recent kidnapping in the city, the orphanage’s operators began to question his worthiness as a guard. Floch swear that he will find the responsible and regain their trust.
    Since his teenager years, Floch is hunted by dreams of horrible events. Orcs are after him, trying to enslave him again. He sleeps lightly, always on the guard. Who knows when the Orcs will come back to claim him again as a slave.

    Last edited by Strahd_Von_Zarovich; Friday, 17th October, 2008 at 08:00 PM. Reason: age + xp

  6. #6
    Guide (Lvl 11)

    Thanee's Avatar

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    Jan 2002
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    Block Thanee

    Alexi, Rhennee Sorceress

    Female Rhennee, 1st-Level Sorcerer (XP 180; rescuing Ruphus from thugs)
    Medium Humanoid (Human)

    Hit Dice: 1d4+2 (6 hp)
    Initiative: +1
    Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
    Armor Class: 11[15] (+1 Dex, [+4 armor]), touch 11, flat-footed 10
    Base Attack/Grapple: +0/-2
    Attack: -
    Full Attack: -
    Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
    Special Attacks: Spells
    Special Qualities: Mark of the Beast (wolf) (Roll), Summon Familiar (raven)
    Saves: Fort +2, Ref +1, Will +2 (+2 vs fire and poison)
    Abilities: Str 7, Dex 13, Con 15, Int 13, Wis 11, Cha 16 (Roll)
    Skills: Appraise +4(0), Bluff +7(4), Concentration +4(2), Handle Animal +4(1cc), Knowledge (arcana) +5(4), Listen[familiar within arm's reach] +0[2](0), Spellcraft +5(4), Spot[familiar within arm's reach] +0[2](0)
    Feats: Simple Weapon Proficiency, Infernal Sorcerer Heritage [PHB2], Infernal Sorcerer Howl [PHB2]
    Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

    Alexi stands 5 feet 5 inches tall and weighs 111 pounds. She is 19 years old. Her dark brown hair is falling in slight waves over her shoulders, framing a pretty face with hazel eyes. Her petite figure is dressed in a long green skirt and a matching vest, under which she wears a shirt of red-brown color. She also wears some simple silver jewelry, mostly earrings, rings and a few slim bracelets.

    Alexi speaks Common and Draconic.

    Spells: As 1st-level sorcerer
    Sorcerer Spells Known (5-1/4; save DC 13 + spell level):
    0 - Detect Magic, Daze, Light, Prestidigitation;
    1st - Mage Armor, Charm Person.

    Equipment: Traveler's Outfit, Backpack, Bedroll, Winter Blanket, Belt Pouch, Waterskin, Spell Component Pouch, Quaal's Feather Token (anchor), Scroll of Identify, Silver Jewelry (10 gp); 0 gp, 4 sp, 0 cp.

    Kyra, raven familiar: Tiny magical beast (augmented animal); HD 1; hp 3; Init +2; Spd 10 ft., fly 40 ft. (average); AC 15, touch 14, flat-footed 13; Base Atk +0; Grp -13; Atk/full Atk Claws +4 melee (1d2-5); Space/Reach 2-1/2 ft./0 ft.; SQ low-light vision, darkvision 60 ft., improved evasion, share spells, empathic link; AL N; SV Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +4; Str 1, Dex 15, Con 10, Int 6, Wis 14, Cha 6.
    Skills and Feats: Listen +5, Spot +7; Alertness, Weapon Finesse; Kyra speaks Common.

    Background: Noone knows where Alexi came from. Some say the child must have been raised by wolves out in the wild. Some even said she must have come from the crater. Maybe that's even the truth. Whatever it is, the child came to Redgorge at the age of seven, and without the knowledge of how she ended up there. How could a small child survive out there all by herself? It really didn't help either, that when questioned the girl screamed out in anger and small cuts and bruises literally manifested on the skin of those around her. It was a dog who saved her from being burned on the spot. Everyone knows that animals fear the unnatural, but the dog was very curious and obviously happy to be around the girl. Her innocent smile also helped immensely.

    Reluctantly, the villagers offered her shelter and so Alexi grew up as an orphan in Redgorge. She was a bit of a misfit, naturally, and watched with suspicion, but over the years her natural charms and friendly demeanor could win her the trust of the people. She also never did them wrong and even helped them as good as she was able to, usually bringing meals and refreshments to the miners in exchange for a few coppers. When her talent for sorcery started to show, most who still remembered the day when she first set foot into the village were relieved and accounted the strange occurance back then as an intuitive manifestation of her arcane powers. In fact, Alexi learned to focus her strange ability once she became more aware of it herself.

    She was 16 years already and quite a pretty young lady, and with the fears and suspicions finally being a thing of the past, it became easier for her to earn more serious money. Alexi saved most of it, all she needed was some for food and the occasional piece of clothing or simple jewelry, and some corn she liked to put into a bowl near the place where she lived, because it attracted a raven that always came there to feed, once it had figured out how convenient it was to get food there. Three years later, Alexi had saved up enough gold to get the material components for a ritual that would turn her 'pet raven' into her familiar. And so Kyra was 'born'.

    Eventually, Alexi felt the urge to see more of the region. Redgorge was a good place with good people, but there had to be more. She set out one day to travel to Cauldron, having only heard about the volcano city in stories so far...
    Last edited by Thanee; Wednesday, 17th December, 2008 at 09:48 PM.

  7. #7
    Lama (Lvl 13)

    Rhun's Avatar

    Join Date
    Feb 2005
    Salt Lake City, Utah
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    Block Rhun

    Baelor “Badaxe”
    Dwarven Rogue/Fighter


    Baelor stands four and a half feet in height, with a stout, solid build. Although he has arms and legs like thick, gnarled oak trees, he is still quite agile for one of his kind. He wears his hair and beard long and flowing, and always wears an eye patch over his left eye…whether the eye is missing or not is the topic of some debate, and Baelor himself never confirms or denies anything. He has a rough and rugged look to him, dressing in dirty, travel stained clothing, and smelling of rich earth, tobacco smoke and bitter beer. He bears several scars, has a couple of tattoos and wears a perpetual scowl upon his face. He never seems to be without his axe, nor his oddly carved meerschaum pipe.


    Baelor is both a sneak and warrior; while he is handy enough in a standup fight, he prefers to surprise his foes, and doesn't have a problem burying his axe in an enemy’s back. He is grim and dour, drinks more than he should, and is known to have something of a quick temper. He has a bad habit of collecting things that don’t belong to him, especially small items such as rings, keys and similar sundries.


    Baelor’s parents moved to the community of Caldron when he was still very young, seeking to make a better live for themselves. His father, Raelor, was a stonemason of some skill; that is to say, he was talented enough to make good coin in a human community, but among his fellow dwarves, he was nothing special. And thus the family began the long trek from the Crystalmists to Caldron.

    Raelor made a decent enough living as a stonemason, but only for a few years. He was killed in a construction accident (an unstable wall collapsed, crushing the poor dwarf), leaving Baelor and his mother to fend for themselves. While she did the best she could, Baelor began to get himself into trouble…stealing, fighting, and running with a small group of street toughs. It was during these years that he picked up the nickname “Badaxe” – both for his fighting prowess, and his bad attitude.

    Since reaching adulthood, Baelor has become something of a drifter. He travels about Caldron and the nearby settlements, looking for work…whether that works requires his skill with the axe, or his skills at sneaking about, it matters not to Baelor.


    Neutral Good Dwarf Male
    Rogue 0 (Primary) // Fighter 0


    Str 17 (+3)
    Dex 15 (+2)
    Con 16 (+3) (+2 racial)
    Int 13 (+1)
    Wis 12 (+1)
    Cha 06 (-2) (-2 racial)

    HP: 9 (6, +3 con)
    AC: 18 (10 base, +4 armor, +2 shield, + 2 dex)
    --- Touch AC 12
    --- Flatfooted 16

    Initiative: +2
    Move: 20’

    BAB: +0
    Melee: +3
    ---Waraxe +4 (1d10+3/19-20)
    Ranged: +2

    Fort: +4 (1 base + 3 con)
    Ref: +3 (1 base + 2 dex)
    Wil: +1 (0 base + 1 wis)
    +2 racial save bonus against poison
    +2 racial save bonus against spells and spell-like effects

    ----- ACP: -3
    Appraise +2 (1 rank, +1 int)
    Balance +5 (3 ranks, +2 dex)
    Diplomacy +0 (2 ranks, -2 cha)
    Disable Device +5 (4 ranks, +1 int)
    Escape Artist +3 (1 rank, +2 dex)
    Hide +5 (3 ranks, +2 dex)
    Listen +4 (3 ranks, +1 wis)
    Move Silently +5 (3 ranks, +2 dex)
    Open Lock +6 (4 ranks, +2 dex)
    Search +5 (4 ranks, +1 int)
    Sense Motive +2 (1 rank, +1 wis)
    Sleight of Hand +3 (1 rank, +2 dex)
    Spot +4 (3 ranks, +1 wis)
    Tumble +5 (3 ranks, +2 dex)

    - Common
    - Dwarven
    - Goblin

    - Weapon Focus (Waraxe)
    - Power Attack

    Class Features:
    - Bonus Feat

    Racial Features:
    - Medium size
    - Darkvision 60'
    - Stone Cutting
    - Weapon Familiarity
    - Stability
    - Saving Throw Bonuses
    - +1 racial bonus on attack vrs orcs and goblinoids
    - +4 dodge bonus to AC vrs giants
    - +2 racial bonus on Appraise checks related to stone/metal
    - +2 racial bonus on Craft checks related to stone/metal

    Arms, Armor and Equipment:
    - Dwarven Waraxe (30gp, 8lb)
    - Throwing Axe (8gp, 2lb)
    - 2 x Light Hammers (4gp, 4lb)
    - Large Wooden Shield, masterwork (bonus item from airwalkrr, 10lb)
    - Chain Shirt (100gp, 35lb)
    - Traveler’s Outfit (1gp, 5lb)
    - Backpack (2gp, 2lb)
    --- Bedroll (1sp, 5lb)
    --- Lamp, common (1sp, 1lb)
    --- Oil, 4 flasks (4sp, 4lb)
    --- Hempen rope, 50’ (1gp, 10lb)
    --- 2 x Sacks (2sp, 1lb)
    --- Trail rations, 4 days (20sp, 4lb)
    --- Waterskin (1gp, 4lb)
    --- Tanglefoot Bag (bonus item from Airwalkrr)
    - Beltpouch
    --- Chalk, 1 piece (1cp, ---)
    --- Flint & Steel (1gp, ---)
    --- Flask, rotgut whiskey (3cp, 1.5lb)
    --- Meerschaum Pipe (5gp, ---)
    --- Tobacco, 2lbs (2sp, 2lb)
    --- Thieves’ Tools (30gp, 1lb)
    --- 10gp, 38sp, 16cp
    Last edited by Rhun; Wednesday, 22nd October, 2008 at 03:10 PM.

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