Adventure Path Chars
- Thread starter Phyrrus
- Start date
Eluvan
First Post
[sblock]Garrick
Half-Orc Male
Fighter 1
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: St. Cuthbert
Current Experience: 0
Next Level: 1,000
18 Strength (+4) [10 points, +2 racial]
12 Dexterity (+1) [4 points]
14 Constitution (+2) [6 points]
12 Intelligence (+1) [6 points, -2 racial]
10 Wisdom (+0) [2 points]
6 Charisma (-2) [0 points, -2 racial]
Initiative: +1
Speed: 20’ Move (-10’ from Armour)
BAB: +1
Grapple: +5
Melee Attack Bonus: +6
Damage: 2d4+6 (Falchion)
AC: 15 (+1 Dex, +4 Armour), touch 11, flat-footed 14
Ranged Attack Bonus: +2 (30’ range)
Damage: 1d6+4 (Javelin)
AC: 15 (+1 Dex, +4 Armour), touch 11, flat-footed 14
Hit Points: 12
Fortitude Saves: +4
Reflex Saves: +1
Will Saves: +0
Feats:
Light Armour Proficiency
Medium Armour Proficiency
Heavy Armour Proficiency
Shield Proficiency
Tower Shield Proficiency
Simple Weapon Proficiency
Martial Weapon Proficiency
Weapon Focus (Falchion)
Monkey Grip
Abilities:
Darkvision 60’
Orc Blood
Skills:
+4 Climb [4]+0 (Str, Armour)
+2 Intimidate [4]-2 (Cha)
-2 Jump [4]-6 (Str, Movement, Armour)
Languages: Common, Giant, Orc
Weapons and Armour: (48 lbs)
Falchion (2d4, 18-20/x2, 8 lbs)
5x Javelin (1d6, x2, 30’ range, 2 lbs ea.)
Scale Mail (+4 Armour, +3 Max Dex Bonus, -4 Armour Check Penalty, 30 lbs)
Equipment: (27 lbs)
Wooden Holy Symbol of St. Cuthbert
Backpack (2 lbs)
*50’ Hemp Rope (10 lbs)
*Bedroll (5 lbs)
*4x Trail Rations (4 lbs)
*Whetstone (1 lb)
Waterskin (4 lbs)
Belt Pouch (0.5 lbs)
*11gp, 8sp, 9cp (0.5 lbs)
Total Equipment Weight: 75 lbs (Light Load; Max Load = 300 lbs)
Description:
Garrick is ugly. Really, really ugly. It’s a common epithet to say that somebody looks like they’ve been smashed in the face with a brick, but the difference here is that Garrick really has been smashed in the face with heavy, blunt objects, on a number of occasions, and it’s absolutely apparent. His nose is broken, giving it a strange slant to the left, and his face is scarred and malformed generally. His brow is thick and heavy, with big bushy black eyebrows that make this unfortunate trait even more pronounced. To top it off, his Orcish ancestry has gifted him with a pair of curved lower teeth that protrude considerably, almost like tusks. He has a mane of thick black hair, and a beard to match. His hair is perpetually matted and tangled. His eyes are dark, reddish brown and rather too small, seeming to peer out piggishly from under his pronounced brow.
All that said, and whilst he is undeniably not a pleasant sight, his appearance does at least seem to command some respect. Clad in piecemeal metal armour and bearing a large, wickedly curved sword at his hip, he’s obviously ready for any fight that might come his way. His confident, almost predatory, gait and his multitude of scars seem to suggest that he’s no stranger to battle, and the fact that he stands well over six feet and that his broadness and musculature suggest a bull rather than a human being only add to the general impression that he’s not really somebody to be tangled with.
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 260 lbs
Eyes: Red-brown
Hair: Black
Age: 18
Background:
Garrick never had a childhood as such. He’s unsure of the details of his parentage – his mother wasn’t exactly approachable, and in truth he never cared enough to ask. At any rate, he was born into a savage band of orcs, ogres and goblinkind, travelling here and there between different trade routes and never staying long enough in one place to attract too much adverse attention with their raiding activities. From the earliest age he was given no special treatment, save for the occasional spat comment of ‘half-breed’ or ‘thinblood’. He was treated much the same as the pure blooded orcish children, and expected to keep up with them. He was strong and tough, and keep up he did. His life was one of savagery, conflict, and the ever-present threat of death should he make a mistake.
Never particularly close to his mother or his pure blooded siblings, and his father of course being absent, the closest thing Garrick had to a parent as he grew up was a grizzled old Ogre named Thrast. Way past his prime, Thrast was still a formidable warrior and for whatever reasons of his own he took a somewhat sadistic interest in Garrick. The young half-orc found some protection under his aegis, but he paid the price for it in the inordinately harsh training the Ogre put him through. He insisted that the child use his own falchion when they trained, a ludicrously large weapon even for a fully grown orc. For a child it was difficult to heft, yet alone wield effectively, yet with long practice, and as he grew, Garrick slowly came to be capable with the huge weapon. He had to learn fast, for Thrast held back very little in his training bouts with his young protégé. Many of the extensive collection of scars Garrick bears came from the blows of his one-time mentor.
He was still little more than a child when the knights of St. Cuthbert descended on his tribe and annihilated it. That didn’t stop him from hefting his sword and fighting as hard as he knew how, of course, but it was certainly his youth that stayed the hand of whichever knight found him unconscious on the field of battle. He could have died there, like so many others, but instead he was taken captive and taken to St. Cuthbert’s temple. Many there considered that he should never have been captured, that he should have been cut down with the rest, and at first he did nothing to prove them wrong. He showed himself just as savage as his kin, resisting any attempts to talk reasonably with him and proving hostile to anybody approaching him. One man in particular, a priest named Dantan, made it his mission to rehabilitate Garrick. For some days he had no luck, Garrick either capriciously refusing to speak to him at all or snapping obscenities. It was only on the day that Garrick actually swung a punch at the priest that their relationship changed. Frustrated and angry, Dantan thrashed the boy soundly and left in disgust.
Next time he came, Garrick proved deferential and communicative. To his young mind, might made right, and having demonstrated his superior strength Dantan found it suddenly much easier to begin reshaping Garrick’s sensibilities. The boy’s savagery and surliness never really left him, but slowly it began to be focused into a devoted faith in St. Cuthbert. He showed a remarkably quick grasp of the faith’s tenets, and soon came to follow them almost fanatically. The temple is not entirely comfortable with his violent nature – it’s not good public relations to have such a savage and uncivilised proponent of the faith too prominent in the public eye. His devotion is valued, though, as is his great strength and considerable prowess. As such, the temple has sent him on his way to do St. Cuthbert’s work wherever he finds the need for it. His first priority is to commission a larger sword – the one he wields currently would be more than sufficient for most people, but with his background of training with Thrast it’s too small and light for his tastes. [/sblock]
Half-Orc Male
Fighter 1
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: St. Cuthbert
Current Experience: 0
Next Level: 1,000
18 Strength (+4) [10 points, +2 racial]
12 Dexterity (+1) [4 points]
14 Constitution (+2) [6 points]
12 Intelligence (+1) [6 points, -2 racial]
10 Wisdom (+0) [2 points]
6 Charisma (-2) [0 points, -2 racial]
Initiative: +1
Speed: 20’ Move (-10’ from Armour)
BAB: +1
Grapple: +5
Melee Attack Bonus: +6
Damage: 2d4+6 (Falchion)
AC: 15 (+1 Dex, +4 Armour), touch 11, flat-footed 14
Ranged Attack Bonus: +2 (30’ range)
Damage: 1d6+4 (Javelin)
AC: 15 (+1 Dex, +4 Armour), touch 11, flat-footed 14
Hit Points: 12
Fortitude Saves: +4
Reflex Saves: +1
Will Saves: +0
Feats:
Light Armour Proficiency
Medium Armour Proficiency
Heavy Armour Proficiency
Shield Proficiency
Tower Shield Proficiency
Simple Weapon Proficiency
Martial Weapon Proficiency
Weapon Focus (Falchion)
Monkey Grip
Abilities:
Darkvision 60’
Orc Blood
Skills:
+4 Climb [4]+0 (Str, Armour)
+2 Intimidate [4]-2 (Cha)
-2 Jump [4]-6 (Str, Movement, Armour)
Languages: Common, Giant, Orc
Weapons and Armour: (48 lbs)
Falchion (2d4, 18-20/x2, 8 lbs)
5x Javelin (1d6, x2, 30’ range, 2 lbs ea.)
Scale Mail (+4 Armour, +3 Max Dex Bonus, -4 Armour Check Penalty, 30 lbs)
Equipment: (27 lbs)
Wooden Holy Symbol of St. Cuthbert
Backpack (2 lbs)
*50’ Hemp Rope (10 lbs)
*Bedroll (5 lbs)
*4x Trail Rations (4 lbs)
*Whetstone (1 lb)
Waterskin (4 lbs)
Belt Pouch (0.5 lbs)
*11gp, 8sp, 9cp (0.5 lbs)
Total Equipment Weight: 75 lbs (Light Load; Max Load = 300 lbs)
Description:
Garrick is ugly. Really, really ugly. It’s a common epithet to say that somebody looks like they’ve been smashed in the face with a brick, but the difference here is that Garrick really has been smashed in the face with heavy, blunt objects, on a number of occasions, and it’s absolutely apparent. His nose is broken, giving it a strange slant to the left, and his face is scarred and malformed generally. His brow is thick and heavy, with big bushy black eyebrows that make this unfortunate trait even more pronounced. To top it off, his Orcish ancestry has gifted him with a pair of curved lower teeth that protrude considerably, almost like tusks. He has a mane of thick black hair, and a beard to match. His hair is perpetually matted and tangled. His eyes are dark, reddish brown and rather too small, seeming to peer out piggishly from under his pronounced brow.
All that said, and whilst he is undeniably not a pleasant sight, his appearance does at least seem to command some respect. Clad in piecemeal metal armour and bearing a large, wickedly curved sword at his hip, he’s obviously ready for any fight that might come his way. His confident, almost predatory, gait and his multitude of scars seem to suggest that he’s no stranger to battle, and the fact that he stands well over six feet and that his broadness and musculature suggest a bull rather than a human being only add to the general impression that he’s not really somebody to be tangled with.
Height: 6’5”
Weight: 260 lbs
Eyes: Red-brown
Hair: Black
Age: 18
Background:
Garrick never had a childhood as such. He’s unsure of the details of his parentage – his mother wasn’t exactly approachable, and in truth he never cared enough to ask. At any rate, he was born into a savage band of orcs, ogres and goblinkind, travelling here and there between different trade routes and never staying long enough in one place to attract too much adverse attention with their raiding activities. From the earliest age he was given no special treatment, save for the occasional spat comment of ‘half-breed’ or ‘thinblood’. He was treated much the same as the pure blooded orcish children, and expected to keep up with them. He was strong and tough, and keep up he did. His life was one of savagery, conflict, and the ever-present threat of death should he make a mistake.
Never particularly close to his mother or his pure blooded siblings, and his father of course being absent, the closest thing Garrick had to a parent as he grew up was a grizzled old Ogre named Thrast. Way past his prime, Thrast was still a formidable warrior and for whatever reasons of his own he took a somewhat sadistic interest in Garrick. The young half-orc found some protection under his aegis, but he paid the price for it in the inordinately harsh training the Ogre put him through. He insisted that the child use his own falchion when they trained, a ludicrously large weapon even for a fully grown orc. For a child it was difficult to heft, yet alone wield effectively, yet with long practice, and as he grew, Garrick slowly came to be capable with the huge weapon. He had to learn fast, for Thrast held back very little in his training bouts with his young protégé. Many of the extensive collection of scars Garrick bears came from the blows of his one-time mentor.
He was still little more than a child when the knights of St. Cuthbert descended on his tribe and annihilated it. That didn’t stop him from hefting his sword and fighting as hard as he knew how, of course, but it was certainly his youth that stayed the hand of whichever knight found him unconscious on the field of battle. He could have died there, like so many others, but instead he was taken captive and taken to St. Cuthbert’s temple. Many there considered that he should never have been captured, that he should have been cut down with the rest, and at first he did nothing to prove them wrong. He showed himself just as savage as his kin, resisting any attempts to talk reasonably with him and proving hostile to anybody approaching him. One man in particular, a priest named Dantan, made it his mission to rehabilitate Garrick. For some days he had no luck, Garrick either capriciously refusing to speak to him at all or snapping obscenities. It was only on the day that Garrick actually swung a punch at the priest that their relationship changed. Frustrated and angry, Dantan thrashed the boy soundly and left in disgust.
Next time he came, Garrick proved deferential and communicative. To his young mind, might made right, and having demonstrated his superior strength Dantan found it suddenly much easier to begin reshaping Garrick’s sensibilities. The boy’s savagery and surliness never really left him, but slowly it began to be focused into a devoted faith in St. Cuthbert. He showed a remarkably quick grasp of the faith’s tenets, and soon came to follow them almost fanatically. The temple is not entirely comfortable with his violent nature – it’s not good public relations to have such a savage and uncivilised proponent of the faith too prominent in the public eye. His devotion is valued, though, as is his great strength and considerable prowess. As such, the temple has sent him on his way to do St. Cuthbert’s work wherever he finds the need for it. His first priority is to commission a larger sword – the one he wields currently would be more than sufficient for most people, but with his background of training with Thrast it’s too small and light for his tastes. [/sblock]
hbarsquared
Quantum Chronomancer
Mannecinni
Background -
[sblock]
Several years ago Penryn, a renowned wizardess from far-off lands, settled in Cauldron and opened a small magic shop that included various clockwork mechanisms, animated toys, and magic items of all types. Her business was moderately successful, allowing her to experiment with new creations in her spare time. A golem constructed of not only metal and gems, but wood and living tissue, was her culminating achievement.
The golem served where needed in the magic shop: retrieving items, aiding the wizard in her experiments, and even purchasing necessary components from nearby shopkeepers. With the wizard's arcane mark emblazoned on its forehead, the golem was recognized as her creation wherever it ventured in the surrounding community. Stoic and uncomplaining, the golem carried out its duties and followed instructions.
When Penryn, searching for a misplaced spell component, discovered several wooden carvings in the storage closet where her golem stood when unneeded, she realized she had somehow created something more than a simple automaton. Not only had the golem developed sentience, but had begun to create truly wondrous and beautiful works of art. She called him Mannecinni, the name of a great artist and sculptor from her homeland, and never again treated him like the mindless machine she thought she had created.
. . . . .
Mannecinni enjoyed his newfound life as Penryn taught him the basics of civilization, from appropriate conversation to the complexities of morality. He helped customers in the shop, surprising many with his humor and childlike demeanor, and sculpted many entertaining toys for the families that visited the shop, which Penryn would later enchant. He developed many friendships, despite his odd appearance and history, and particularly loved spending time with the children when they entered the store. He had begun as only a curiosity, but over time had embedded himself in the lives of those in their local community, and recognized as a friendly and familiar face.
It was when one of the children who regularly visited the shop suddenly disappeared that Mannecinni experienced a brand new emotion: worry.
[/sblock]
Character Sheet -
[sblock]
Male personality warforged artificer 1
LG Medium Construct (living construct)
Experience 0
Action Points 5 (1d6)
Init -1 (-1 Dex); Senses Listen -2, Spot -2
Languages Common
__________________________________________________
AC 13, touch 9, flat-footed 13 (+2 armor, +2 shield -1 Dex); light fortification (25% chance to negate a critical hit or sneak attack)
hp 8 (1 HD)
Immune poison, sleep effects, paralysis, disease, nausea, fatigue, exhaustion, effects that cause the sickened condition, and energy drain
Fort +2, Ref -1, Will +0 (Artificer Fort +0, Ref +0, Will +2; Con +2, Dex -1, Wis -2)
Weakness spells from the healing subschool and supernatural abilities that cure hit point damage or ability damage provide only half of their normal effect; vulnerability to heat metal, chill metal, repel metal or stone, repel wood, and rusting grasp
__________________________________________________
Spd 30 ft
Melee slam +1 (1d4+1) (+0 BAB, +1 Str) or
Melee
Melee
Ranged spear -1 (1d8+1/x3) (+0 BAB, -1 Str)
Space 5 ft; Reach 5 ft
Base Atk +0; Grp +1
Atk Options natural slam attack
Combat Gear scroll of alarm (2) (25 gp, Item Creation), scroll of sleep (2) (25 gp, Item Creation)
Common Infusions (CL 1st, or CL 2nd for Infuse Self, +1 melee touch, -1 ranged touch):
1st (3/day) - light, repair light damage, shield of faith, skill enhancement, personal weapon augmentation
__________________________________________________
Abilities Str 12, Dex 8, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 6, Cha 14 (28 point-buy)
SQ living construct traits, artificer knowledge, artisan bonus, craft reserve, disable trap, infuse self, item creation
Feats Scribe Scroll (Artificer bonus), Skill Focus (Use Magic Device) (1st-level)
Skills Craft (alchemy) +7 (4 ranks, +3 Int), Craft (sculpting) +7 (4 ranks, +3 Int) (+9 for warforged (repair kit)) Knowledge (arcana) +7 (4 ranks, +3 Int), Knowledge (architecture and engineering) +7 (4 ranks, +3 Int), Search +7 (4 ranks, +3 Int), Spellcraft +7, (4 ranks, +3 Int) Use Magic Device +9 (4 ranks, +2 Cha, +3 Skill Focus) (+11 for scrolls (+2 artisan bonus)); ACP -2 (-2 shield); ASF 15% (15% shield)
Possessions Ccombat gear plus longspear (5 gp), spear (2) (4 gp), heavy wooden shield (7 gp), alchemist fire (2) (25 gp, crafted), alchemist frost (2) (25 gp, crafted), alchemist spark (2) (25 gp, crafted), warforged repair kit (50 gp), and 9 gp. Total wealth: 200 gp (max at 1st-level),
__________________________________________________
Living construct traits (Ex): Cannot heal damage naturally; spells from the healing subschool and supernatural abilities that cure hit point damage or ability damage provide only half of their normal effect; vulnerability to heat metal, chill metal, repel metal or stone, repel wood, and rusting grasp; inert when hit points are less than 0 and greater than -10 and does not lose additional hit points; does not need to eat, sleep, or breathe.
Artificer Knowledge (Ex): +4 to detect whether a specific item has a magical aura, against DC 15.
Craft Reserve (Ex): 16 points remaining.
Infuse Self (Ex): Any infusion you cast that effects you (even if it effects others too) is cast at +1 level. (racial substitution level)
Item Creation (Ex): Can make a Use Magic Device check (DC 20 + caster level) to emulate each spell to create a magic item. For purposes of meeting item prerequisites, the effective caster level equals artificer level +2. If the item duplicates a spell's effect, it uses the actual artificer level as its caster level.
[/sblock]
Last edited:
Flannad of clan Flanath
[SBLOCK=Flannad]
Appearance:
Background: It had been a long year. A long year far from home. And a hard year. It seemed almost a lifetime ago that Flanadd of clan Falath had first ventured from his homeland in pursuit of a rogue halfling. The halfling went by the name of Rosco Hilltopple, but that was probably a simple alias. The worst part was the shame of it. The shame of a clan of Whisper Gnomes taken by a simple con and by a halfling. It was too much to bear. The clan's loss of a family heirloom was a disaster and disgrace, and they'd be the laughing stock of the families should word get out. Such was the shame that the deed was never spoken of again after the initial days.
It occurred during the celebrations for the matriach's 444th birthday - a momentous event. Many of the gnomes blamed themselves for the loss, citing that they should have seen it coming, or mentioned something they thought odd. But Rosco, or whatever his name really was, had been made welcome and had stayed for some time - it seems to make his plans and ingratiate himself; for he had, as Flanadd well knew, as he was one of many taken by the charismatic halfling.
As a young and impetuous gnome, Flanadd's blood boiled at the affront and the loss. Eventually he and his friend Skorlun Daergl swore an oath to each other to track down Rosco and see justice (and retribution) done.
'Twas a year ago that the friends set out with barely a word to anyone. And initially their hopes were high in returning to the clan as heroes. But as the weeks and months wore on, their morale subsided, and success looked less and less sure. Whoever Rosco was, he was elusive and left little sign of his passage - a glimpse by someone here, a victim there - just little things that a Whisper Gnome would recognise. And no sign of the heirloom either - so not even an option to steal it back or even buy it.
As time wore on, and each village and town began to look more and alike, funds ran out, and the friends were reduced to escalating their petty thievery to survive. But their luck ran out and a nasty encounter with the town guard left Skorlon dead and Flanadd with a badly wounded arm.
That was 2 weeks ago. The arm, now mostly healed thanks to a friendly priest, but a heart still heavy with the loss of his friend - particularly as he couldn't save him or even bury him without giving himself up (and he knew the penalty for that). Now Flanadd stands outside a bar, desperation increasing with no money, and no will to return home to an uncertain welcome. He licks his lips, wishing for the taste of a decent ale, and maybe a slice of warm bread, but more than anything else - a future![/SBLOCK]
[SBLOCK=Flannad]
Code:
[b]Name:[/b] Flannad of clan Flanath
[b]Class:[/b] Rogue 1
[b]Race:[/b] Whisper Gnome
[b]Size:[/b] Small
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Alignment:[/b] Chaotic Good
[b]Deity:[/b] Olidamarra
[b]Str:[/b] 10 +0 [b]Level:[/b] 1[b] XP:[/b] nil
[b]Dex:[/b] 18 +4 [b] BAB:[/b] +0 [b]HP:[/b] 8 (1d6+2)
[b]Con:[/b] 14 +2 [b]Grapple:[/b] -4[b] Dmg Red:[/b] nil
[b]Int:[/b] 14 +2 [b] Speed:[/b] 30ft. [b]Spell Res:[/b] nil
[b]Wis:[/b] 12 +1 [b] Init:[/b] +4[b] Spell Save:[/b] n/a
[b]Cha:[/b] 10 +0 [b]ACP:[/b] -0[b] Spell Fail:[/b] 10%
[b] Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total[/b]
[b]Armor:[/b] 10 +0 +0 +4 +1 +0 +0 15
[b]Touch:[/b] 15[b] Flatfooted:[/b] 11
[b]Base Mod Misc Total[/b]
[b]Fort:[/b] 0 +2 +2
[b]Ref:[/b] 2 +4 +6
[b]Will:[/b] 0 +1 +1
[b]Weapon Attack Damage Critical[/b]
Dagger (melee) +1 1d3 19-20/x2
Shortsword +1 1d4 19-20/x2
Shortbow +4 1d4 20/x2
Dagger (thrown) +4 1d3 19-20/x2
[b]Languages:[/b] Common, Gnome, Halfling, Terran.
[b]Abilities:[/b] Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft., Favored class: Rogue;
Weapon Familiarity (gnome hooked hammer), +1 racial bonus on attack rolls
against kobolds and goblinoids, +4 dodge bonus to Armor Class against
monsters of the giant type, +4 racial bonus on Hide and Move Silently checks,
+2 racial bonus on Listen and Spot checks; Rogue weapon & armour
proficiencies; Sneak attack (+1d6); Trapfinding.
[b]Spell-Like Abilities:[/b] 1/day -- silence (must be centered on Flannad's body),
ghost sound, mage hand, message. Caster level 1st; save DC 10 + spell level.
[b]Feats:[/b] Tactile Trapsmith.
[b]Skill Points:[/b] 40 [b]Max Ranks:[/b] 4/2
[b]Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total[/b]
Balance 1 +4 +5
Climb 2 +0 +2
Disable Device 4 +4 +2 +10
Escape Artist 1 +4 +5
Hide 4 +4 +8 +16
Jump 4 +0 +4
Listen 4 +1 +2 +7
Move Silently 4 +4 +4 +12
Open Lock 4 +4 +2 +10
Search 4 +4 +8
Spot 4 +1 +2 +7
Tumble 4 +4 +8
[b]Equipment: Cost Weight[/b]
Armor, leather 10gp 7lb
Shortsword 10gp 1lb
Shortbow 30gp 1lb
Arrows (20) 1gp 3lb
Dagger 2gp 0.5lb
Alchemists Fire 20gp 1lb
Backpack 2gp 0.5lb
Bedroll 0.1gp 1lb
Blanket, winter 0.5gp 0.5lb
Caltrops 1gp 2lb
Case (map or scroll) 0.1gp 1lb
Flint & steel 1gp -
Ink 8gp -
Paper (10) 4gp -
Pouch, belt 1gp -
Rations, trail (per day) (x2) 1gp 0.5lb
Signal whistle 0.8gp -
Tindertwig (2) 2gp -
Tools, thieves', masterwork 100gp 2lb
Waterskin 1gp 1lb
Whetstone 1gp 1lb
[B]Coins:[/B]
Gold pieces (x5) 4gp 0.1lb
Silver pieces (x5) 0.5gp 0.1lb
[B]Total:[/B] 200.0gp 23.2lb
[b]Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push[/b]
[b]Max Weight: (x3/4)[/b] 24 25-49 50-75 75 375
[b]Age:[/b] ??
[b]Height:[/b] 3'8"
[b]Weight:[/b] 33lb
[b]Eyes:[/b] gray
[b]Hair:[/b] light brown
[b]Skin:[/b] pale (light gray)Background: It had been a long year. A long year far from home. And a hard year. It seemed almost a lifetime ago that Flanadd of clan Falath had first ventured from his homeland in pursuit of a rogue halfling. The halfling went by the name of Rosco Hilltopple, but that was probably a simple alias. The worst part was the shame of it. The shame of a clan of Whisper Gnomes taken by a simple con and by a halfling. It was too much to bear. The clan's loss of a family heirloom was a disaster and disgrace, and they'd be the laughing stock of the families should word get out. Such was the shame that the deed was never spoken of again after the initial days.
It occurred during the celebrations for the matriach's 444th birthday - a momentous event. Many of the gnomes blamed themselves for the loss, citing that they should have seen it coming, or mentioned something they thought odd. But Rosco, or whatever his name really was, had been made welcome and had stayed for some time - it seems to make his plans and ingratiate himself; for he had, as Flanadd well knew, as he was one of many taken by the charismatic halfling.
As a young and impetuous gnome, Flanadd's blood boiled at the affront and the loss. Eventually he and his friend Skorlun Daergl swore an oath to each other to track down Rosco and see justice (and retribution) done.
'Twas a year ago that the friends set out with barely a word to anyone. And initially their hopes were high in returning to the clan as heroes. But as the weeks and months wore on, their morale subsided, and success looked less and less sure. Whoever Rosco was, he was elusive and left little sign of his passage - a glimpse by someone here, a victim there - just little things that a Whisper Gnome would recognise. And no sign of the heirloom either - so not even an option to steal it back or even buy it.
As time wore on, and each village and town began to look more and alike, funds ran out, and the friends were reduced to escalating their petty thievery to survive. But their luck ran out and a nasty encounter with the town guard left Skorlon dead and Flanadd with a badly wounded arm.
That was 2 weeks ago. The arm, now mostly healed thanks to a friendly priest, but a heart still heavy with the loss of his friend - particularly as he couldn't save him or even bury him without giving himself up (and he knew the penalty for that). Now Flanadd stands outside a bar, desperation increasing with no money, and no will to return home to an uncertain welcome. He licks his lips, wishing for the taste of a decent ale, and maybe a slice of warm bread, but more than anything else - a future![/SBLOCK]
Last edited:
Starman
Adventurer
Architan
[sblock]Medium human
Paladin 1
Hit Dice: 1d10+2 (12 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 30 ft.
Armor Class: 14 (-1 Dex, +5 Armor), touch 9, flat 14
Base Attack/Grapple: +1/+3
Attack: greatsword +4 melee (2d6+3/19-20/x2) or dagger +3 melee (1d4/19-20/x2)
Full Attack: greatsword +4 melee (2d6+2/19-20/x2) or dagger +3 melee (1d4/19-20/x2)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Smite evil 1/day
Special Qualities: Aura of good, detect evil
Saves: Fort +6, Ref -1, Will +0
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 8, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 16
Skills: Diplomacy +5(2), Knowledge(arcana) +1(1), Knowledge(religion) +3(3), Intimidate +4(1), Sense Motive +4(3)
Feats: Great Fortitude, Weapon Focus (greatsword)
Special: Scarred Soul
Alignment: Lawful Good
Languages: Common
Possessions: greatsword, dagger, chainmail, backpack, waterskin, flint and steel, whetstone, wooden holy symbol (Wee Jas), torch x2, traveler’s outfit x2, 31 gold, 8 silver, 6 copper
Background
Architan, commonly called Arc, is a grim young man of nineteen years. He grew up on the streets of Cauldron. He has no idea who his parents where or are as they disappeared or abandoned him when he was young. Growing up on the streets of Cauldron, Arc had it tough. He was not fast enough, big enough, or smart enough to be very well off. He found himself at the mercy of thugs, toughs, and anyone who thought they could use him or abuse him. If it weren’t for two people he managed to befriend, Irrik and Zith, then he probably wouldn’t have survived.
Irrik, a half-elf, and Zith, a human, were several years older than Arc, but they became good friends. Together the three of them managed to eke out a meager existence. While life was certainly still tough, at least Arc was surviving. His experiences made him bitter and angry, though.
One day, when Arc was thirteen, he came across the bodies of two recently murdered people. It was nothing that he hadn’t seen many times before, but something was different that day. The young man felt an urge to not let these people rot on the streets. He began making an effort to bury them. During this, a cleric of Wee Jas came upon him. Thrum Vigid was impressed with Arc and took him to the local temple. There Arc worked and began to learn the ways of Wee Jas. Slowly Arc honed his anger into a grim resolve to do something for the downtrodden people of Cauldron, although he still carries the scars of his years on the street. He can't sit with his back to the open and he is frequently jumpy. He still has nightmares and wakes up in a cold sweat often.
When he was eighteen, Arc felt a special call, and he began his paladin training in the service of his goddess. He has recently finished his intensive year-long initiation and is now ready to take on the evils of the world. A recently overheard conversation between Thrum and another priest about indicated something about his “path soon changing” has made him nervous, but he is ready to accept whatever Wee Jas asks of him.
Arc has thick, wavy black hair and dark eyes. He is a couple inches over six foot and weighs about 200 pounds. He generally dresses in dark red and black clothing. While he is not as angry as he used to be, he is still generally grim. He looks at his task as a serious one that has no time for lots of laughter and humor. Besides his goals of serving Wee Jas and helping the downtrodden of Cauldron, he has another more personal goal. He has recently learned that his friends Irrik and Zith have disappeared. He has vowed to learn their fate and mete out justice should it be required.[/sblock]
[sblock]Medium human
Paladin 1
Hit Dice: 1d10+2 (12 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 30 ft.
Armor Class: 14 (-1 Dex, +5 Armor), touch 9, flat 14
Base Attack/Grapple: +1/+3
Attack: greatsword +4 melee (2d6+3/19-20/x2) or dagger +3 melee (1d4/19-20/x2)
Full Attack: greatsword +4 melee (2d6+2/19-20/x2) or dagger +3 melee (1d4/19-20/x2)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Smite evil 1/day
Special Qualities: Aura of good, detect evil
Saves: Fort +6, Ref -1, Will +0
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 8, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 16
Skills: Diplomacy +5(2), Knowledge(arcana) +1(1), Knowledge(religion) +3(3), Intimidate +4(1), Sense Motive +4(3)
Feats: Great Fortitude, Weapon Focus (greatsword)
Special: Scarred Soul
Alignment: Lawful Good
Languages: Common
Possessions: greatsword, dagger, chainmail, backpack, waterskin, flint and steel, whetstone, wooden holy symbol (Wee Jas), torch x2, traveler’s outfit x2, 31 gold, 8 silver, 6 copper
Background
Architan, commonly called Arc, is a grim young man of nineteen years. He grew up on the streets of Cauldron. He has no idea who his parents where or are as they disappeared or abandoned him when he was young. Growing up on the streets of Cauldron, Arc had it tough. He was not fast enough, big enough, or smart enough to be very well off. He found himself at the mercy of thugs, toughs, and anyone who thought they could use him or abuse him. If it weren’t for two people he managed to befriend, Irrik and Zith, then he probably wouldn’t have survived.
Irrik, a half-elf, and Zith, a human, were several years older than Arc, but they became good friends. Together the three of them managed to eke out a meager existence. While life was certainly still tough, at least Arc was surviving. His experiences made him bitter and angry, though.
One day, when Arc was thirteen, he came across the bodies of two recently murdered people. It was nothing that he hadn’t seen many times before, but something was different that day. The young man felt an urge to not let these people rot on the streets. He began making an effort to bury them. During this, a cleric of Wee Jas came upon him. Thrum Vigid was impressed with Arc and took him to the local temple. There Arc worked and began to learn the ways of Wee Jas. Slowly Arc honed his anger into a grim resolve to do something for the downtrodden people of Cauldron, although he still carries the scars of his years on the street. He can't sit with his back to the open and he is frequently jumpy. He still has nightmares and wakes up in a cold sweat often.
When he was eighteen, Arc felt a special call, and he began his paladin training in the service of his goddess. He has recently finished his intensive year-long initiation and is now ready to take on the evils of the world. A recently overheard conversation between Thrum and another priest about indicated something about his “path soon changing” has made him nervous, but he is ready to accept whatever Wee Jas asks of him.
Arc has thick, wavy black hair and dark eyes. He is a couple inches over six foot and weighs about 200 pounds. He generally dresses in dark red and black clothing. While he is not as angry as he used to be, he is still generally grim. He looks at his task as a serious one that has no time for lots of laughter and humor. Besides his goals of serving Wee Jas and helping the downtrodden of Cauldron, he has another more personal goal. He has recently learned that his friends Irrik and Zith have disappeared. He has vowed to learn their fate and mete out justice should it be required.[/sblock]
Last edited:
Thanee
First Post
Raven
Raven
Female Changeling, 1st-Level Rogue (XP 0)
Medium Humanoid (Shapechanger)
Hit Dice: 1d6 (6 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 16 (+2 Dex, +4 armor), touch 12, flat-footed 14
Base Attack/Grapple: +0/+2
Attack: Rapier +2 melee (1d6+2/18-20)
Full Attack: Rapier +2 melee (1d6+2/18-20)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Sneak Attack +1d6
Special Qualities: Changeling Traits, Minor Change Shape, Trapfinding
Saves: Fort +0, Ref +4, Will +2 (+2 vs sleep and charm effects)
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 10
Skills: Bluff +6(4), Climb* +6(4), Disguise +10(0), Escape Artist* +6(4), Hide* +6(4), Intimidate +2(0), Listen +6(4), Move Silently* +6(4), Open Lock +6(4), Search +6(4), Sense Motive +8(4), Sleight of Hand* +6(4), Spot +6(4), Tumble* +6(4); * Armor Check Penalty -2
Feats: Simple Weapon Proficiency, Rogue Weapon Proficiency, Light Armor Proficiency, Able Learner
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Raven stands 5 feet 8 inches tall and weighs 130 pounds. Raven is a shapechanger and in her preferred form of a raven-haired human woman the changeling has shoulder-long, raven-black hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. She is 19 years old.
Raven speaks Common, Elven and Gnome.
Equipment: Rapier, Dagger, Chain Shirt, Traveler's Outfit (2), Backpack, Bedroll, Scroll Case, Belt Pouch, Silk Rope (50 ft.), Sack, Waterskin, Sunrod (6), Tindertwig (6), Thieves' Tools, Wooden Holy Symbol of Dalt; 13 gp, 8 sp, 0 cp.
Background: Raven had left her clan many years ago. The lure of the big wide world out there was just too strong to resist, and there was little for her to do in her home. She traveled around the countryside, often staying in the larger cities for weeks or even months, before getting on the road again. Raven needed supplies and money for her travels and the cities were the easiest place to get those... often for free, though occasionally this led to a rather hasty departure. The young changeling was always strangely fascinated by locks, especially closed ones and the interesting content behind them. This curiosity often got her into trouble, but it also gave her practice in all sorts of useful skills of the trade... and the supplies and money to finance her travels.
The latest place Raven traveled to is a city called Cauldron, located inside the mouth of a dormant volcano, the name appeared quite striking. Like all cities, Cauldron has a lot of locked doors, too. During the first week in Cauldron, Raven learned of a talented locksmith called Darius, who had made the city his home. Figuring, that his house would be a great challenge for her still developing skills, Raven set out to find out what was hidden behind his house's locks.
When she had made it inside, Raven was completely surpised by Darius who had noticed her entrance, and as she was just about to turn around and dash out, he called out to her and asked her to wait, and even though her reason was all against it, something made her stay. As it turned out, Darius was actually quite intrigued by her exploits. He asked her a few questions about the reason for her intrusion, and seemed to be pleased to hear, that she only wanted to know if she could get inside. As a follower of Dalt, Darius had pledged his life towards building locks and locking mechanisms, but there are also the followers of Dalt, who are meant to figure out and open these locks. When he told her about this, Raven instantly knew what her life would be like, what this inner voice was, which always urged her forward and stirred up her curiosity. She decided to stay a little longer and listen to his teachings...
Raven
Female Changeling, 1st-Level Rogue (XP 0)
Medium Humanoid (Shapechanger)
Hit Dice: 1d6 (6 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 16 (+2 Dex, +4 armor), touch 12, flat-footed 14
Base Attack/Grapple: +0/+2
Attack: Rapier +2 melee (1d6+2/18-20)
Full Attack: Rapier +2 melee (1d6+2/18-20)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Sneak Attack +1d6
Special Qualities: Changeling Traits, Minor Change Shape, Trapfinding
Saves: Fort +0, Ref +4, Will +2 (+2 vs sleep and charm effects)
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 10
Skills: Bluff +6(4), Climb* +6(4), Disguise +10(0), Escape Artist* +6(4), Hide* +6(4), Intimidate +2(0), Listen +6(4), Move Silently* +6(4), Open Lock +6(4), Search +6(4), Sense Motive +8(4), Sleight of Hand* +6(4), Spot +6(4), Tumble* +6(4); * Armor Check Penalty -2
Feats: Simple Weapon Proficiency, Rogue Weapon Proficiency, Light Armor Proficiency, Able Learner
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Raven stands 5 feet 8 inches tall and weighs 130 pounds. Raven is a shapechanger and in her preferred form of a raven-haired human woman the changeling has shoulder-long, raven-black hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. She is 19 years old.
Raven speaks Common, Elven and Gnome.
Equipment: Rapier, Dagger, Chain Shirt, Traveler's Outfit (2), Backpack, Bedroll, Scroll Case, Belt Pouch, Silk Rope (50 ft.), Sack, Waterskin, Sunrod (6), Tindertwig (6), Thieves' Tools, Wooden Holy Symbol of Dalt; 13 gp, 8 sp, 0 cp.
Background: Raven had left her clan many years ago. The lure of the big wide world out there was just too strong to resist, and there was little for her to do in her home. She traveled around the countryside, often staying in the larger cities for weeks or even months, before getting on the road again. Raven needed supplies and money for her travels and the cities were the easiest place to get those... often for free, though occasionally this led to a rather hasty departure. The young changeling was always strangely fascinated by locks, especially closed ones and the interesting content behind them. This curiosity often got her into trouble, but it also gave her practice in all sorts of useful skills of the trade... and the supplies and money to finance her travels.
The latest place Raven traveled to is a city called Cauldron, located inside the mouth of a dormant volcano, the name appeared quite striking. Like all cities, Cauldron has a lot of locked doors, too. During the first week in Cauldron, Raven learned of a talented locksmith called Darius, who had made the city his home. Figuring, that his house would be a great challenge for her still developing skills, Raven set out to find out what was hidden behind his house's locks.
When she had made it inside, Raven was completely surpised by Darius who had noticed her entrance, and as she was just about to turn around and dash out, he called out to her and asked her to wait, and even though her reason was all against it, something made her stay. As it turned out, Darius was actually quite intrigued by her exploits. He asked her a few questions about the reason for her intrusion, and seemed to be pleased to hear, that she only wanted to know if she could get inside. As a follower of Dalt, Darius had pledged his life towards building locks and locking mechanisms, but there are also the followers of Dalt, who are meant to figure out and open these locks. When he told her about this, Raven instantly knew what her life would be like, what this inner voice was, which always urged her forward and stirred up her curiosity. She decided to stay a little longer and listen to his teachings...
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