Name: Wikipaduran Dimnamfaddle Thistledown Potentloins
Race: Male Gnome
Class: Bard 1
Age: 44
Align: Chaotic Neutral
STR: 10 (+0)
DEX: 14 (+2)
CON: 13 (+1)
INT: 12 (+1)
WIS: 10 (+0)
CHA: 14 (+2)
AC: 16 (10 +3 Armor +2 DEX +1 Size)
HP: 7
Saves:
Fort: +1 (0 +1 CON)
Refl: +4 (2 +2 DEX)
Will: +2 (2 +0)
(Note: +2 save vs. illusions, +4 dodge vs. giants)
Skills:
Concentration +5 (4 + 1 CON)
Craft (Alchemy) +3 (+1 INT +2 Racial)
Hide +6 (+2 DEX, +4 Size)
Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +3 (2 + 1 INT)
Knowledge (History) +3 (2 + 1 INT)
Knowledge (Local) +3 (2 + 1 INT)
Listen +2 (2 + 0 WIS)
Perform (Squeezebox) +6 (4 + 2 CHA)
Perform (Comedy) +6 (4 + 2 CHA)
Sleight of Hand + 4 (2 + 2 DEX)
Swim +4 (4 +0 STR)
Use Magic Devices +6 (4 + 2 CHA)
Feats:
Point Blank Shot
Equipment:
Gnomish Squeezebox
Studded Leather Armor
Cutlass
Light Crossbow
Crossbow bolts (50)
Spell Component Pouch
Rope, hemp- 50 ft
Grappling hook
Torches (3)
Backpack
Flint and steel
Bard Spells Known:
Level 0 - Daze, Lullaby, Resistance, Summon Instrument
Languages:
Gnomish, Imperial, Elven
Bard Abilities:
Bardic knowledge
Bardic music
Countersong
Fascinate
Inspire courage +1
Gnome Abilities:
Low-light vision
+1 attack vs. kobolds and goblinoids
1/day 'speak w/animals' as lvl 1 caster
1/day - dancing lights, ghost sound, presigitation
+1 bonus to save DC vs. illusion spells cast
Appearance:
Wikipaduran is small and short of stature, even by gnome standards, standing a half head shorter than most mature gnomish males. He is, however, remarkably fit and well-muscled, and is quick to assure that, as his surname promises, what he lacks in height, he more than makes up for in other areas. He has sparkling blue eyes, wild red hair that always seems unkempt, and bushy eyebrows, above a neatly trimmed and waxed goatee that stands in perfect counterpoint to them. He tends to dress in various shades of blue, in an effort to bring out his eyes; his clothes are clearly well-worn and carefully patched in places, but not threadbare. Although not particularly religious, he wears a small pendant in the shape of the gold nugget of Garl Glittergold, a parting gift from his youngest brother.
Background:
Wik is a wanderer and vagabond who hails from a gnomish colony on the Prustan Peninsula. He claims to be the son of a retired gnomish outlaw who once served as chief engineer onboard the clockwork-powered galleon of the dread dwarven pirate Firebeard. Having run away from home at a young age to seek his fortune in the Sea Kingdoms, Wik has recently followed rumors of Firebeard's reappearance on the Whitewind Sea all the way to Ptolus, where he has naturally gravitated to the Docks district. He hopes to somehow attract the pirate's attention and sign on with his crew of dwarves, gnomes and halflings, following in his father's footsteps.
In the meantime, Wik makes his living via his gnomish squeezebox and his quick wit, improvising humorously bawdy sea chanties based on the local legends, news and gossip that he's absorbed during his stay. He's become most enamored of the stories of the delvers adventuring beneath the city, and has become quite popular in the taverns for the ballads of triumph, tragedy and swashbuckling derring-do he has adapted from them. When not playing or carousing in the Docks district, he can often be found snooping around Delver's Square, keeping an ear open for the basis of his next masterpiece. He frequently has to leave in a hurry--partly because, while catchy, not all of his songs are entirely complimentary--and also partly because he's not above liberating a few folks of their coin purses in the process. The money, he insists, goes to a good cause, often finding its way into the hands of a hardworking "muse" or two in the docks district, whom Wiki often turns to in search of...er, inspiration.
Personality:
Wikipad is normally a flippant, devil-may-care scoundrel with a passion for wine, women and song--not necessarily in that order--who takes life as it comes, content to let his dreams and tall tales of high adventure remain so, for the time being. However, the recent grisly murders of a few of his favorite muses--and the apparent disinterest the Watch has taken in them--have struck a chord within him. Under the cover of gathering tales for the composition of a new ballad, he has quietly begun making inquiries into both the murders themselves, and the long-ago legend of Longcoat.
