James Heard
Explorer
Ok, here is the mega-revision post
Cleric
[sblock]Dragen Kessler
History: The village that Dragen Kessler was born in stood above the chilly, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was never particularly pleasant or fruitful, being a mere jut of land and an inn beside a poorly kept ferry, but it was home. The village suffered greatly during the War as regular visits from the Royal Swords conscripted the young people of the village for service in the army. Most never returned.
Even when Dragen was a boy, the empty houses and fields stood as a testament to the lasting effects of the war. Dragen however, was taken by in by it all. When the soldiers would come marching into town he would dream of following them off to war, and following the Red Wolf of Karrnath into battle. Once he was old enough, he fled in the night without so much as a whispered goodbye to his mother to join himself.
Military life however, wasn't exactly as Dragen expected. While Dragen could salute and march with the best of them, it was plain to see by the time he reached the middle of his training that he would never be a proper soldier. Instead, he was sent off to one of the units that supplied and tended to mustering out of frontline soldiers. At first this was merely a clerical position in Korth, but his keen intellect soon granted him training in more complicated duties and sent him off to a unit that tended the sick and wounded.
While certainly closer to the glorious battles that Dragen imagined in his youth, he soon found out that nothing at all seemed to stop the constant hemorrhage of broken and battered men that stumbled into or who were carried into his tents. As the war for Dragen moved along, he saw more and more of his countrymen dying of things much worse than simple things like spear points and more often than not succumbing to cholera and lack of food. For years Dragen served his country nursing a sickness in himself that mirrored his country, until finally one day he just walked away.
Given how tumultuous the times were, it was no wonder that no one came looking for Dragen. He begged for food in the larger cities, or made some simple coin performing midwife duties for young women whose lovers were serving in the military. Mostly he just tried to rescue his own wounded soul, trying to shut out the whispers of the dead and dying that haunted him at night.
Then the Day of Mourning happened, and like many of his countrymen Dragen watched a nation die in an instant across the river from the streets of Karrlakton. It was the last straw, as Dragen emptied his stomach into an alleyway and began fleeing the horrors of war in earnest.
That was four years ago, and Dragen hasn't truly stopped running. As he made his way across rural Karnnath he ventured toward the village where he grew up, only to find empty ruined house after house with no sign of survivors. Most of the real valuables had apparently been taken by scavengers, but in the clutter of his childhood home he was able to find the locket of his father that his mother always wore. That and the bright red tattoo of the Wolf of Karnnath on his chest he had done when he enlisted are virtually the only reminders of his past that Dragen tolerates.
In the Lhazaar Provinces, Dragen found a place suitable for his temperament - where few people asked questions about things that don't concern them and where even the large evils and concerns of those around him seemed tolerable by their smaller scale. Peace for Dragen came at a cost though. Too often he found his nights eased by the sweet bliss of strong drink, and recently the former soldier has come to understand that he's likely merely exchanged one horror in his past for a slower, more insidious one in his future.
Appearance: Dragen would likely be unremarkable to almost anyone except for his gaunt, haunted eyes. His dark hair is dusted with premature gray flecks like his grizzled-looking five o'clock shadow, and he's definitely lost hair and often shows off a slight sunburn at the nearly naked top of his head. His craggy features never smile more than the wry twist of his lips that follows his gallows humor. His clothing is mostly unwashed linens with many mends and stains, and across his chest is an enormous tattoo of a red wolf.
Personality: Dragen is a broken man already resigned to his fate, trying to cling to the ideals that once offered him some sort of solace while hiding from the demons of his past. He's often sullen and sarcastic, or defeatist, and yet he has a strange tenacity for life. Sometimes he's merely the shadow of his former self, but part of him knows that this is a the end of the line for him. While not exactly comforting, the notion brings a certain sort of dark joy to his wounded heart. Dragen doesn't really care if he lives or dies anymore, and that's about the nicest thought he's had in a long while.
Role: Dragen is a cleric, and a good archer thanks to his zen archery feats and war domain.
Name: Dragen Kessler
Class: Cleric 4
Race: Human
Hit Dice: (4d8 +8) 34 HP
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 17(18), flatfooted 15(16), touch 12(13) (10 +2 Dex +5 armor (+1 shield))
Base Attack Bonus: +3
Grapple: +2
Attacks: +2 melee, +5 ranged, +3 (1d6-1, Shortspear, Masterwork); +9 (1d8, +1 Darkwood Longbow)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Human Traits, Cleric Domains (Celerity, War)
Special Attacks: Turn Undead
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +3, Will +8
Abilities: Strength 8, Dexterity 14, Constitution 14, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 18, Charisma 10
Skills: Concentration +9 (7 ranks), Heal +11 (7 ranks), Knowledge (religion) +11 (7 ranks), Spellcraft +9 (7 ranks), Spot + 7 (3 ranks), Tumble +2 (.5 ranks)
Feats: Simple Weapon Proficiency, Light Armor Proficiency, Medium Armor Proficiency, Heavy Armor Proficiency, Shield Proficiency, Weapon Proficiency (Longbow), Weapon Focus (Longbow), Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Zen Archery
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Elven, Orc
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: None
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 150 lbs
Spells:
Cleric Spells Per Day: 5/3+1/2+1
Inventory:
2 gp 9 sp 5 cp
+1 Darkwood Longbow (2,405 gp)
Arrows (50) (3 gp)
Shortspear, Masterwork (301 gp)
+1 Leafweave, elven Leather (1,910 gp)
Darkwood Shield (257 gp)
Scarf of Warmth (250 gp)
Bit and bridle (2 gp)
Horse, heavy (200 gp)
Saddle, military (20 gp)
Saddlebags (4 gp)
Bedroll (1 sp)
Candle (3) (3 cp)
Flint and steel (1 gp)
Lantern, hooded (7 gp)
Oil (pint) (6) (6 sp)
Pouch, belt (1 gp)
Rope, silk (50 ft.) (10 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Signal whistle (8 sp)
Snowshoes (15 gp)
Tent, One-Person (5 gp)
Whetstone (2 cp)
[/sblock]
Fighter
[sblock]Dragen Kessler
History: The village that Dragen Kessler was born in stood above the chilly, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was never particularly pleasant or fruitful, being a mere jut of land and an inn beside a poorly kept ferry, but it was home. The village suffered greatly during the War as regular visits from the Royal Swords conscripted the young people of the village for service in the army. Most never returned.
Even when Dragen was a boy, the empty houses and fields stood as a testament to the lasting effects of the war. Dragen however, was taken by in by it all. When the soldiers would come marching into town he would dream of following them off to war, and following the Red Wolf of Karrnath into battle. Once he was old enough, he fled in the night without so much as a whispered goodbye to his mother to join himself.
Military life however, wasn't exactly as Dragen expected. While Dragen could salute and march with the best of them, it was plain to see by the time he reached the middle of his training that he would never be a proper soldier. He was too wild, too independent, and damningly - too insubordinate. Despite his obvious talents, Dragen was sent to fill posts in a seemingly endless string of reserve posts.
As the war for Dragen moved along, he saw more and more of his fellow soldiers being promoted and moved to the front lines and became more and more disillusioned with his former patriotism. Eventually, denied one last ditch effort at gaining a commission from his seniority, Dragen slipped away in the night - turning his back upon his country as they had done on him.
Given how tumultuous the times were, it was no wonder that no one came looking for Dragen. He begged for food in the larger cities, or made some simple coin bouncing tables at out of the way inns and taverns. Years passed, and he found himself mixed up in rough and tumble mercenary company doing the jobs that were both too dirty for the proud warriors of Karrnath to do, and too delicate for the legions of undead that filled the gaps in Karrnath's shattered defenses.
Then a simple raid changed Dragen's life.
Sent across the border to retaliate for a minor intrusion by the Valenar, Dragen watched the horrors of war spill from his own soul and his companions onto a helpless village. The warriors of the Valenar were gone from the village into Karrnath. A scared child with a rock. Not a single survivor.
When the magnitude of what they had just done sank in, Dragen was horrified. When the Valenar caught the mercenaries unawares while they tried to slip back into Karnnath, even the most hardened soul among his companions shared that horror. One by one and in groups, the hired army was hounded and slaughtered across the plains and scattered.
That was four years ago, and Dragen hasn't truly stopped running. As he made his way across rural Karnnath he ventured toward the village where he grew up, only to find empty ruined house after house with no sign of survivors. Most of the real valuables had apparently been taken by scavengers, but in the clutter of his childhood home he was able to find the locket of his father that his mother always wore. That and the bright red tattoo of the Wolf of Karnnath on his chest he had done when he enlisted are virtually the only reminders of his past that Dragen tolerates.
In the Lhazaar Provinces, Dragen found a place suitable for his temperament - where few people asked questions about things that don't concern them and where even the large evils and concerns of those around him seemed tolerable by their smaller scale. Peace doesn't weigh heavily upon Dragen's soul though. Too often he found his nights eased by the sweet bliss of strong drink, and recently the former soldier has come to understand that he's likely merely exchanged one horror in his past for a slower, more insidious one in his future. Dragen struggles to understand within himself the nature of the evil and cawardice he believes he has began to personify, while ever looking over his shoulder for the demons that chase him in nightmares to come strike at him.
Appearance: Dragen would likely be unremarkable to almost anyone except for his gaunt, haunted eyes. His dark hair is dusted with premature gray flecks like his grizzled-looking five o'clock shadow, and he's definitely lost hair and often shows off a slight sunburn at the nearly naked top of his head. His craggy features never smile more than the wry twist of his lips that follows his gallows humor. His clothing is mostly unwashed linens with many mends and stains, and across his chest is an enormous tattoo of a red wolf.
Personality: Dragen is a broken man already resigned to his fate, trying to cling to the ideals that once offered him some sort of solace while hiding from the demons of his past. He's often sullen and sarcastic, or defeatist, and yet he has a strange tenacity for life. Sometimes he's merely the shadow of his former self, but part of him knows that this is almost literally the end of the line for him. While not exactly comforting, the notion brings a certain sort of dark joy to his wounded heart. Dragen doesn't really care if he lives or dies anymore, and that's the most dangerous thought he can imagine.
Name: Dragen Kessler
Class: Fighter 4
Race: Human
Hit Dice: 4d10+8, 41 HP
Initiative: +4
Speed: 20 ft
Armor Class: 19 (10 +8 armor +1 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +4
Grapple: +5
Attacks: +6 (2d6+1 Greatsword, MW); +10 (1d8+2, Longbow, MW)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Human Traits
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +1
Abilities: Strength 12, Dexterity 18, Constitution 15, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 10
Skills: Handle Animal +1 (1 rank), Heal +1 (1 rank), Intimidate +7 (7 ranks), Ride +11 (7 ranks), Search +5 (3 ranks), Spot +3 (3 ranks) , Survival +3 (3 ranks)
Feats: Armor Proficiency: heavy, Armor Proficiency: light, Armor Proficiency: medium, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot, Sharp-Shooting, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Tower Shield Proficiency, Weapon Focus (Longbow), Weapon Specialization (Longbow)
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Dwarven
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity:
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Height: 5'5
Weight: 145 lbs
Inventory:
1 sp 3 cp 13 gp
Longbow, Masterwork (375 gp)
Arrows (50), Masterwork (350 gp)
Greatsword, Masterwork (350 gp)
Full plate, Masterwork (1,650 gp)
Bit and bridle (2 gp)
Horse, light (75 gp)
Saddle, pack (5 gp)
Saddlebags (4 gp)
Backpack (2 gp)
Bedroll (1 sp)
Blanket, winter (5 sp)
Caltrops (1 gp)
Candle (2) (2 cp)
Flint and steel (1 gp)
Lantern, hooded (7 gp);
Mug, clay (2 cp)
Pouch, belt (1 gp)
Rope, hemp (50 ft.) (1 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Signal whistle (2) (16 sp)
Sewing needle (5 sp)
Tent (10 gp)
Waterskin (full) (1 gp)
Whetstone (2 cp)
Oil (pint) (6) (6 sp)
Rations, trail (per day) (7) (35 sp)
Courtier`s outfit (30 gp)
Explorer`s outfit (10 gp)
Ring of Sustenance (2,500 gp)[/sblock]
Wizard
[sblock]
Shyjael
History: The village that Shyjael was born in stood above the lush, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was ever pleasant and fruitful, despite being a mere jut of land and a human inn beside a poorly kept ferry, but it was home. As more and more humans moved into the lands surrounding Shyjael's village, the population waned, but none so much as when the new human kingdom suffered it's great schism of succession and the humans began warring upon each other. The village suffered greatly during the War as regular visits from the Royal Swords conscripted the warriors of the village for service in the army, but still the warrior spirit of Shyjael's anscestors maintained their spirits and peace.
Even when Shyjael was a boy though, it was clear that he was different. Village doors would remain closed for him, as they opened for others. Though elves are not prone to teasing, Shyjael was quietly shunned by his fellows instead of being rejoined in. As a consequence, Shyjael began to spend more and more time near the human inn, socializing in his stunted fashion with humans, and turning his back upon his people's traditions. When the soldiers came marching into town he one day, he finally turned his back on his people forever and left to find his destiny with the humans. Without so much as a whispered goodbye to the rest of his people, Shyjael became a soldier.
As a soldier, Shyjael's talents were sorely tested. However, he persevered and began his training in earnest by steady application of himself in the magical arts. While his talents were modest, his potential was great; and Shyjael soon found himself enrolled in Riddenmark...(I don't have time to finish this one right now, because I have to leave for family stuff. I'll try to finish it tonight or tomorrow. Highlights: Shyjael is an albino version of the others, with perhaps a little less angst and more high adventure)
Appearance:
Personality:
Name: Shyjael
Class: Wizard 4
Race: Elf, Karrnath
Hit Dice: 4d4 +4, 17 HP
Initiative: +4
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 14, touch 14, flatfooted 10 (10 +4 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +2
Grapple: +1
Attacks: +2 (1d8-1, Longsword, MW); +8 (1d8, +1 Longbow)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Immunity: Sleep Effects (Ex), Low-light Vision (Ex), +2 Saves vs. Enchantment Spells and Effects
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +4
Abilities: Strength 8, Dexterity 18, Constitution 12, Intelligence 18, Wisdom 10, Charisma 10
Skills: Concentration +8 (7 ranks), Heal +4 (2 ranks), Knowledge (Arcana) +11 (7 ranks), Knowledge (History) +11 (7 ranks), Listen +3 (1 rank), Search +2, Spellcraft +13 (7 ranks), Spot +4 (2 ranks), Survival +2 (2 ranks)
Feats: Point Blank Shot, Scribe Scroll, Weapon Focus (Longbow)
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Elven, Draconic, Goblin, Orc
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Gender: Male
Age: Right At Middle Age
Height: 5' 2"
Weight: 95 lbs
Spells Known (Wiz 4/4/3): 0 -- Acid Splash, Arcane Mark, Dancing Lights, Daze, Detect Magic, Detect Poison, Disrupt Undead, Flare, Ghost Sound, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Message, No Light, Open/Close, Preserve Organ, Prestidigitation, Ray of Frost, Read Magic, Repair Minor Damage, Repair Minor Damage, Resistance, Slash Tongue, Touch of Fatigue, Unnerving Gaze; 1st -- Disguise Self, Expeditious Retreat, Guided Shot, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Ray of Enfeeblement, Sleep, True Strike; 2nd -- Cat`s Grace, Melf`s Acid Arrow, Mirror Image, Protection from Arrows.
Spells Memorized (Wiz 4/4/3): 0 - Mage Hand, Mending, Message, Touch of Fatigue; 1st - Guided Shot, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, True Strike; 2nd - Cat`s Grace, Mirror Image, Protection from Arrows.
Inventory:
Longsword, Masterwork (315 gp)
+1 Longbow (2,375 gp)
Quiver of Ehlonna (1,800 gp)
Arrows (50), Masterwork (350 gp)
Healer`s kit, Masterwork (100 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Everburning Torch (2) (220 gp)
Spellbook, wizard`s (15 gp)
Horse, light (75 gp)
Bit and bridle (2 gp)
Saddle, military (20 gp)
Saddlebags (4 gp)
Potion: Cure Light Wounds (CL1) (50 gp)
Coin: gp (83) (83 gp); Coin: sp (10) (10 sp)
Familiar
Unnamed Yet, Rat, Male Animal, Rat : CR 1/8; Tiny Animal ; HD 4d8 ( Animal) ; hp 6; Init + 2; Spd 15, Climb 15; AC 16; Atk + 0 base melee, + 6 base ranged; +6 ( 1d3-4, Bite ); SQ: Scent (Ex), Low-light Vision (Ex); AL N; SV Fort + 2, Ref + 4, Will + 5; STR 2, DEX 15, CON 10, INT 7, WIS 12, CHA 2.
Skills: Balance +10, Climb +12, Concentration +7, Heal +5.5, Hide +14, Listen +2, Move Silently +10, Search +6, Spot +4, Survival +2, Swim +10.
Feats: Weapon Finesse.[/sblock]
As I note in the wizard entry, that one's not entirely fleshed out in print yet. I've got company coming soon, so I don't think I'm going to be able to manage to finish it until later on tonight. The other two versions though are probably as complete as they're going to be until I've got a nod to whether or not my character has made it and which other characters would be surrounding it.
Cleric
[sblock]Dragen Kessler
History: The village that Dragen Kessler was born in stood above the chilly, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was never particularly pleasant or fruitful, being a mere jut of land and an inn beside a poorly kept ferry, but it was home. The village suffered greatly during the War as regular visits from the Royal Swords conscripted the young people of the village for service in the army. Most never returned.
Even when Dragen was a boy, the empty houses and fields stood as a testament to the lasting effects of the war. Dragen however, was taken by in by it all. When the soldiers would come marching into town he would dream of following them off to war, and following the Red Wolf of Karrnath into battle. Once he was old enough, he fled in the night without so much as a whispered goodbye to his mother to join himself.
Military life however, wasn't exactly as Dragen expected. While Dragen could salute and march with the best of them, it was plain to see by the time he reached the middle of his training that he would never be a proper soldier. Instead, he was sent off to one of the units that supplied and tended to mustering out of frontline soldiers. At first this was merely a clerical position in Korth, but his keen intellect soon granted him training in more complicated duties and sent him off to a unit that tended the sick and wounded.
While certainly closer to the glorious battles that Dragen imagined in his youth, he soon found out that nothing at all seemed to stop the constant hemorrhage of broken and battered men that stumbled into or who were carried into his tents. As the war for Dragen moved along, he saw more and more of his countrymen dying of things much worse than simple things like spear points and more often than not succumbing to cholera and lack of food. For years Dragen served his country nursing a sickness in himself that mirrored his country, until finally one day he just walked away.
Given how tumultuous the times were, it was no wonder that no one came looking for Dragen. He begged for food in the larger cities, or made some simple coin performing midwife duties for young women whose lovers were serving in the military. Mostly he just tried to rescue his own wounded soul, trying to shut out the whispers of the dead and dying that haunted him at night.
Then the Day of Mourning happened, and like many of his countrymen Dragen watched a nation die in an instant across the river from the streets of Karrlakton. It was the last straw, as Dragen emptied his stomach into an alleyway and began fleeing the horrors of war in earnest.
That was four years ago, and Dragen hasn't truly stopped running. As he made his way across rural Karnnath he ventured toward the village where he grew up, only to find empty ruined house after house with no sign of survivors. Most of the real valuables had apparently been taken by scavengers, but in the clutter of his childhood home he was able to find the locket of his father that his mother always wore. That and the bright red tattoo of the Wolf of Karnnath on his chest he had done when he enlisted are virtually the only reminders of his past that Dragen tolerates.
In the Lhazaar Provinces, Dragen found a place suitable for his temperament - where few people asked questions about things that don't concern them and where even the large evils and concerns of those around him seemed tolerable by their smaller scale. Peace for Dragen came at a cost though. Too often he found his nights eased by the sweet bliss of strong drink, and recently the former soldier has come to understand that he's likely merely exchanged one horror in his past for a slower, more insidious one in his future.
Appearance: Dragen would likely be unremarkable to almost anyone except for his gaunt, haunted eyes. His dark hair is dusted with premature gray flecks like his grizzled-looking five o'clock shadow, and he's definitely lost hair and often shows off a slight sunburn at the nearly naked top of his head. His craggy features never smile more than the wry twist of his lips that follows his gallows humor. His clothing is mostly unwashed linens with many mends and stains, and across his chest is an enormous tattoo of a red wolf.
Personality: Dragen is a broken man already resigned to his fate, trying to cling to the ideals that once offered him some sort of solace while hiding from the demons of his past. He's often sullen and sarcastic, or defeatist, and yet he has a strange tenacity for life. Sometimes he's merely the shadow of his former self, but part of him knows that this is a the end of the line for him. While not exactly comforting, the notion brings a certain sort of dark joy to his wounded heart. Dragen doesn't really care if he lives or dies anymore, and that's about the nicest thought he's had in a long while.
Role: Dragen is a cleric, and a good archer thanks to his zen archery feats and war domain.
Name: Dragen Kessler
Class: Cleric 4
Race: Human
Hit Dice: (4d8 +8) 34 HP
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 17(18), flatfooted 15(16), touch 12(13) (10 +2 Dex +5 armor (+1 shield))
Base Attack Bonus: +3
Grapple: +2
Attacks: +2 melee, +5 ranged, +3 (1d6-1, Shortspear, Masterwork); +9 (1d8, +1 Darkwood Longbow)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Human Traits, Cleric Domains (Celerity, War)
Special Attacks: Turn Undead
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +3, Will +8
Abilities: Strength 8, Dexterity 14, Constitution 14, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 18, Charisma 10
Skills: Concentration +9 (7 ranks), Heal +11 (7 ranks), Knowledge (religion) +11 (7 ranks), Spellcraft +9 (7 ranks), Spot + 7 (3 ranks), Tumble +2 (.5 ranks)
Feats: Simple Weapon Proficiency, Light Armor Proficiency, Medium Armor Proficiency, Heavy Armor Proficiency, Shield Proficiency, Weapon Proficiency (Longbow), Weapon Focus (Longbow), Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Zen Archery
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Elven, Orc
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity: None
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 150 lbs
Spells:
Cleric Spells Per Day: 5/3+1/2+1
Inventory:
2 gp 9 sp 5 cp
+1 Darkwood Longbow (2,405 gp)
Arrows (50) (3 gp)
Shortspear, Masterwork (301 gp)
+1 Leafweave, elven Leather (1,910 gp)
Darkwood Shield (257 gp)
Scarf of Warmth (250 gp)
Bit and bridle (2 gp)
Horse, heavy (200 gp)
Saddle, military (20 gp)
Saddlebags (4 gp)
Bedroll (1 sp)
Candle (3) (3 cp)
Flint and steel (1 gp)
Lantern, hooded (7 gp)
Oil (pint) (6) (6 sp)
Pouch, belt (1 gp)
Rope, silk (50 ft.) (10 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Signal whistle (8 sp)
Snowshoes (15 gp)
Tent, One-Person (5 gp)
Whetstone (2 cp)
[/sblock]
Fighter
[sblock]Dragen Kessler
History: The village that Dragen Kessler was born in stood above the chilly, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was never particularly pleasant or fruitful, being a mere jut of land and an inn beside a poorly kept ferry, but it was home. The village suffered greatly during the War as regular visits from the Royal Swords conscripted the young people of the village for service in the army. Most never returned.
Even when Dragen was a boy, the empty houses and fields stood as a testament to the lasting effects of the war. Dragen however, was taken by in by it all. When the soldiers would come marching into town he would dream of following them off to war, and following the Red Wolf of Karrnath into battle. Once he was old enough, he fled in the night without so much as a whispered goodbye to his mother to join himself.
Military life however, wasn't exactly as Dragen expected. While Dragen could salute and march with the best of them, it was plain to see by the time he reached the middle of his training that he would never be a proper soldier. He was too wild, too independent, and damningly - too insubordinate. Despite his obvious talents, Dragen was sent to fill posts in a seemingly endless string of reserve posts.
As the war for Dragen moved along, he saw more and more of his fellow soldiers being promoted and moved to the front lines and became more and more disillusioned with his former patriotism. Eventually, denied one last ditch effort at gaining a commission from his seniority, Dragen slipped away in the night - turning his back upon his country as they had done on him.
Given how tumultuous the times were, it was no wonder that no one came looking for Dragen. He begged for food in the larger cities, or made some simple coin bouncing tables at out of the way inns and taverns. Years passed, and he found himself mixed up in rough and tumble mercenary company doing the jobs that were both too dirty for the proud warriors of Karrnath to do, and too delicate for the legions of undead that filled the gaps in Karrnath's shattered defenses.
Then a simple raid changed Dragen's life.
Sent across the border to retaliate for a minor intrusion by the Valenar, Dragen watched the horrors of war spill from his own soul and his companions onto a helpless village. The warriors of the Valenar were gone from the village into Karrnath. A scared child with a rock. Not a single survivor.
When the magnitude of what they had just done sank in, Dragen was horrified. When the Valenar caught the mercenaries unawares while they tried to slip back into Karnnath, even the most hardened soul among his companions shared that horror. One by one and in groups, the hired army was hounded and slaughtered across the plains and scattered.
That was four years ago, and Dragen hasn't truly stopped running. As he made his way across rural Karnnath he ventured toward the village where he grew up, only to find empty ruined house after house with no sign of survivors. Most of the real valuables had apparently been taken by scavengers, but in the clutter of his childhood home he was able to find the locket of his father that his mother always wore. That and the bright red tattoo of the Wolf of Karnnath on his chest he had done when he enlisted are virtually the only reminders of his past that Dragen tolerates.
In the Lhazaar Provinces, Dragen found a place suitable for his temperament - where few people asked questions about things that don't concern them and where even the large evils and concerns of those around him seemed tolerable by their smaller scale. Peace doesn't weigh heavily upon Dragen's soul though. Too often he found his nights eased by the sweet bliss of strong drink, and recently the former soldier has come to understand that he's likely merely exchanged one horror in his past for a slower, more insidious one in his future. Dragen struggles to understand within himself the nature of the evil and cawardice he believes he has began to personify, while ever looking over his shoulder for the demons that chase him in nightmares to come strike at him.
Appearance: Dragen would likely be unremarkable to almost anyone except for his gaunt, haunted eyes. His dark hair is dusted with premature gray flecks like his grizzled-looking five o'clock shadow, and he's definitely lost hair and often shows off a slight sunburn at the nearly naked top of his head. His craggy features never smile more than the wry twist of his lips that follows his gallows humor. His clothing is mostly unwashed linens with many mends and stains, and across his chest is an enormous tattoo of a red wolf.
Personality: Dragen is a broken man already resigned to his fate, trying to cling to the ideals that once offered him some sort of solace while hiding from the demons of his past. He's often sullen and sarcastic, or defeatist, and yet he has a strange tenacity for life. Sometimes he's merely the shadow of his former self, but part of him knows that this is almost literally the end of the line for him. While not exactly comforting, the notion brings a certain sort of dark joy to his wounded heart. Dragen doesn't really care if he lives or dies anymore, and that's the most dangerous thought he can imagine.
Name: Dragen Kessler
Class: Fighter 4
Race: Human
Hit Dice: 4d10+8, 41 HP
Initiative: +4
Speed: 20 ft
Armor Class: 19 (10 +8 armor +1 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +4
Grapple: +5
Attacks: +6 (2d6+1 Greatsword, MW); +10 (1d8+2, Longbow, MW)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Human Traits
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +1
Abilities: Strength 12, Dexterity 18, Constitution 15, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 10
Skills: Handle Animal +1 (1 rank), Heal +1 (1 rank), Intimidate +7 (7 ranks), Ride +11 (7 ranks), Search +5 (3 ranks), Spot +3 (3 ranks) , Survival +3 (3 ranks)
Feats: Armor Proficiency: heavy, Armor Proficiency: light, Armor Proficiency: medium, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot, Sharp-Shooting, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Tower Shield Proficiency, Weapon Focus (Longbow), Weapon Specialization (Longbow)
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Dwarven
Alignment: Neutral Good
Deity:
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Height: 5'5
Weight: 145 lbs
Inventory:
1 sp 3 cp 13 gp
Longbow, Masterwork (375 gp)
Arrows (50), Masterwork (350 gp)
Greatsword, Masterwork (350 gp)
Full plate, Masterwork (1,650 gp)
Bit and bridle (2 gp)
Horse, light (75 gp)
Saddle, pack (5 gp)
Saddlebags (4 gp)
Backpack (2 gp)
Bedroll (1 sp)
Blanket, winter (5 sp)
Caltrops (1 gp)
Candle (2) (2 cp)
Flint and steel (1 gp)
Lantern, hooded (7 gp);
Mug, clay (2 cp)
Pouch, belt (1 gp)
Rope, hemp (50 ft.) (1 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Signal whistle (2) (16 sp)
Sewing needle (5 sp)
Tent (10 gp)
Waterskin (full) (1 gp)
Whetstone (2 cp)
Oil (pint) (6) (6 sp)
Rations, trail (per day) (7) (35 sp)
Courtier`s outfit (30 gp)
Explorer`s outfit (10 gp)
Ring of Sustenance (2,500 gp)[/sblock]
Wizard
[sblock]
Shyjael
History: The village that Shyjael was born in stood above the lush, high banked shores of the Mror River in Karrnath. The village was ever pleasant and fruitful, despite being a mere jut of land and a human inn beside a poorly kept ferry, but it was home. As more and more humans moved into the lands surrounding Shyjael's village, the population waned, but none so much as when the new human kingdom suffered it's great schism of succession and the humans began warring upon each other. The village suffered greatly during the War as regular visits from the Royal Swords conscripted the warriors of the village for service in the army, but still the warrior spirit of Shyjael's anscestors maintained their spirits and peace.
Even when Shyjael was a boy though, it was clear that he was different. Village doors would remain closed for him, as they opened for others. Though elves are not prone to teasing, Shyjael was quietly shunned by his fellows instead of being rejoined in. As a consequence, Shyjael began to spend more and more time near the human inn, socializing in his stunted fashion with humans, and turning his back upon his people's traditions. When the soldiers came marching into town he one day, he finally turned his back on his people forever and left to find his destiny with the humans. Without so much as a whispered goodbye to the rest of his people, Shyjael became a soldier.
As a soldier, Shyjael's talents were sorely tested. However, he persevered and began his training in earnest by steady application of himself in the magical arts. While his talents were modest, his potential was great; and Shyjael soon found himself enrolled in Riddenmark...(I don't have time to finish this one right now, because I have to leave for family stuff. I'll try to finish it tonight or tomorrow. Highlights: Shyjael is an albino version of the others, with perhaps a little less angst and more high adventure)
Appearance:
Personality:
Name: Shyjael
Class: Wizard 4
Race: Elf, Karrnath
Hit Dice: 4d4 +4, 17 HP
Initiative: +4
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 14, touch 14, flatfooted 10 (10 +4 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +2
Grapple: +1
Attacks: +2 (1d8-1, Longsword, MW); +8 (1d8, +1 Longbow)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Immunity: Sleep Effects (Ex), Low-light Vision (Ex), +2 Saves vs. Enchantment Spells and Effects
Special Attacks: None
Saves: Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +4
Abilities: Strength 8, Dexterity 18, Constitution 12, Intelligence 18, Wisdom 10, Charisma 10
Skills: Concentration +8 (7 ranks), Heal +4 (2 ranks), Knowledge (Arcana) +11 (7 ranks), Knowledge (History) +11 (7 ranks), Listen +3 (1 rank), Search +2, Spellcraft +13 (7 ranks), Spot +4 (2 ranks), Survival +2 (2 ranks)
Feats: Point Blank Shot, Scribe Scroll, Weapon Focus (Longbow)
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Elven, Draconic, Goblin, Orc
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Gender: Male
Age: Right At Middle Age
Height: 5' 2"
Weight: 95 lbs
Spells Known (Wiz 4/4/3): 0 -- Acid Splash, Arcane Mark, Dancing Lights, Daze, Detect Magic, Detect Poison, Disrupt Undead, Flare, Ghost Sound, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Message, No Light, Open/Close, Preserve Organ, Prestidigitation, Ray of Frost, Read Magic, Repair Minor Damage, Repair Minor Damage, Resistance, Slash Tongue, Touch of Fatigue, Unnerving Gaze; 1st -- Disguise Self, Expeditious Retreat, Guided Shot, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Ray of Enfeeblement, Sleep, True Strike; 2nd -- Cat`s Grace, Melf`s Acid Arrow, Mirror Image, Protection from Arrows.
Spells Memorized (Wiz 4/4/3): 0 - Mage Hand, Mending, Message, Touch of Fatigue; 1st - Guided Shot, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, True Strike; 2nd - Cat`s Grace, Mirror Image, Protection from Arrows.
Inventory:
Longsword, Masterwork (315 gp)
+1 Longbow (2,375 gp)
Quiver of Ehlonna (1,800 gp)
Arrows (50), Masterwork (350 gp)
Healer`s kit, Masterwork (100 gp)
Signet ring (5 gp)
Everburning Torch (2) (220 gp)
Spellbook, wizard`s (15 gp)
Horse, light (75 gp)
Bit and bridle (2 gp)
Saddle, military (20 gp)
Saddlebags (4 gp)
Potion: Cure Light Wounds (CL1) (50 gp)
Coin: gp (83) (83 gp); Coin: sp (10) (10 sp)
Familiar
Unnamed Yet, Rat, Male Animal, Rat : CR 1/8; Tiny Animal ; HD 4d8 ( Animal) ; hp 6; Init + 2; Spd 15, Climb 15; AC 16; Atk + 0 base melee, + 6 base ranged; +6 ( 1d3-4, Bite ); SQ: Scent (Ex), Low-light Vision (Ex); AL N; SV Fort + 2, Ref + 4, Will + 5; STR 2, DEX 15, CON 10, INT 7, WIS 12, CHA 2.
Skills: Balance +10, Climb +12, Concentration +7, Heal +5.5, Hide +14, Listen +2, Move Silently +10, Search +6, Spot +4, Survival +2, Swim +10.
Feats: Weapon Finesse.[/sblock]
As I note in the wizard entry, that one's not entirely fleshed out in print yet. I've got company coming soon, so I don't think I'm going to be able to manage to finish it until later on tonight. The other two versions though are probably as complete as they're going to be until I've got a nod to whether or not my character has made it and which other characters would be surrounding it.
We'll see how his background develops. Also, such a strict honour code has its own flaws built in.
