Girri, LG Variant Human Bard 1
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Deity: Istus
Goddess of fate and destiny
Weaver's spindle with three strands
HP: 8/8
AC: 13 (leather armor)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30
Saves: Dexterity, Charisma
Languages: Common, Halfling (race), Vistari (background)
Musical Instrument Proficiencies (3): Voice, Kobza (see equipment), Fiddle
Passive Perception: +4
STR: 8
DEX: 15*
CON: 10
INT: 12
WIS: 14
CHA: 15*
*+1 from Variant Human[/section]
[sblock=Nuts]
Spellcasting:
Spell Save DC: 12
Spell attack modifier: +4
Cantrips (2): light,
prestidigitation
1st level (2/2): cure wounds,
dissonant whispers,
faerie fire,
sleep
Bardic Inspiration: Girri can use this feature a number of times equal to her Charisma modifier (2/2), and regains uses after finishing a long rest. As a bonus action, choose one creature other than yourself within 60' who can hear you. That creature gains one Bardic Inspiration die, a d6. Once within the next 10 minutes, the creature can roll the die and add the number rolled to one ability check, attack roll, or saving throw. The creature can wait until after it rolls the d20 before deciding to use the Bardic Inspiration die, but must decide before the DM says whether the roll succeeds or fails. A creature can have only one Bardic Inspiration die at a time.
Attack:
Bladed Scarf +4, 1d4+2, finesse, 10 ft reach
Dagger +4, 1d4+2, thrown, finesse, light, 20'
Dagger +4, 1d4+2, melée, finesse, light
Feat: Skilled: Arcana, Investigation, Perception
Background: Gypsy (Custom)
Feature: Palm Reader: You automatically know one significant event in an individual's history just from touching or seeing the life lines on their palm.
Skills: Insight, Sleight of Hand
Language: Vistari
Tool Proficiency:Thieves' tools
Traits:
I see omens in every event and action. Istus speaks, we must listen.
Flattery is my preferred trick for getting what I want.
Ideal: I am a free spirit -- no one tells me what to do. Except when I am
geased. See bond, below.
Bond: I am
geased to do good and serve justice, and serve at the pleasure of the Lower Court in Waterdeep
Flaw: I attract trouble.
Skills:
Acrobatics 4 (race)
Animal Handling 2
Arcana 3 (feat)
Athletics -1
Deception 2
History 1
Insight 4 (background)
Intimidation 2
Investigation 3 (feat)
Medicine 2
Nature 1
Perception 4 (feat)
Performance 4 (bard)
Persuasion 4 (bard)
Religion 1
Sleight of Hand 4 (background)
Stealth 4 (bard)
Survival 2
Equipment:
Bladed scarf
Dagger
Leather armor
Entertainer's pack
[sblock=Kobza]
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[sblock=Description]Girri is twenty-eight and attractive, if hard-looking. Locks of dark hair escape a patterned headscarf, framing blue eyes both quick and calculating--when not shrouded in a Shiver-induced fever. Girri dresses in layers of colorful scarves, beneath which she sports piecemeal leather armor. She's proud of her armor; it was hard work stealing it a piece at a time off drunk and wanton men. Girri has a quick smile and likes a joke, but guards herself against the overly inquisitive. Her humor and charm are defense mechanisms; despite a mirthful exterior, Girri is a cynic. The world has burned her one too many times, and she is slow to trust. Still, her heart is good. She's a thief, but then again thieving is necessary when you've no kin and no connections. Girri prefers to stay in the middle of the pack. She blends in better in the center of a crowd, where she isn't as open to attack from her vulnerable front and rear. Her freshly kicked drug addition and wintertime Consumption conspire to preclude good health; Girri is weak. Neither strong nor particularly hale, Girri is not well-suited to be a front-line fighter. She is, however, wise, sinuous, and crafty; Girri uses her daggers from a distance when possible, preferring to throw rather than stab. She also keeps a scarf woven through with secreted razors, which she uses as a reach weapon. Girri dabbles in prophecy and dreams. The former she learned from Mother Crone, the latter comes from her Roma heritage. Girri's loyalty is hard-won but once given is unlikely to be retracted. She hasn't any friends, and so her loneliness makes her vulnerable.[/sblock]
[sblock=Background]Born in the haberdasherie district of Waterdeep to a mother of Vistari descent, Girri learned the city streets at an early age: the best pick-pocketing is done in the temple district on worship-day morning; warm bread for one's belly is obtained quicker by theft than by baking it oneself; men are fools for women; and trouble comes to those overly finicky about their next bed and meal. Likely Lamm, a Waterdhaven caravaner, bartered for the sale of Girri from her indigent mother when Girri was eight. He wanted Girri for his Little Lamms, a crew of child pick-pockets, but Girri bit him and proved too recalcitrant to train. Lamm sold her to the stoop-backed Mother Crone of Bent Trace Futures, where Girri has served as shop girl for the last twenty years. Sweeping the floor, preparing the old Crone's gruel, polishing the seer's "reliquary" on display in the reading room, hawking for customers--until last autumn, these filled Girri's days. By saving the occasional tip dropped by a customer (gone unnoticed by the old lady) and honest street thieving, Girri bought her freedom from Mother Crone and, leaving the Futurities shop on Bent Trace, set off for the city docks in the middle district hoping to ply the tidbits of fate-telling she'd gleaned over the years.
Without a roof over her head, however, winter got the better of Girri. When Lamm chanced upon her one night in a dank hole-in-the-wall taproom, Girri had already fallen to Consumption. Lamm's promise that a little Shiver would warm her sounded good, so she paid with the small coins she had. True to his word, the Shiver made Girri
feel warmer. The hard truth, however, was that the drug gave the girl a false sense of well-being. Cold, on the streets in the dead of winter, and down to her last three coppers, Girri took to overnighting in doorways and under dock pilings. When Lamm raised the price of dose of Shiver, Girri found herself without means to maintain her addiction. She compensated by upping her thieving. Two convictions for petty theft in nine months was merely the price of doing business. The third conviction, however, went less well. Magistrate Feek, tired of seeing a repeat customer in his courtroom and wanting to implement a political pet project, deemed Girri's third offense punishable by
geas; it was cheaper for the city to magically bind Girri to good behavior than to waste the Court's docket enforcing a restitution order from yet another judgment-proof defendant. When the Magistrate pronounced her sentence--to be carried out immediately--Girri was outraged. They'd dare to force her to do good, serve justice, and abide by the law?! She'd show them but good, and started immediately by insulting the Court.
Feek watched from the bench as his bailiff called upon the Oath of the Crown, wove the spell, and the
geas seeped into Girri's skin. The girl was a wretch. Fury littered her eyes, and she foamed at the mouth as she pulled at her restraints, spittle and insults flying. Feek's eyes glittered with enmity. He decided not to tell her the spell was permanent.[/sblock]
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