Name:
Arlis Duskrider, “the Blind-Fighter”
Human Male Ex-Monk/Barbarian/Fighter 2/2/4
Str: 18, Dex: 15(17), Con: 12, Int: 10, Wis: 15(17), Cha:9
Description:
Arlis is a massive figure, standing over six feet tall as is sometimes seen for those of Damaran descent. His entire frame is heavily muscled, and his foes are sometimes taken unaware when he proves how limber he is as well. His ancestry shows itself through his ice-white skin, short-cropped blond hair, and blue eyes. His eyes are rarely seen, however, as they are typically covered by a bandage that has been stained brown over time by head injuries that have bled into it unchecked. Having lived a hard life, often on the wrong side of the axe, his body is scarred in many places from cuts gone untreated. Though numerous, none of the scars differentiate Arlis from any other mercenary in the Realms. He bears his chest to the world, exposing the scars for all to see. People shake their heads in disbelief on cold Sword Coast evenings when Arlis arrives, not even shivering. They mutter that he must have been borne to a Frost giant to be so inured to the cold. His cleanly shaven face might have even been called attractive, if not for the bandage and his other tattered clothing. Arlis doesn’t seem to let anything bother him, the least of which is his clothes. He wears a pair of frayed breeches that allows him to move freely, much like the Broken Ones of his native, frigid land. Often times, Arlis can be seen crouched on an outcropping of rock, staring off at something unseen, his eyebrow cocked as he attempts to identify the sound. His lips are usually pressed together unless quietly giving advice to others or opened wide in a battlecry.
Background:
Born to unknown parents of Damaran origin, Arlis grew up at a monastery dedicated to Ilmater. As one of the Adorned, he was able to travel with other Ilmatari to aid border villages ravaged by Vaasan orcs. On one of these trips, the group arrived at the town too late. Many lie dead and there were signs of abductions as well. Infuriated with the devastation, Arlis volunteered to travel forth with the paladins and slaughter the orcs while most of the other Broken Ones remained behind to assist the remaining villagers. Only nominally tried in combat before this, Arlis was now exposed to the thrill of combat. He relished bringing vengeance upon the orcs, and taunted the god of the orcs, Gruumsh One-Eye, with his every kill. His blasphemous exclamations continued until he brought his fist down upon the shaman of the orc tribe. For his fist crushing the orc shaman’s windpipe was the last thing he saw.
Arlis traveled with the group from town to town, blinded by his own pride. None in the towns could help him. He ended up leaving the group of priests and booking passage to the Sword Coast…he assumed that he would be able to find an answer in Waterdeep, the City of Spendors. No one could cure his condition in Waterdeep, though he did find out why. The orc he killed last was infused with Gruumsh’s power for the last moments of his life. With that time, he blinded Arlis with a curse that none could break.
Angered, he fled into the wilds to the north. There, he found a bit of comfort in a barbarian tribe that took him in and taught him that he could relieve his pent up anger by lashing out against orcs streaming down from the Spine of the World. Though it required that he give up his life thus far, Arlis relished this time, lost in his rage.
It was an encounter with an old comrade from Damara that brought Arlis to the balanced place he is today. This monk told Arlis that if he strove for perfection, he could become one with his surroundings. He would, in effect, gain a limited ability to see things around him. The monk told him that these were the first of the teachings of a long lost Grand Master, named Sorgeth. The rest had been lost to the world, though they must exist in some form, or there must be a way to re-invent them.
Since that time, Arlis has worked on perfecting his art. He uses a magical quarterstaff to great effect, interspersing its attacks with kicks and jabs. His strength allows him to cleave through his foes and launch devastating attacks. His keen sense of hearing that he has developed over the years allows him to even attack opponents at range, using a set of bolas he keeps at his belt. The gloves he wears to protect his hands are actually magical Gloves of Dexterity +2, and his muscled forearms are guarded by Bracers of Armor +3. He moves as quietly as the wind in his Boots of Elvenkind, but when he can’t avoid combat, his Ring of Protection +1, and his Amulet of Wisdom +2 keep him protected by allowing him to deflect or dodge blows.
)
