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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Mannahnin" data-source="post: 8477339" data-attributes="member: 7026594">Ok, here's at least a passable take.  There's a couple of other tacks I considered, but let's go with....Håkan the HorribleTrollborn (Half-Orc, reskinned) Fighter 4 / BattlemasterBackground: PirateAlign: CNAppearance: 6’, long-armed and massive. Only 20ish, but weatherbitten. His skin has an odd greenish cast and patches of what appear to be scales showing through the raw patches. Scraggly bits of black beard complement lank black hair, which also seems to have a weird, sea-green tint to it.Str: 18 (Drafted 14, drafted +2, Trollborn +2)Dex: 14 (Drafted 13, Trollborn +1)Con: 18 (Drafted 16, drafted +2)Int: 8 (Default)Wis: 12 (Drafted Wild)Cha: 8 (Default)AC: 16 (Breastplate, Dex), 18 if he wields a shield for some reasonHD: 4d10, average total HP: 44Saves: Str +6, Dex +2, Con +6, Int -1, Wis +1, Cha -1.Proficiencies: All armor, all shields, Simple and Martial weapons, Navigator’s Tools, Vehicles (water), Athletics, Perception, Insight, Survival, IntimidationClass features: Great Weapon Fighting, Second Wind, Action Surge, Battlemaster Maneuvers (Menacing Attack, Tripping Attack, Pushing Attack)Racial Features: Darkvision, Menacing, Relentless Endurance, Savage AttacksFeats: Great Weapon MasterNotable equipment: Greatsword +1, Breastplate, Shield, Javelins, 1 healing potion, two other uncommon consumables per the guidelines but I haven’t picked.Håkan is from whatever culture in campaign has seaborne raiders. Among that people occasionally are seen the Trollborn- folk who manifest ancient monster blood, usually of great physical power and cunning, though uncanny and marked with inhuman features. Rarely are they trusted, though their talents may make them valued. Håkan’s mother Hulda took good care of him, but at each apprenticeship he managed to offend his master somehow and lose his place. Ill-chosen words, a surly tongue, incessant grumbling. First the blacksmith, then the stonemason, and finally three different farmers in succession! Hulda next hoped to make him a herdsman, but sheep seemed to think he smelled of predator, and that was hopeless.Hulda despaired, until she heard tales that Kjell the Red, a sea captain known for trading and bold raids on foreign folk, and his ship the Red Hawk, were in a nearby port town. Rumors said he would accept any man as crew who could heft a sword and ply an oar. Life at sea was risky, but perhaps this was fate? She sent her son to try. Håkan had always loathed the smell of the sea, but he went. Kjell sized him up and was well pleased. He only laughed at the youth's ill-spoken words, saying “If you can heft a sword and not cut yourself or your shield mate, that’s enough. I can see by your shoulders that you can pull an oar!”And so Håkan went to sea. He never came to like the sea, but for some reason was never seasick. His stomach seemed able to tolerate the worst of food, his hide the worst of weather, barely feeling the sting of salt or wind. At 6’ he was never the tallest sailor, but his arms were long, and grew ever more massive from rowing and work. And in battle… there he turned out to have true talent. Every bit of grumbling resentment at the world and the stinking sea he channeled through a sword, and he roared in battle like a beast, foes quailing before him. Tricks he learned, or invented, to trip an enemy, or throw them overboard at a stroke. Over two years he won glory, a little money, and the respect of the men beside him, though he was never well liked. Uncanny. Always grumbling. And he healed from wounds faster than any man should.Then one day Kjell found a perfect target for a raid- a wealthy village at the edge of (campaign setting kingdom), part of its garrison away, off dealing with (appropriate local monster threat) at another nearby town. The crew of the Red Hawk fell on it, and Håkan found himself blade to blade with the leader of the guards remaining- a greybearded but doughty champion wielding a shining great sword, flickering with an uncanny light as it cut. Håkan managed to defeat him, and took up the blade in triumph, only to have it claimed as the Captain’s share when Kjell came to the scene.That night the ship put into a sheltered cove, and while the other men drank their success, Håkan grumbled to himself. Stinking sea. Thieving Captain. “If you can heft a sword, ‘ey?” That night while the Captain was still drinking, Håkan slit the back of his tent and hefted the sword from where it lay, walking off into the night. Surely, there would be work somewhere for a fighter of his talents. Hopefully some place that didn’t stink of the sea…</blockquote>

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