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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ethandrew" data-source="post: 3325590" data-attributes="member: 17456">Rupert NightstriderMale Halfling Rogue 4 | Ranger 2 | Barbarian 1Alignment: CNAbilities: (29)STR - 6 (0 Points, -2 Racial)DEX - 20 (13 Points, +1 @ 4th Level, +2 Racial)CON - 12 (4 Points)INT - 16 (10 Points)WIS - 8 (0 Points)CHA -10 (2 Points)HP: 6+3d6+2d8+1d12+7 = 55Speed: 30ftInitiative: +5AC: 22 (+5 Armor, +1 Shield, +5 Dex, +1 Size)Saves:Fort: 8Reflex: 12Will: 2BAB/Grapple: +6/+0Weapons:+1 Bane Sling Versus Undead: +14/+9 1d3+1 x2 50ft rangeClass Abilities:Sneak Attack - 2d6EvasionUncanny DodgeTrapfindingTrapsense +1Favored Enemy - UndeadTrackWild EmpathyCombat Style - Rapid ShotFast MovementRageRacial Abilities:+2 Dex, -2 Str+2 Bonus on Climb, Jump, Move Silently+1 Bonus on Saving Throws+2 Bonus on Saves versus Fear+1 Bonus on attack rolls with thrown weapons and slings+2 Bonus on ListenFavored Class: RogueSkills:Balance - 7 (0 ranks + 5 Dex + 2 Synergy)Climb - 0 (0 Ranks - 2 Str + 2 Racial)Decipher Script - 10 (7 Ranks + 3 Int)Disable Device - 12 (7 Ranks + 2 Ranks CC + 3 Int)Escape Artist - 12 (7 Ranks + 5 Dex)Hide - 18 (8 Ranks + 1 Rank CC + 5 Dex + 4 Size)Listen - 10 (9 Ranks - 1 Wis + 2 Racial)Move Silently - 16 (7 Ranks + 2 Ranks CC + 5 Dex + 2 Racial)Open Lock - 15 (7 Ranks + 3 Ranks CC + 5 Dex)Search - 18 (10 Ranks + 5 Goggles + 3 Int)Sleight of Hand - 12 (7 Ranks + 5 Dex)Spot - 8 (9 Ranks - 1 Wis)Survival - 2 (1 Rank - 1 Wis + 2 Synergy)Tumble - 12 (7 Ranks + 5 Dex)Feats:Point Blank ShotPrecise ShotEquipment:+1 Mithral Chain ShirtDarkwood Buckler+1 Bane of Undead SlingRing of SustenanceBoots of LevitationGoggles of Minute SeeingCloak of Resistance +1Heward's Handy Haversack.Physical Appearance: Stands tall at 3'2", weighing in at a massive 36 lbs. This 30 year-old halfling keeps his jet-black hair pulled tight in a knot behind his head, which he will let loose to cover his face when he is up to his more devious actions. He has equally as black eyes, and a tanned complexion with a faint trace of freckles smattering his high-raised cheeks.Background: [sblock]As an adolescent Rupert accompanied his family in the not-so-famous Tripmin's Travelling Troupe. His father was the sword-swallower, had been his whole life. In fact, that's where his father and mother met, she was from a newer family with the troupe and had been just a simple chore-doer (she was the master cook when Rupert was there (which was probably why his father 'courted' her, as she was an incredible chef (and subsequently, Rupert's favourite item is his ring of not-needing-to-eat, since he's never had food better than his mother's and has grown weary of substandard crap))). Growing up he was found to have a keen eye and a quicker hand, about the only thing quicker Rupert possessed was his temper. With his dextrous aptitude, Rupert was ushered into the performer's group, where he was apprenticed to the Knife-Thrower. He was a natural, better than the master on even his first day. To this day, Rupert has never missed a target, ever! He has always hit where he has aimed.For a few years he oohed and aahed with his fast hands, being able to shoot one knife after another at his multiple targets, dazzling the crowd with his hands. Rupert eventually got bored of his routine, even the most dangerous of acts were so ingrained in his body and reflexes that he got no thrill. He accompanied two of his younger friends into a nearby town one evening; one dark, quiet evening. After a few rounds at a pretty nice pub, they were on their way back to the camp when they took a wrong turn down a pretty swanky street. Mansions littered the road, compounds bigger than their whole caravan stretched out long and wide. They'd never seen such extravagance. Slipping through the bars, the three men snuck onto a beautiful manor, complete with fountains, stables, and what looked like some man-made square pond with straight concrete walls falling into the ground forming a flat bottom. Rupert noticed a third floor window open, signalled to his friends to remain hidden, and quickly scaled the wall, using gutters and ledges. Disappearing inside the window, he deftly slunk through hallways and doors, opening a few just a crack (he was amazed at how well-oiled these up-scale places keep their door hinges). Having been gone only a minute it seemed, Rupert opened the window directly above his friends' heads. The three of them explored around a bit, surprised by the lack of security. They took a few minor items before testing their luck anymore and proceeded out of the compound. Rupert had his friends leave through the window they came in from, while he retraced his original steps, closing all doors and climbing back down through the third story window.This rush was greater than any he had ever experienced from his routine. It was so invigorating! And he managed to filch a few items he found particularily interesting too! Whenever the Troupe would stop into a new town, Rupert would sneak into the luxurious houses of the area, acquiring a few choice items, some even, as he would incredulously find out, had some unique abilities.Just outside of Sacred Rock one summer, a group of well-to-doers were watching the performance. One in particular, a nasty looking halfling with an arsenal of thugs, would flirt with every woman within sight. After the meal, he was so impressed he insisted on meeting the cook. Upon seeing her, his hands moved faster than lightning, grabbing her thigh and back, pulling her onto his lap, gripping her tightly and not letting her go. A seething Rupert watched. During his performance, Rupert asked for a volunteer (raising the eyebrows of other troupe-members, since he always had a variety of "assistants"), surprisingly enough, the heavily drunk well-to-doer halfling shot up his hand, much to the praise of his entourage. Rupert had him line up against the wall with his arms splayed out wide and his legs spread. Grabbing four daggers with his back turned to the target, Rupert quickly spun and shot the first one right below the man's right armpit. With a look of shock in his eyes, the man showed great testicular fortitude in remaining still, not wanting to appear the craven. Rupert then flung a knife high into the air. With one smooth motion, caught it by the tip and hurled it to land right below the man's left armpit. The man's chest heaved, yet he stayed still. Standing facing the man, Rupert stared him down, a knife in each hand. He stared at him as statues would, the crowds' bated breath waiting in anticipation. Finally, in a flash, Rupert threw the third dagger, the revolutions breaking the air in soft curls, punctuated by a hum as it buried into the wood beneath the man's groin. Looking down quickly, the man inspected the damage, finding none. Yet his drunkeness took offense and he charged out in anger. Before he could take his second step, however, Rupert had thrown his last dagger at the man, the blade connecting squarely into his larynx with a crunch. Dropping quickly to his knees, the man grabbed the blade and pulled it out, spraying blood every which way. Never to take a breath again, he died. Those of his companions who were not too drunk or stunned to act, rushed the stage. Rupert, however, was ready. Pulling knifes from who-knows-where, he threw them all, one for each assailant, all of them striking true. He never missed a target. Ever.Needless to say the performance was done. The troupe quickly dismantled and left town. A week out of town, heading up the Quicksake near Bridshin, Rupert left for the evening. Much maligned by Tripmin himself, he had been isolating himself this past week. Finding refuge in a small wood, Rupert's ruminations were punctured by distant screams. Hustling back to camp, he could see a red glow hover above the campsite. Running as fast as possible, yet still a ways away, Rupert could see struggling silhouettes. Large, cumbersome, awkward looking bodies overtook small, frantic ones. Upon gaining visual acuity, he could see these creatures attacking the troupe, who were pathetically trying to fend off these unworldly beasts with torches. Sprinting to his families' wagon, he came upon half-decayed humanoids feasting upon his parents. Enraged, he immediately attacked, felling the foul beasts that killed his family. The noise, however, brought many, many more to his area. Knowing he couldn't defeat them all, and having a penchant for life, he quickly gathered his belonging in the precious few seconds he had and fled.[/sblock]</blockquote>

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