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<blockquote data-quote="wikkawikkawa" data-source="post: 2912329" data-attributes="member: 17620"><p>Here's my submission: Faer "the Cloak" Ennenn</p><p></p><p>Stats (I'd prefer that only the DM see this)</p><p>[sblock]Name: Faer “the Cloak” Ennenn</p><p></p><p><em>“Who says a Gnome can’t put up a fight? Just remember, my sword arm is level with your crotch.”</em></p><p></p><p>Class: Fighter 4</p><p>Race: Gnome</p><p>Hit Dice 4d10+12 (44)</p><p>Initiative: +3</p><p>Speed: 20 ft.</p><p>Armor Class: 18 (10 Base + 4 Armor + 3 Dexterity + 2 Shield +1 Dodge)</p><p>Base Attack Bonus: +4</p><p>Grapple: +1</p><p>Attacks: Swordcatcher +7 (1d4+4/19-20/x2/slashing) or Light Crossbow (1d6/19-20/x2/80 ft.)</p><p>Full Attack: Swordcatcher +7 (1d4+4/19-20/x2/slashing) or Light Crossbow (1d6/19-20/x2/80 ft.)</p><p>Face/Reach: 5x5/5 ft.</p><p>Special Qualities: Gnome Traits (Exceptions: Proficiency with Hooked Hammer switched with Swordcatcher) </p><p>Special Attacks: </p><p>Saves: Fortitude +7, Reflex +4, Will +1</p><p>Abilities: Strength 13, Dexterity 16, Constitution 16, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 11</p><p>Skills: Climb 7, Intimidate 7, Jump 7, Swim 7</p><p>Feats: Combat Expertise, Dodge, Improved Disarm, Weapon Focus: Gnome Swordcatcher, Weapon Specialization: Gnome Swordcatcher</p><p>Languages: Common, Gnome, Dwarven, Goblin</p><p>Alignment: Neutral Evil</p><p>Deity: None</p><p>Gender: Male</p><p>Age: 56</p><p>Height: 3’5”</p><p>Weight: 45 lbs.</p><p></p><p>Inventory: 308 gold</p><p>+1 Gnome Swordcatcher (1318)</p><p>+1 Chain Shirt (1200)</p><p>+1 Gnome Battle Cloak (1005)</p><p>Light Crossbow (18)</p><p>20 Crossbow Bolts (2)</p><p>Backpack (2)</p><p>- Sunrod x5 (10)</p><p>- Crowbar (2)</p><p>- Silk Rope (50 ft; 10)</p><p>- Grappling Hook (1)</p><p>Belt Pouch x2 (2)</p><p>- Cure Light Wounds Potion x3 (100)</p><p>- Oil of Grease x3 (100)</p><p>[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>Appearance: </p><p>[sblock]Appearance: Faer stands tall, his thin and wiry frame appearing deceptively fragile. Dull sky blue eyes shift about uncomfortably, highlighting his high cheekbones and his scruffy silver hair and the small beard at his chin. Down the left side of his face are two shoulder length locks of hair which curl up near the end. Wrapped around his shoulders and draped over his right arm is a cloak of midnight blue velvet, the inner weavings of it strung with miniscule wires which reinforce the lining. The hem of the article of clothing is heavy, as chain-woven links of metal run through it. Knee-high boots of soft brown leather (in which two Gnome-sized daggers are tucked into) cover the gnome’s feet and gray leggings cover the lower half of his body, while a shirt of finely woven chain and a dark blue tunic cover his upper. At his hip is buckled a heavy pronged sword, a rare weapon to be seen at all today.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>Background: Public Version</p><p>[sblock]House Kundarak, the bearers of the Dragonmark of Warding, has small use for skilled warriors. One of their few warriors was Faer “Cloak” Ennenn, a Gnomish swordsman of small regard. Faer, as a young man, left his home in Reven to become a soldier, much to the shame of his parents. The stereotypical Gnome outlook on warfare is that it is a complete and utter waste of time. </p><p></p><p>“Waste it may be, but it’s also necessary.” Faer said as he stormed out, his bags packed and slung over his shoulder. As he learned his craft of the blade from the dwarven warriors of Zalanberg, Faer grumbled to himself quietly and bitterly. “I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.” </p><p></p><p>Eventually, Faer found himself in Trolanport, the capital of Zilargo. He searched for a job, mercenary work, bounty hunting, anything would suffice as long as it put some coin in his pocket. House Kundarak found a small use for him, guarding their various storehouses and safes. After several months working as a sword for them, Faer was assigned to a very special task. </p><p></p><p>House Kundarak was sending a messenger, a man named Jorn along with an important message, to the city of Skairn, far away in the Lhazaar Principalities. Faer and several other adventurers were sent with him to keep him safe. After many weeks of traveling together, Faer became something of a friend to the men, boon companions of the road. Arriving at Skairn, Faer, Jorn and their companions made haste to a small building on the edge of the town. There, Jorn pulled a small scroll case from his bag and placed it onto the doorstep.</p><p></p><p>“Well, friend, it’s been good.” Jorn spoke slowly to his small companion. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you.”</p><p></p><p>“Why, what do you mean?” Faer asked.</p><p></p><p>Jorn calmly reached into has bag once more and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Faer. “Read it.”</p><p></p><p>Faer quietly opened the parchment, his eyes never breaking contact with the man that he called friend.</p><p></p><p> <strong>For the eyes of Mr. Faer Ennenn,</strong></p><p><strong> </strong></p><p><strong>Mr. Ennenn, House Kundarak thanks you for your invaluable service for us. However, we regret to inform you that due to unfortunate circumstances we are forced to terminate your employment to us. We apologize for any problems that this may cause.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Signed,</strong></p><p><strong> Destus Corrn,</strong></p><p><strong> House Kundarak</strong></p><p></p><p>Throwing the letter down, Faer walked away from his former friend in a glowering rage. Once they thought he was out of earshot, Faer could hear his former companions laughing at him…</p><p></p><p>Two weeks later, on the morning of Sol, Faer found himself sitting on the docks of the Tantamar Ferry, holding a recruitment letter firmly in his hand.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>DM VERSION! HIS EYES ONLY!</p><p>[sblock]House Kundarak, the bearers of the Dragonmark of Warding, has small use for skilled warriors. One of their few warriors was Faer “Cloak” Ennenn, a Gnomish swordsman of small regard. Faer, as a young man, left his home in Reven to become a soldier, much to the shame of his parents. The stereotypical Gnome outlook on warfare is that it is a complete and utter waste of time. </p><p></p><p>“Waste it may be, but it’s also necessary.” Faer said as he stormed out, his bags packed and slung over his shoulder. As he learned his craft of the blade from the dwarven warriors of Zalanberg, Faer grumbled to himself quietly and bitterly. “I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.” </p><p></p><p>Eventually, Faer found himself in Trolanport, the capital of Zilargo. He searched for a job, mercenary work, bounty hunting, anything would suffice as long as it put some coin in his pocket. House Kundarak found a small use for him, guarding their various storehouses and safes. After several months working as a sword for them, Faer was assigned to a very special task. </p><p></p><p>House Kundarak was sending a messenger, a man named Jorn along with an important message, to the city of Skairn, far away in the Lhazaar Principalities. Faer and several other adventurers were sent with him to keep him safe. After many weeks of traveling together, Faer became something of a friend to the men, boon companions of the road. Arriving at Skairn, Faer, Jorn and their companions made haste to a small building on the edge of the town. There, Jorn pulled a small scroll case from his bag and placed it onto the doorstep.</p><p></p><p>“Well, friend, it’s been good.” Jorn spoke slowly to his small companion. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you.”</p><p></p><p>“Why, what do you mean?” Faer asked.</p><p></p><p>Jorn calmly reached into has bag once more and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Faer. “Read it.”</p><p></p><p>Faer quietly opened the parchment, his eyes never breaking contact with the man that he called friend.</p><p></p><p><strong> For the eyes of Mr. Faer Ennenn,</strong></p><p><strong> </strong></p><p><strong>Mr. Ennenn, House Kundarak thanks you for your invaluable service for us. However, we regret to inform you that due to unfortunate circumstances we are forced to terminate your employment to us. We apologize for any problems that this may cause.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Signed,</strong></p><p><strong> Destus Corrn,</strong></p><p><strong> House Kundarak</strong></p><p></p><p>Throwing the letter down, Faer walked away from his former friend in a glowering rage. Once they thought he was out of earshot, Faer could hear his former companions laughing at him…</p><p></p><p>The next day, Jorn found himself on the pier of Skairn waiting for his ferry. The night was eerily silent, the only sound was the echoing footsteps of a small figure walking down the street. Jorn turned to see a cloaked figure, his hood up, but Jorn could tell who it was. That sword at his waste, the silver lock of hair running down from his head, that dark blue cloak, it gave it all away.</p><p></p><p>“Faer, what’re you doing here? I’m sorry about you being fired, but you have to understand it wasn’t my fault. It’s just business, I suppose. You’re a gnome, you should know better than most.” Jorn nervously said, his fingers uneasily twitching and fidgeting at his sleeves.</p><p></p><p>The cloaked gnome took several slow, lingering steps towards the man, the quiet hissing sound of a sword being drawn caused his eyes to open wide as a flash of steel drew a spurt of crimson across his throat. With a stumble, Jorn fell to the ground, clutching his neck which was bleeding profusely. </p><p></p><p>Leaning in low, Faer whispered into the fallen man’s ear. “It’s just business.” Whatever life left within Jorn’s vein’s went icy, never in his life had he ever heard anything so cold, so full of malice and spite. He never felt anything so cold as the gnome dragging him by the foot to the edge of the pier and carefully kicking him into the murky water. He never felt anything again as a sword blade stabbed and slashed into the water, ending whatever life he had left in him.</p><p></p><p>Walking away from his grisly murder, Faer muttered to himself. “I’m not done yet…” That night, every single one of the Cloak's former companions was slain.</p><p></p><p>Two weeks later, on the morning of Sol, Faer found himself sitting on the docks of the Tantamar Ferry, holding a recruitment letter firmly in his hand.</p><p></p><p>[/sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="wikkawikkawa, post: 2912329, member: 17620"] Here's my submission: Faer "the Cloak" Ennenn Stats (I'd prefer that only the DM see this) [sblock]Name: Faer “the Cloak” Ennenn [I]“Who says a Gnome can’t put up a fight? Just remember, my sword arm is level with your crotch.”[/I] Class: Fighter 4 Race: Gnome Hit Dice 4d10+12 (44) Initiative: +3 Speed: 20 ft. Armor Class: 18 (10 Base + 4 Armor + 3 Dexterity + 2 Shield +1 Dodge) Base Attack Bonus: +4 Grapple: +1 Attacks: Swordcatcher +7 (1d4+4/19-20/x2/slashing) or Light Crossbow (1d6/19-20/x2/80 ft.) Full Attack: Swordcatcher +7 (1d4+4/19-20/x2/slashing) or Light Crossbow (1d6/19-20/x2/80 ft.) Face/Reach: 5x5/5 ft. Special Qualities: Gnome Traits (Exceptions: Proficiency with Hooked Hammer switched with Swordcatcher) Special Attacks: Saves: Fortitude +7, Reflex +4, Will +1 Abilities: Strength 13, Dexterity 16, Constitution 16, Intelligence 14, Wisdom 10, Charisma 11 Skills: Climb 7, Intimidate 7, Jump 7, Swim 7 Feats: Combat Expertise, Dodge, Improved Disarm, Weapon Focus: Gnome Swordcatcher, Weapon Specialization: Gnome Swordcatcher Languages: Common, Gnome, Dwarven, Goblin Alignment: Neutral Evil Deity: None Gender: Male Age: 56 Height: 3’5” Weight: 45 lbs. Inventory: 308 gold +1 Gnome Swordcatcher (1318) +1 Chain Shirt (1200) +1 Gnome Battle Cloak (1005) Light Crossbow (18) 20 Crossbow Bolts (2) Backpack (2) - Sunrod x5 (10) - Crowbar (2) - Silk Rope (50 ft; 10) - Grappling Hook (1) Belt Pouch x2 (2) - Cure Light Wounds Potion x3 (100) - Oil of Grease x3 (100) [/sblock] Appearance: [sblock]Appearance: Faer stands tall, his thin and wiry frame appearing deceptively fragile. Dull sky blue eyes shift about uncomfortably, highlighting his high cheekbones and his scruffy silver hair and the small beard at his chin. Down the left side of his face are two shoulder length locks of hair which curl up near the end. Wrapped around his shoulders and draped over his right arm is a cloak of midnight blue velvet, the inner weavings of it strung with miniscule wires which reinforce the lining. The hem of the article of clothing is heavy, as chain-woven links of metal run through it. Knee-high boots of soft brown leather (in which two Gnome-sized daggers are tucked into) cover the gnome’s feet and gray leggings cover the lower half of his body, while a shirt of finely woven chain and a dark blue tunic cover his upper. At his hip is buckled a heavy pronged sword, a rare weapon to be seen at all today.[/sblock] Background: Public Version [sblock]House Kundarak, the bearers of the Dragonmark of Warding, has small use for skilled warriors. One of their few warriors was Faer “Cloak” Ennenn, a Gnomish swordsman of small regard. Faer, as a young man, left his home in Reven to become a soldier, much to the shame of his parents. The stereotypical Gnome outlook on warfare is that it is a complete and utter waste of time. “Waste it may be, but it’s also necessary.” Faer said as he stormed out, his bags packed and slung over his shoulder. As he learned his craft of the blade from the dwarven warriors of Zalanberg, Faer grumbled to himself quietly and bitterly. “I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.” Eventually, Faer found himself in Trolanport, the capital of Zilargo. He searched for a job, mercenary work, bounty hunting, anything would suffice as long as it put some coin in his pocket. House Kundarak found a small use for him, guarding their various storehouses and safes. After several months working as a sword for them, Faer was assigned to a very special task. House Kundarak was sending a messenger, a man named Jorn along with an important message, to the city of Skairn, far away in the Lhazaar Principalities. Faer and several other adventurers were sent with him to keep him safe. After many weeks of traveling together, Faer became something of a friend to the men, boon companions of the road. Arriving at Skairn, Faer, Jorn and their companions made haste to a small building on the edge of the town. There, Jorn pulled a small scroll case from his bag and placed it onto the doorstep. “Well, friend, it’s been good.” Jorn spoke slowly to his small companion. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you.” “Why, what do you mean?” Faer asked. Jorn calmly reached into has bag once more and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Faer. “Read it.” Faer quietly opened the parchment, his eyes never breaking contact with the man that he called friend. [B]For the eyes of Mr. Faer Ennenn, Mr. Ennenn, House Kundarak thanks you for your invaluable service for us. However, we regret to inform you that due to unfortunate circumstances we are forced to terminate your employment to us. We apologize for any problems that this may cause. Signed, Destus Corrn, House Kundarak[/B] Throwing the letter down, Faer walked away from his former friend in a glowering rage. Once they thought he was out of earshot, Faer could hear his former companions laughing at him… Two weeks later, on the morning of Sol, Faer found himself sitting on the docks of the Tantamar Ferry, holding a recruitment letter firmly in his hand.[/sblock] DM VERSION! HIS EYES ONLY! [sblock]House Kundarak, the bearers of the Dragonmark of Warding, has small use for skilled warriors. One of their few warriors was Faer “Cloak” Ennenn, a Gnomish swordsman of small regard. Faer, as a young man, left his home in Reven to become a soldier, much to the shame of his parents. The stereotypical Gnome outlook on warfare is that it is a complete and utter waste of time. “Waste it may be, but it’s also necessary.” Faer said as he stormed out, his bags packed and slung over his shoulder. As he learned his craft of the blade from the dwarven warriors of Zalanberg, Faer grumbled to himself quietly and bitterly. “I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.” Eventually, Faer found himself in Trolanport, the capital of Zilargo. He searched for a job, mercenary work, bounty hunting, anything would suffice as long as it put some coin in his pocket. House Kundarak found a small use for him, guarding their various storehouses and safes. After several months working as a sword for them, Faer was assigned to a very special task. House Kundarak was sending a messenger, a man named Jorn along with an important message, to the city of Skairn, far away in the Lhazaar Principalities. Faer and several other adventurers were sent with him to keep him safe. After many weeks of traveling together, Faer became something of a friend to the men, boon companions of the road. Arriving at Skairn, Faer, Jorn and their companions made haste to a small building on the edge of the town. There, Jorn pulled a small scroll case from his bag and placed it onto the doorstep. “Well, friend, it’s been good.” Jorn spoke slowly to his small companion. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you.” “Why, what do you mean?” Faer asked. Jorn calmly reached into has bag once more and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Faer. “Read it.” Faer quietly opened the parchment, his eyes never breaking contact with the man that he called friend. [B] For the eyes of Mr. Faer Ennenn, Mr. Ennenn, House Kundarak thanks you for your invaluable service for us. However, we regret to inform you that due to unfortunate circumstances we are forced to terminate your employment to us. We apologize for any problems that this may cause. Signed, Destus Corrn, House Kundarak[/B] Throwing the letter down, Faer walked away from his former friend in a glowering rage. Once they thought he was out of earshot, Faer could hear his former companions laughing at him… The next day, Jorn found himself on the pier of Skairn waiting for his ferry. The night was eerily silent, the only sound was the echoing footsteps of a small figure walking down the street. Jorn turned to see a cloaked figure, his hood up, but Jorn could tell who it was. That sword at his waste, the silver lock of hair running down from his head, that dark blue cloak, it gave it all away. “Faer, what’re you doing here? I’m sorry about you being fired, but you have to understand it wasn’t my fault. It’s just business, I suppose. You’re a gnome, you should know better than most.” Jorn nervously said, his fingers uneasily twitching and fidgeting at his sleeves. The cloaked gnome took several slow, lingering steps towards the man, the quiet hissing sound of a sword being drawn caused his eyes to open wide as a flash of steel drew a spurt of crimson across his throat. With a stumble, Jorn fell to the ground, clutching his neck which was bleeding profusely. Leaning in low, Faer whispered into the fallen man’s ear. “It’s just business.” Whatever life left within Jorn’s vein’s went icy, never in his life had he ever heard anything so cold, so full of malice and spite. He never felt anything so cold as the gnome dragging him by the foot to the edge of the pier and carefully kicking him into the murky water. He never felt anything again as a sword blade stabbed and slashed into the water, ending whatever life he had left in him. Walking away from his grisly murder, Faer muttered to himself. “I’m not done yet…” That night, every single one of the Cloak's former companions was slain. Two weeks later, on the morning of Sol, Faer found himself sitting on the docks of the Tantamar Ferry, holding a recruitment letter firmly in his hand. [/sblock] [/QUOTE]
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