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<blockquote data-quote="Ringmereth" data-source="post: 2827996" data-attributes="member: 33915"><p><strong>Taviss Jarga</strong></p><p></p><p>Taviss Jarga</p><p>Class: Ranger 2</p><p>Race: Human</p><p>Hit Dice: 2d8+4, 17 HP</p><p>Initiative: +3</p><p>Speed: 30 ft.</p><p>Armor Class: 17 (10 +3 dex +3 armor +1 shield)</p><p>Base Attack Bonus: +2</p><p>Grapple: +4</p><p>Attacks: Longbow +6 (1d8, x3, 100 ft), Battleaxe +4 (1d8+2, x3), Quarterstaff +4 (1d6+2, x2), Dagger +4 melee or +5 thrown (1d4+2, 19-20 x2, 10 ft)</p><p>Full Attack: Longbow +6 or +4/+4 (1d8, x3, 100 ft), Battleaxe +4 (1d8+2, x3), Quarterstaff +4 (1d6+2, x2), Dagger +4 melee or +5 thrown (1d4+2, 19-20 x2, 10 ft)</p><p>Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft</p><p>Special Qualities: Favored Enemy (humans), Track, Wild Empathy, +2 resistance bonus on saves vs. disease</p><p>Special Attacks: n/a</p><p>Saves: Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1</p><p>Abilities: Strength 14, Dexterity 16, Constitution 14, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 12, Charisma 8</p><p>Skills: Climb +4* [2], Handle Animal +3 [4], Heal +8 [5], Hide +8* [5], Move Silently +8* [5], Search +3 [3], Spot +6 [5], Survival +8 [5] (* = -1 in studded leather or with buckler, -2 with both)</p><p>Feats: Weapon Focus (longbow), Point Blank Shot, Self-Sufficent, Action Boost, Rapid Shot</p><p>Languages: Common</p><p>Alignment: Neutral</p><p>Deity: None</p><p>Gender: Male</p><p>Age: 26</p><p>Height: 5' 8"</p><p>Weight: 148 lbs</p><p></p><p><strong>Inventory</strong>:</p><p>Traveler's outfit</p><p>Quarterstaff</p><p>Longbow</p><p>57 arrows</p><p>Battleaxe </p><p>Dagger</p><p>Studded leather armor </p><p>Buckler </p><p>Bedroll </p><p>Hemp rope</p><p>Backpack </p><p>Gallon of ale </p><p>Trail rations x4 </p><p>Targath ring </p><p>Unidentified ring</p><p>Torch x3</p><p>Flint and steel</p><p>Sack</p><p>8 gp, 5 sp, 7 cp</p><p></p><p><strong>Appearance</strong>: Taviss Jarga's tough body is well-scarred from his military days with minor wounds, but he has little of the discipline he was once taught. His black hair and beard are both crudly trimmed, and his hands are dirty. He wears worn leather boots, a simple brown tunic and pants under leather armor studded with steel, and a belt; his dagger and axe are strapped to it, along with a small bag of his coin. A dull ring bearing a worn-down crest of Breland adorns his left hand, a token of his scouting days. His bow and quiver are strapped to his back over a knapsack filled with his possessions and a lightweight shield.</p><p></p><p><strong>Personality</strong>: While unafraid to involve himself in the affairs of others, Taviss has seen too many friends die over years of war, and pushes away, physically or verbally, anyone who treats him as anything more than an ally. His language is blunt and unrefined, though he rarely talks more than he must. While he is no diplomat, he prefers to avoid violent confrontation with other humans, usually by keeping out of their way or staying out of their sight.</p><p></p><p><strong>Biography</strong>: Taviss Jarga was born in rural eastern Breland to peasant farmers, and his family and village instilled in him a pride in his nation's traditions. He grew up an idealist, confident in the agricultural heritage of his country would be defended by Boranel's strong armies as war flared across Khorvaire. His hope did not wane when the wiry young man was conscripted into the military--he would have volunteered anyway.</p><p></p><p>"We cannot stand by and allow Cyran aggression to rob defenseless Brelanders of their land, their homes, their lives!" his officer shouted at the hastily trained archery unit. Taviss, not experienced enough to take orders with a grain of salt, cheered and waved goodbye as his company squeezed with sparse personal goods onto lightning rail coaches. He had never seen any villages razed or villagers turned refuge near the Cyran border, but nor had he ever come within fifty miles of that line.</p><p></p><p>A two days' march from the end of the rail line, Jarga's group and eight other units met a mixed force of cavalry skirmishers and shining warforged swordsmen. As his lieutenant urged them into easy range of the living constructs, Taviss' ideals began to crumble with the first of his nation's casualties in the engagement. He aimed and fired, he sent arrows flying into the flesh of the hostile horsemen, but when the Cyrans sent them running for reinforcements, his faith in Breland wavered.</p><p></p><p>While a wise leader might encourage defeated troops with stirring speeches, displays of strength, or effective counterassualts, Tarviss' instead let his unit sit in the mud for a week while rallying forces to strike back with, letting the discouraged soldiers mull over their new experiences. Jarga's conflicting emotions of patriotism and disgust were superceded by simple fear: I don't want to go back out there.</p><p></p><p>Back 'out there' was where he was bound, first to retailate against Cyre. It took only weeks for a truce to be reached and the two nations to ally against Karrnath, and Taviss found himself marching in ranks behind warforged; warforged who had sliced open the bodies of men who fit into his earliest memories, and now were only memories and hastily burried corpses. Many marches, battles, and dead friends later, the agile archer was tranfered by his commander to a scout unit. Taviss witnessed fewer battles spying under cover of darkness, but every time he returned to camp with information he remembered that his alliance was one with men who had killed his friends. That his country's war had taken lives for no purpose.</p><p></p><p>The last word in needless deaths was spoken, of course, on the Day of Mourning, around the time that Taviss' weary partners crossed the Cyre-Breland border with reports on Karrnathi advances. As the towering gray clouds swept over the landscape behind him, the ranger stopped and watched a nation pass away, and as the wall of mist came to rest at the border, he knew that whatever had befallen Cyre was at the hands of other men. He quickly slipped away from his own men, and headed south, running parallel to the border.</p><p></p><p>Two days into his journey, the thoroughly traumatized scout ran across a Cyran family and a well-armed warrior who called himself a monster hunter. "Better to slay monsters than men,"</p><p>Taviss declared. He lent his bow and axe to their defense as they travelled to Q'barra, but he refused to stay among the Cyran enclaves in the jungles, angered by the reminder of the</p><p>foolish wars of fellow men. He made his way with Ari the hexblade to a small town called Seawall, and promptly isolated himself from the goings-on of the town, prefering to lose himself in the jungle, hunt for food, and drink too much.</p><p></p><p>The ranger's antisocial behavior was only mitigated by the inspiration Ari's diligent defense of the town provided. While tired of killing men, he was without moral objection to fighting murderous lizardmen, and began to patrol the outer fringes of Seawall. He consulted no one in town, asking for nothing in return for his vigilance, and similarily ignored all attempts to interefere with his watch. As months passed, they began to appreciate Jarga's protection, even as he was regarded suspiciously. When reports of delayed shipping reached his ears, his responsibility to Seawall led him into town to join Ari and other volunteers in investigating.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ringmereth, post: 2827996, member: 33915"] [b]Taviss Jarga[/b] Taviss Jarga Class: Ranger 2 Race: Human Hit Dice: 2d8+4, 17 HP Initiative: +3 Speed: 30 ft. Armor Class: 17 (10 +3 dex +3 armor +1 shield) Base Attack Bonus: +2 Grapple: +4 Attacks: Longbow +6 (1d8, x3, 100 ft), Battleaxe +4 (1d8+2, x3), Quarterstaff +4 (1d6+2, x2), Dagger +4 melee or +5 thrown (1d4+2, 19-20 x2, 10 ft) Full Attack: Longbow +6 or +4/+4 (1d8, x3, 100 ft), Battleaxe +4 (1d8+2, x3), Quarterstaff +4 (1d6+2, x2), Dagger +4 melee or +5 thrown (1d4+2, 19-20 x2, 10 ft) Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft Special Qualities: Favored Enemy (humans), Track, Wild Empathy, +2 resistance bonus on saves vs. disease Special Attacks: n/a Saves: Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 Abilities: Strength 14, Dexterity 16, Constitution 14, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 12, Charisma 8 Skills: Climb +4* [2], Handle Animal +3 [4], Heal +8 [5], Hide +8* [5], Move Silently +8* [5], Search +3 [3], Spot +6 [5], Survival +8 [5] (* = -1 in studded leather or with buckler, -2 with both) Feats: Weapon Focus (longbow), Point Blank Shot, Self-Sufficent, Action Boost, Rapid Shot Languages: Common Alignment: Neutral Deity: None Gender: Male Age: 26 Height: 5' 8" Weight: 148 lbs [B]Inventory[/B]: Traveler's outfit Quarterstaff Longbow 57 arrows Battleaxe Dagger Studded leather armor Buckler Bedroll Hemp rope Backpack Gallon of ale Trail rations x4 Targath ring Unidentified ring Torch x3 Flint and steel Sack 8 gp, 5 sp, 7 cp [B]Appearance[/B]: Taviss Jarga's tough body is well-scarred from his military days with minor wounds, but he has little of the discipline he was once taught. His black hair and beard are both crudly trimmed, and his hands are dirty. He wears worn leather boots, a simple brown tunic and pants under leather armor studded with steel, and a belt; his dagger and axe are strapped to it, along with a small bag of his coin. A dull ring bearing a worn-down crest of Breland adorns his left hand, a token of his scouting days. His bow and quiver are strapped to his back over a knapsack filled with his possessions and a lightweight shield. [B]Personality[/B]: While unafraid to involve himself in the affairs of others, Taviss has seen too many friends die over years of war, and pushes away, physically or verbally, anyone who treats him as anything more than an ally. His language is blunt and unrefined, though he rarely talks more than he must. While he is no diplomat, he prefers to avoid violent confrontation with other humans, usually by keeping out of their way or staying out of their sight. [B]Biography[/B]: Taviss Jarga was born in rural eastern Breland to peasant farmers, and his family and village instilled in him a pride in his nation's traditions. He grew up an idealist, confident in the agricultural heritage of his country would be defended by Boranel's strong armies as war flared across Khorvaire. His hope did not wane when the wiry young man was conscripted into the military--he would have volunteered anyway. "We cannot stand by and allow Cyran aggression to rob defenseless Brelanders of their land, their homes, their lives!" his officer shouted at the hastily trained archery unit. Taviss, not experienced enough to take orders with a grain of salt, cheered and waved goodbye as his company squeezed with sparse personal goods onto lightning rail coaches. He had never seen any villages razed or villagers turned refuge near the Cyran border, but nor had he ever come within fifty miles of that line. A two days' march from the end of the rail line, Jarga's group and eight other units met a mixed force of cavalry skirmishers and shining warforged swordsmen. As his lieutenant urged them into easy range of the living constructs, Taviss' ideals began to crumble with the first of his nation's casualties in the engagement. He aimed and fired, he sent arrows flying into the flesh of the hostile horsemen, but when the Cyrans sent them running for reinforcements, his faith in Breland wavered. While a wise leader might encourage defeated troops with stirring speeches, displays of strength, or effective counterassualts, Tarviss' instead let his unit sit in the mud for a week while rallying forces to strike back with, letting the discouraged soldiers mull over their new experiences. Jarga's conflicting emotions of patriotism and disgust were superceded by simple fear: I don't want to go back out there. Back 'out there' was where he was bound, first to retailate against Cyre. It took only weeks for a truce to be reached and the two nations to ally against Karrnath, and Taviss found himself marching in ranks behind warforged; warforged who had sliced open the bodies of men who fit into his earliest memories, and now were only memories and hastily burried corpses. Many marches, battles, and dead friends later, the agile archer was tranfered by his commander to a scout unit. Taviss witnessed fewer battles spying under cover of darkness, but every time he returned to camp with information he remembered that his alliance was one with men who had killed his friends. That his country's war had taken lives for no purpose. The last word in needless deaths was spoken, of course, on the Day of Mourning, around the time that Taviss' weary partners crossed the Cyre-Breland border with reports on Karrnathi advances. As the towering gray clouds swept over the landscape behind him, the ranger stopped and watched a nation pass away, and as the wall of mist came to rest at the border, he knew that whatever had befallen Cyre was at the hands of other men. He quickly slipped away from his own men, and headed south, running parallel to the border. Two days into his journey, the thoroughly traumatized scout ran across a Cyran family and a well-armed warrior who called himself a monster hunter. "Better to slay monsters than men," Taviss declared. He lent his bow and axe to their defense as they travelled to Q'barra, but he refused to stay among the Cyran enclaves in the jungles, angered by the reminder of the foolish wars of fellow men. He made his way with Ari the hexblade to a small town called Seawall, and promptly isolated himself from the goings-on of the town, prefering to lose himself in the jungle, hunt for food, and drink too much. The ranger's antisocial behavior was only mitigated by the inspiration Ari's diligent defense of the town provided. While tired of killing men, he was without moral objection to fighting murderous lizardmen, and began to patrol the outer fringes of Seawall. He consulted no one in town, asking for nothing in return for his vigilance, and similarily ignored all attempts to interefere with his watch. As months passed, they began to appreciate Jarga's protection, even as he was regarded suspiciously. When reports of delayed shipping reached his ears, his responsibility to Seawall led him into town to join Ari and other volunteers in investigating. [/QUOTE]
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