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Message: <blockquote data-quote="okuth0r" data-source="post: 53076" data-attributes="member: 1615">Rock ThatcherBorderlander (Saldean) Woodsman 1; hp 12; Init +3 (+3 Dex); Defense 16 (+3 Class, +3 Dex); Spd 30 ft.; Atk +3 melee (1d8+2/19-20/x2, Longsword), +3/4 melee/ranged (1d4+2/19-20/x2, dagger), +4 ranged (1d8/20/x3, Longbow); SQ none; SV Fort +4, Ref +3, Will 0; SZ M; Rep 0; Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 10 Skills: Animal Empathy +1 (1 rank), Climb +5 (3 ranks), Handle Animal +1 (1 rank), Hide +9 (4 ranks), Intimidate +2 (2 rank), Intuit Direction +3 (3 rank), Knowledge (Nature) +2 (1 rank), Listen +1 (1 rank), Move Silently +9 (4 ranks, Free), Search +4 (3 ranks), Speak Language (1 rank, with bonus 1 for Trolloc), Spot +3 (3 ranks), Swim +3 (1 rank), Use Rope +4 (1 rank), Wilderness Lore +3 (3 ranks)Languages: Common (Borderlander), Trolloc Feats: Stealthy, Shadowspawn Hunter, Track (free)Possessions: Heavy horse, bit and bridle, military saddle, saddlebags, Travelers outfit, studded leather armor, Longsword, dagger, Longbow, 40 Arrows, backpack, winter blanket, flint and steel, waterskin, whetstone, Money: 1 mk, 4 sp, 8 cp An average 5,7" Black Hair, ever watchfull blue eyes, allways well used but sturdy clothes/equipment.  Normally quiet, years of trying not to be noticed is hard to break.An Excerpt form Rock,s Journal, written to help his learning of how to write.Rock, the only thing my mother could name me.  She never was a bright one, and some times she would talk to people that weren’t there, or stare out the window, for hours on end.  I learned to take care of myself early on; even rolling with the hits my father gave me.  My dad was a thatcher, a poor one, but the other poor here could afford him, and he kept a house over our heads, that is a small rickety house he could afford after his liquor, somewhere people wouldn’t see him hitting ma and me.  Couldn’t fight back then, too little, being only 12, only be quieter than a mouse so not to be seen.  Eventually i got to big to hide, so I would leave town and run in the woods.  I miss those days, running in the woods, being free, coming home after dark when dad was already passed out.  Did that for a few years till hit by the dark one's luck.  I came back one day, must of been around 15-16 back then and the house was empty.  Later, after talking to friends and the watch i found out what happoned. Dad had picked a fight with the wrong bloke at the bar, ended up dead.  So they found ma, talking to the wall and hauled her off to the loony bin.  Naturally the housed had been picked clean after that, anything not guarded is fair pickings after all.  I tried to see ma but they wouldn’t let me in, a nice lady with a funny face told me she had a episode and that they had to put her down.  After she told me what it ment fighting back tears i realized why her face looked so funny.  It didnt show any signs of age, then she told me i would be strong, and that I was strong with old blood, and sent me off. So I took everything else at home, some rags, a knife i had hidden, and left town to hide in the woods, must a been a year I lived that way, hunting, learning the spear, till one night.  Id been roaming around, finding the walk and the new sights exciting and was far from my hut when I woke up, tied. Apparently a band of trolloc's had been moving through and found in me a meal, thats when I started screamimg, never been so afraid and panicked in my life.  That’s when some Sheinerein soldiers charged in, shadows of the night come alive.  With suprise they rushed in, slaying the trollocs and saveing me.  They had been tracking the scum for days, starting after the trollocs had nearly made it through shienar undetected. How they got to Scaldea is beyond me (I only learned later that is the country I lived in. I still dont know the name of the town I was born in, yet I don’t plan on going back.).  They took me with them, impressed id been alone in the woods so long.  They taught me to fight, to hunt, and to track the trollocs.  I spent 2 years with them, in return for my life.  Two years of learning to write, to speak and write trolloc, lore of the woods I love so much. But I found myself restless, hunting the trollocs was my life, yet I could smell a violence that repulsed me from Shienar.  All the killing and continual fighting left a bad smell. So with the blessings of my comrads, and gifts of usefull items, I began to wander.</blockquote>

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