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<blockquote data-quote="SelcSilverhand" data-source="post: 5743954" data-attributes="member: 30016"><p>I slapped together two guys. They're not all done but the backgrounds and basic stuff is there. Take a look at the half-daelkyr fighter and tell me what you think. If you don't like it I'll work up that dwarf monk. Not sure which I like better yet. Kinda waiting to see what we need to fill out.</p><p></p><p>Rogue, Evret</p><p>[SBLOCK]</p><p>[code]</p><p>Character Name: Evret </p><p>Class: Rogue</p><p>Race: Human</p><p>Size: M</p><p>Gender: M </p><p>Alignment: NG</p><p>Deity: </p><p></p><p>Str: 16 +3 (05p.) Level: 1 </p><p>Dex: 14 +2 (05p.) BAB: +0 HP: 10 (1d8+2)</p><p>Con: 14 +2 (05p.) CMB: +3 </p><p>Int: 13 +0 (03p.) CMD: +14 </p><p>Wis: 10 +0 (00p.) Speed: 30' </p><p>Cha: 12 +0 (02p.) Init: +2 </p><p></p><p>Stat Increases by Level</p><p>4th - </p><p>8th - </p><p>12th - </p><p>16th - </p><p></p><p> Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total</p><p>Armor: 10 +3 +0 +2 +0 +0 +0 15</p><p>Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 13</p><p></p><p> Base Mod Misc Total</p><p>Fort: 0 +2 +0 +2</p><p>Ref: 2 +2 +0 +4</p><p>Will: 0 +0 +0 +0 </p><p></p><p></p><p>Weapon Attack Damage Critical</p><p>Sap +3 1d6+3 20x2</p><p> Sneak Attack 1d6+1d6 (Sap Adept Feat)</p><p>Sling +2 1d4+3 20x2</p><p></p><p>Languages: </p><p>Common, </p><p></p><p></p><p>Race Abilities: </p><p>Race : Ability</p><p>Human : +2 to (Str) Ability</p><p>Human : +1 skill point per level</p><p></p><p>Class Abilities: </p><p>Rogue : Sneak Attack : 1d6 vs flat footed opponents</p><p>Rogue : Trapfinding : 1/2 Level to perception and disable device for traps</p><p></p><p>Feats: </p><p>Feat - Location - Description</p><p>Human 1 - Combat Expertise : -1 to attack rolls to add +1 dodge to AC</p><p>Level 1 - Sap Adept (UC book) : Additional 1d6 to sneak attack damage when using a sap. SA damage is non-lethal</p><p></p><p>Future Feats</p><p>Rogue 2nd - Combat Talent - Improved Feint</p><p>Level 3 - Weapon Focus (Sap)</p><p>Level 5 - Sap Master - Sap Sneak Attack does 6d6</p><p>Level 7 - </p><p>Level 9 - </p><p>Level 11 - </p><p>Level 13 - </p><p>Level 15 - </p><p>Level 17 - </p><p>Level 19 - </p><p></p><p></p><p>Skill Points: 10 </p><p>Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total</p><p>Acrobatics 1 +2 +3 +6</p><p>Appraise 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Bluff 1 +1 +3 +5</p><p>Climb 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Craft 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Diplomacy 1 +1 +3 +5</p><p>Disable Device 1 +2 +3 +6</p><p>Disguise 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Escape Artist 1 +2 +3 +6</p><p>Fly 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Handle Animal 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Heal 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Intimidate 1 +1 +3 +5</p><p>Knowledge (arcana) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (dungeoneering) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (engineering) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (geography) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (history) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (local) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (nature) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (nobility) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (planes) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (religion) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Linguistics 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Perception 1 +0 +3 +4</p><p>Perform(Dance) 1 +1 +3 +5</p><p>Profession 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Ride 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Sense Motive 1 +0 +3 +4</p><p>Sleight of Hand 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Spellcraft 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Stealth 1 +2 +3 +6</p><p>Survival 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Swim 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Use Magic Device 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p></p><p></p><p>Equipment: Cost Weight</p><p>Bedroll 1sp 1.25lb</p><p>Silk Rope 10gp 5lb</p><p>Sunrod x3 6gp 3lb</p><p>Black Explorers Outfit </p><p>Masterwork Studded Leather 175gp</p><p>Sap 1gp</p><p>Sling</p><p></p><p>Total Weight:00.0lb Money: 00gp 0sp 0cp</p><p></p><p> Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push</p><p>Max Weight: 00.00 00-00 00-00 000 000</p><p></p><p>Age: 35</p><p>Height: 5'6"</p><p>Weight: 150lb</p><p>Eyes: Brown</p><p>Hair: Brown</p><p>Skin: White, Tanned</p><p>[/CODE]</p><p></p><p>Description</p><p>The man standing still before you looks wholly unremarkable. His plain face and tosseled hair looks like it could belong to any commoner, farmer, or merchantman. When he moves however his entire deamoner changes. His movement can only be described as a prowl. Grace belies rippling strength beneath his sun and weather tanned skin. Once he might have dominated any encounter but ages unrelenting flow has worn on him. One day a younger, stronger man will bring him down. But not today.</p><p></p><p>Background</p><p>Evret was born 35 years ago in the midst of a bloody conflict. A son of Cyre, jewel of Galifers Crown, and home to the greatest and most advanced people of the known world. The war had been going on long before he was born and looked like it would continue long after his childrens children were born. Cyre lay at the center of the continent and as such it was constantly preyed upon from all sides. It should have been ripped apart like a fawn by a pack of wolves but the proud, strong people stood their ground against predations on all sides. They lost ground here and there, but they gained it back with blood and steel and grit. Evret was born a farmers son. He helped his family raise horses and work leather into shields, armor, saddles, and tack. The call came each year for the able bodied to come and fight for their country, their lives, and their freedom. When he was old enough he volunteered proudly. His father served before him, but lost a leg to the zealots of Thrane. His father before him was slain by an Aundairian raiding party. Evret knew he had an honored line to live up to and he would do his best.</p><p></p><p>His speed, strength, and agility made him an invaluable scout and spy for his people. He tracked patrols, supply lines, and army movements on every front. Death was a constant companion, though never his enemy. He bloodied his hands time and time again. A black knife in the dark. A bottle of poison in the ale. A signal to begin an attack. He did it all for his way of life. </p><p></p><p>That was all taken from him on what was to be known as the Day of Mourning. Some cataclysm, some kind of attack, some divine judgement, he never knew for sure what it was. He was near the border when the earth threw him to the ground and all around him the world shook. From the north east came a rolling tide of horror. A dead grey mist blown outward by a foul wind and carrying with it the damned cries of his countrymen. Scared witless he turned tail and fled. He ran for hours. Sometimes he saw people from other lands running as well. None of them paid him any mind. No one wanted any more killing that day.</p><p></p><p>For him, that was the last day of his life. </p><p></p><p>He fled over the border into Breland. There he waited with the other refugees, dejected and broken hearted at the thought of all he had lost. In the depths of his despair he saw a glint of hope. The Treaty of Thronehold was signed. The Last War was ended. It was the last war anyone would ever need to fight. He knew then that he would not bloody his hands again for war. However he made a second oath, along with every other man, woman, and child of Lost Cyre. He would find those responsible for the devastation of his home and kin. Then he would have blood one last time.</p><p>[/SBLOCK]</p><p></p><p>Fighter, Edgar</p><p>[SBLOCK]</p><p>[code]</p><p>Character Name: Edgar </p><p>Class: Fighter</p><p>Race: Half-Daelkyr</p><p>Size: M</p><p>Gender: M </p><p>Alignment: CN </p><p>Deity: </p><p></p><p>Str: 16 +3 (05p.) Level: 1 </p><p>Dex: 15 +2 (07p.) BAB: +1 HP: 12 (19) (1d10+2) (+5 Temporary, +2 Feat)</p><p>Con: 14 +2 (05p.) CMB: +4 </p><p>Int: 10 +0 (00p.) CMD: +16 </p><p>Wis: 13 +1 (03p.) Speed: 30' </p><p>Cha: 10 +0 (00p.) Init: +2 </p><p></p><p>Stat Increases by Level</p><p>4th - </p><p>8th - </p><p>12th - </p><p>16th - </p><p></p><p> Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total</p><p>Armor: 10 +4 +0 +2 +0 +0 +0 16</p><p>Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 14</p><p></p><p> Base Mod Misc Total</p><p>Fort: 2 +2 +1 +5</p><p>Ref: 0 +2 +0 +2</p><p>Will: 0 +1 +0 +1 </p><p></p><p></p><p>Weapon Attack Damage Critical</p><p>Two-Bladed Sword +2/+2 1d8+3/1d8+1 19-20x2</p><p>Shortbow +3 1d6+0 20x3</p><p></p><p>Languages: </p><p>Common </p><p></p><p></p><p>Race Abilities: </p><p>Race : Ability</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Ability Bonus? (Going with +2 to str for now for human heritage)</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Abberation Type</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Darkvision 60'</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Unbalanced Mind - Attempting to read a Half-Daelkyrs mind requires a DC11 will save or be dazed for 1 round.</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Symbiont Mastery - +4 to will saves for personality conflicts with a symbiont. +2 hp per symbiont attached.</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Symbiont Dependancy - Lose 1 con/day if not in contact with symbiont until a new one is grown in 2d4 days</p><p>Half-Daelkyr : Symbiont - Breed Leech - Provides 5 temporary hit points that are refreshed each day and +1 fortitude saves. Ego Score 4</p><p></p><p>Class Abilities: </p><p>Fighter : </p><p></p><p>Feats: </p><p>Feat - Location - Description</p><p>Level 1 - Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Two Bladed Sword)</p><p>Class 1 - Two Weapon Fighting</p><p></p><p>Future Feats</p><p>Class 2 - Double Slice</p><p>Level 3 - Dodge</p><p>Class 4 - Mobility</p><p>Level 5 - Spring Attack</p><p>Class 6 - Vital Strike</p><p>Level 7 - Fleet</p><p>Class 8 - </p><p>Level 9 - </p><p>Class 10 - </p><p>Level 11 - </p><p>Class 12 - </p><p>Level 13 - </p><p>Class 14 - </p><p>Level 15 - </p><p>Class 16 - </p><p>Level 17 - </p><p>Class 18 - </p><p>Level 19 - </p><p>Class 20 - </p><p></p><p></p><p>Skill Points: 02 </p><p>Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total</p><p>Acrobatics 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Appraise 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Bluff 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Climb 1 +3 +3 +7</p><p>Craft 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Diplomacy 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Disable Device 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Disguise 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Escape Artist 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Fly 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Handle Animal 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Heal 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Intimidate 1 +0 +3 +4</p><p>Knowledge (arcana) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (dungeoneering) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (engineering) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (geography) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (history) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (local) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (nature) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (nobility) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (planes) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Knowledge (religion) 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Linguistics 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Perception 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Perform 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Profession 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Ride 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Sense Motive 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Sleight of Hand 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Spellcraft 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Stealth 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Survival 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Swim 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p>Use Magic Device 0 +0 +0 +0</p><p></p><p></p><p>Equipment: Cost Weight</p><p>Bedroll 1sp 1.25lb</p><p>Silk Rope 10gp 5lb</p><p>Sunrod x3 6gp 3lb</p><p>Explorers Outfit</p><p>Two Bladed Sword 100gp</p><p>Chain Shirt 100gp</p><p> </p><p>Total Weight:00.0lb Money: 00gp 0sp 0cp</p><p></p><p> Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push</p><p>Max Weight: 00.00 00-00 00-00 000 000</p><p></p><p>Age: 25</p><p>Height: 6'</p><p>Weight: 190lb</p><p>Eyes: Blue</p><p>Hair: White</p><p>Skin: Brown</p><p>[/code]</p><p></p><p>Description</p><p>Something is not quite right about this man. His tall form hunches slightly at the shoulders. His limbs are overly long and limber. His fingers flex and bend just a little farther than normal. His eyes dart about as if checking every shadow for danger. Sometimes his lips move as if he talks to himself. When he moves, his hulking form lurches but somehow manages to avoid bumping into obstacles. Each flaw by themself might have gone unheeded but all together in one unfortunate person leads the mind to wonder what is wrong with him. He wears a heavy aundairian chain shirt over padding and a large leather skullcap with metal bands of karranthian make. His greaves look of elvish craft, possibly from valenar. Across his back he carries a long weapon with leather coverings for both ends. Its grip in the middle looks as if it were made for something with only three fingers but he still wields it with some skill.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Background</p><p>Edgar is an unfortunate man. He only ever wanted to serve his country. Cyre was his home, and his fathers home, and so on back through the generations. When his time came he signed up immediately and with eager anticipation. However his first combat patrol was routed leaving most of his companions dead. He gathered what supplies from the field that he could and he limped his way back to the nearest staging point. Once more he was sent out. Again his unit was decimated. Each time he would fight his way back to his own people, replacing whatever bits of armor or weapons that he had lost with what he could scavenge from the battlefield. He was considered bad luck, an ill omen. No one wanted him in their squad. He was left guarding supply trains or standing watch on depots. </p><p></p><p>On the Day of Mourning when the sky was rent assunder and the earth groaned in agony, he knew it would be his end. There was no where to run when all the world seemed to be turning itself inside out. He ran anyway, as fast and far as his legs could carry him. He was nearing the border to Breland when he tripped and went down in a foul smelling swamp. When he regained his senses and struggled to rise he found he was caught in the bog. Behind him rose the miles-high killing grey mist blown along by the dying cries of all life. He covered his head and hunkered low in the filthy swamp.</p><p></p><p>He doesn't recall anything after that. He only knew that when he stumbled his way out of the grey mist he wasn't alone. Something came with him. He could feel it stuck between his shoulder blades just out of reach. At night he dreamed of madness. Colossal sky worms burrowing through clouds of tin. Blood rain that falls upward from the living. Voices from everything he touched. His mad wanderings carried him away from the borders of the shattered country and into Breland. His body was warped and in his mind he felt another presence. An unwelcome one. He does his best to hide his conditions from his fellow refugees but one day he will be unable to hide his condition any longer. When that day comes where will he find succor at? What home will take in a monster like him? How many zealots will hunt him down and burn his taint from the land? Fear drives him forward now, the fear of discovery and the fear of the future. </p><p>[/SBLOCK]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="SelcSilverhand, post: 5743954, member: 30016"] I slapped together two guys. They're not all done but the backgrounds and basic stuff is there. Take a look at the half-daelkyr fighter and tell me what you think. If you don't like it I'll work up that dwarf monk. Not sure which I like better yet. Kinda waiting to see what we need to fill out. Rogue, Evret [SBLOCK] [code] Character Name: Evret Class: Rogue Race: Human Size: M Gender: M Alignment: NG Deity: Str: 16 +3 (05p.) Level: 1 Dex: 14 +2 (05p.) BAB: +0 HP: 10 (1d8+2) Con: 14 +2 (05p.) CMB: +3 Int: 13 +0 (03p.) CMD: +14 Wis: 10 +0 (00p.) Speed: 30' Cha: 12 +0 (02p.) Init: +2 Stat Increases by Level 4th - 8th - 12th - 16th - Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total Armor: 10 +3 +0 +2 +0 +0 +0 15 Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 13 Base Mod Misc Total Fort: 0 +2 +0 +2 Ref: 2 +2 +0 +4 Will: 0 +0 +0 +0 Weapon Attack Damage Critical Sap +3 1d6+3 20x2 Sneak Attack 1d6+1d6 (Sap Adept Feat) Sling +2 1d4+3 20x2 Languages: Common, Race Abilities: Race : Ability Human : +2 to (Str) Ability Human : +1 skill point per level Class Abilities: Rogue : Sneak Attack : 1d6 vs flat footed opponents Rogue : Trapfinding : 1/2 Level to perception and disable device for traps Feats: Feat - Location - Description Human 1 - Combat Expertise : -1 to attack rolls to add +1 dodge to AC Level 1 - Sap Adept (UC book) : Additional 1d6 to sneak attack damage when using a sap. SA damage is non-lethal Future Feats Rogue 2nd - Combat Talent - Improved Feint Level 3 - Weapon Focus (Sap) Level 5 - Sap Master - Sap Sneak Attack does 6d6 Level 7 - Level 9 - Level 11 - Level 13 - Level 15 - Level 17 - Level 19 - Skill Points: 10 Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total Acrobatics 1 +2 +3 +6 Appraise 0 +0 +0 +0 Bluff 1 +1 +3 +5 Climb 0 +0 +0 +0 Craft 0 +0 +0 +0 Diplomacy 1 +1 +3 +5 Disable Device 1 +2 +3 +6 Disguise 0 +0 +0 +0 Escape Artist 1 +2 +3 +6 Fly 0 +0 +0 +0 Handle Animal 0 +0 +0 +0 Heal 0 +0 +0 +0 Intimidate 1 +1 +3 +5 Knowledge (arcana) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (dungeoneering) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (engineering) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (geography) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (history) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (local) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (nature) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (nobility) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (planes) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (religion) 0 +0 +0 +0 Linguistics 0 +0 +0 +0 Perception 1 +0 +3 +4 Perform(Dance) 1 +1 +3 +5 Profession 0 +0 +0 +0 Ride 0 +0 +0 +0 Sense Motive 1 +0 +3 +4 Sleight of Hand 0 +0 +0 +0 Spellcraft 0 +0 +0 +0 Stealth 1 +2 +3 +6 Survival 0 +0 +0 +0 Swim 0 +0 +0 +0 Use Magic Device 0 +0 +0 +0 Equipment: Cost Weight Bedroll 1sp 1.25lb Silk Rope 10gp 5lb Sunrod x3 6gp 3lb Black Explorers Outfit Masterwork Studded Leather 175gp Sap 1gp Sling Total Weight:00.0lb Money: 00gp 0sp 0cp Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push Max Weight: 00.00 00-00 00-00 000 000 Age: 35 Height: 5'6" Weight: 150lb Eyes: Brown Hair: Brown Skin: White, Tanned [/CODE] Description The man standing still before you looks wholly unremarkable. His plain face and tosseled hair looks like it could belong to any commoner, farmer, or merchantman. When he moves however his entire deamoner changes. His movement can only be described as a prowl. Grace belies rippling strength beneath his sun and weather tanned skin. Once he might have dominated any encounter but ages unrelenting flow has worn on him. One day a younger, stronger man will bring him down. But not today. Background Evret was born 35 years ago in the midst of a bloody conflict. A son of Cyre, jewel of Galifers Crown, and home to the greatest and most advanced people of the known world. The war had been going on long before he was born and looked like it would continue long after his childrens children were born. Cyre lay at the center of the continent and as such it was constantly preyed upon from all sides. It should have been ripped apart like a fawn by a pack of wolves but the proud, strong people stood their ground against predations on all sides. They lost ground here and there, but they gained it back with blood and steel and grit. Evret was born a farmers son. He helped his family raise horses and work leather into shields, armor, saddles, and tack. The call came each year for the able bodied to come and fight for their country, their lives, and their freedom. When he was old enough he volunteered proudly. His father served before him, but lost a leg to the zealots of Thrane. His father before him was slain by an Aundairian raiding party. Evret knew he had an honored line to live up to and he would do his best. His speed, strength, and agility made him an invaluable scout and spy for his people. He tracked patrols, supply lines, and army movements on every front. Death was a constant companion, though never his enemy. He bloodied his hands time and time again. A black knife in the dark. A bottle of poison in the ale. A signal to begin an attack. He did it all for his way of life. That was all taken from him on what was to be known as the Day of Mourning. Some cataclysm, some kind of attack, some divine judgement, he never knew for sure what it was. He was near the border when the earth threw him to the ground and all around him the world shook. From the north east came a rolling tide of horror. A dead grey mist blown outward by a foul wind and carrying with it the damned cries of his countrymen. Scared witless he turned tail and fled. He ran for hours. Sometimes he saw people from other lands running as well. None of them paid him any mind. No one wanted any more killing that day. For him, that was the last day of his life. He fled over the border into Breland. There he waited with the other refugees, dejected and broken hearted at the thought of all he had lost. In the depths of his despair he saw a glint of hope. The Treaty of Thronehold was signed. The Last War was ended. It was the last war anyone would ever need to fight. He knew then that he would not bloody his hands again for war. However he made a second oath, along with every other man, woman, and child of Lost Cyre. He would find those responsible for the devastation of his home and kin. Then he would have blood one last time. [/SBLOCK] Fighter, Edgar [SBLOCK] [code] Character Name: Edgar Class: Fighter Race: Half-Daelkyr Size: M Gender: M Alignment: CN Deity: Str: 16 +3 (05p.) Level: 1 Dex: 15 +2 (07p.) BAB: +1 HP: 12 (19) (1d10+2) (+5 Temporary, +2 Feat) Con: 14 +2 (05p.) CMB: +4 Int: 10 +0 (00p.) CMD: +16 Wis: 13 +1 (03p.) Speed: 30' Cha: 10 +0 (00p.) Init: +2 Stat Increases by Level 4th - 8th - 12th - 16th - Base Armor Shld Dex Size Nat Misc Total Armor: 10 +4 +0 +2 +0 +0 +0 16 Touch: 12 Flatfooted: 14 Base Mod Misc Total Fort: 2 +2 +1 +5 Ref: 0 +2 +0 +2 Will: 0 +1 +0 +1 Weapon Attack Damage Critical Two-Bladed Sword +2/+2 1d8+3/1d8+1 19-20x2 Shortbow +3 1d6+0 20x3 Languages: Common Race Abilities: Race : Ability Half-Daelkyr : Ability Bonus? (Going with +2 to str for now for human heritage) Half-Daelkyr : Abberation Type Half-Daelkyr : Darkvision 60' Half-Daelkyr : Unbalanced Mind - Attempting to read a Half-Daelkyrs mind requires a DC11 will save or be dazed for 1 round. Half-Daelkyr : Symbiont Mastery - +4 to will saves for personality conflicts with a symbiont. +2 hp per symbiont attached. Half-Daelkyr : Symbiont Dependancy - Lose 1 con/day if not in contact with symbiont until a new one is grown in 2d4 days Half-Daelkyr : Symbiont - Breed Leech - Provides 5 temporary hit points that are refreshed each day and +1 fortitude saves. Ego Score 4 Class Abilities: Fighter : Feats: Feat - Location - Description Level 1 - Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Two Bladed Sword) Class 1 - Two Weapon Fighting Future Feats Class 2 - Double Slice Level 3 - Dodge Class 4 - Mobility Level 5 - Spring Attack Class 6 - Vital Strike Level 7 - Fleet Class 8 - Level 9 - Class 10 - Level 11 - Class 12 - Level 13 - Class 14 - Level 15 - Class 16 - Level 17 - Class 18 - Level 19 - Class 20 - Skill Points: 02 Skills Ranks Mod Misc Total Acrobatics 0 +0 +0 +0 Appraise 0 +0 +0 +0 Bluff 0 +0 +0 +0 Climb 1 +3 +3 +7 Craft 0 +0 +0 +0 Diplomacy 0 +0 +0 +0 Disable Device 0 +0 +0 +0 Disguise 0 +0 +0 +0 Escape Artist 0 +0 +0 +0 Fly 0 +0 +0 +0 Handle Animal 0 +0 +0 +0 Heal 0 +0 +0 +0 Intimidate 1 +0 +3 +4 Knowledge (arcana) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (dungeoneering) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (engineering) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (geography) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (history) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (local) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (nature) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (nobility) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (planes) 0 +0 +0 +0 Knowledge (religion) 0 +0 +0 +0 Linguistics 0 +0 +0 +0 Perception 0 +0 +0 +0 Perform 0 +0 +0 +0 Profession 0 +0 +0 +0 Ride 0 +0 +0 +0 Sense Motive 0 +0 +0 +0 Sleight of Hand 0 +0 +0 +0 Spellcraft 0 +0 +0 +0 Stealth 0 +0 +0 +0 Survival 0 +0 +0 +0 Swim 0 +0 +0 +0 Use Magic Device 0 +0 +0 +0 Equipment: Cost Weight Bedroll 1sp 1.25lb Silk Rope 10gp 5lb Sunrod x3 6gp 3lb Explorers Outfit Two Bladed Sword 100gp Chain Shirt 100gp Total Weight:00.0lb Money: 00gp 0sp 0cp Lgt Med Hvy Lift Push Max Weight: 00.00 00-00 00-00 000 000 Age: 25 Height: 6' Weight: 190lb Eyes: Blue Hair: White Skin: Brown [/code] Description Something is not quite right about this man. His tall form hunches slightly at the shoulders. His limbs are overly long and limber. His fingers flex and bend just a little farther than normal. His eyes dart about as if checking every shadow for danger. Sometimes his lips move as if he talks to himself. When he moves, his hulking form lurches but somehow manages to avoid bumping into obstacles. Each flaw by themself might have gone unheeded but all together in one unfortunate person leads the mind to wonder what is wrong with him. He wears a heavy aundairian chain shirt over padding and a large leather skullcap with metal bands of karranthian make. His greaves look of elvish craft, possibly from valenar. Across his back he carries a long weapon with leather coverings for both ends. Its grip in the middle looks as if it were made for something with only three fingers but he still wields it with some skill. Background Edgar is an unfortunate man. He only ever wanted to serve his country. Cyre was his home, and his fathers home, and so on back through the generations. When his time came he signed up immediately and with eager anticipation. However his first combat patrol was routed leaving most of his companions dead. He gathered what supplies from the field that he could and he limped his way back to the nearest staging point. Once more he was sent out. Again his unit was decimated. Each time he would fight his way back to his own people, replacing whatever bits of armor or weapons that he had lost with what he could scavenge from the battlefield. He was considered bad luck, an ill omen. No one wanted him in their squad. He was left guarding supply trains or standing watch on depots. On the Day of Mourning when the sky was rent assunder and the earth groaned in agony, he knew it would be his end. There was no where to run when all the world seemed to be turning itself inside out. He ran anyway, as fast and far as his legs could carry him. He was nearing the border to Breland when he tripped and went down in a foul smelling swamp. When he regained his senses and struggled to rise he found he was caught in the bog. Behind him rose the miles-high killing grey mist blown along by the dying cries of all life. He covered his head and hunkered low in the filthy swamp. He doesn't recall anything after that. He only knew that when he stumbled his way out of the grey mist he wasn't alone. Something came with him. He could feel it stuck between his shoulder blades just out of reach. At night he dreamed of madness. Colossal sky worms burrowing through clouds of tin. Blood rain that falls upward from the living. Voices from everything he touched. His mad wanderings carried him away from the borders of the shattered country and into Breland. His body was warped and in his mind he felt another presence. An unwelcome one. He does his best to hide his conditions from his fellow refugees but one day he will be unable to hide his condition any longer. When that day comes where will he find succor at? What home will take in a monster like him? How many zealots will hunt him down and burn his taint from the land? Fear drives him forward now, the fear of discovery and the fear of the future. [/SBLOCK] [/QUOTE]
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