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Character’s Name: Seraphania                Player: Nina

Class: Paladin               Level: 1                           Alignment: Neutral

Race Variant Human    Subrace: Dotherian      Age:mid 20s     Gender: Female

Height: 6' 2 1/2†         Weight: 178 Lbs              Size: Medium

Hair: Brown                Eyes: Grey               Skin: Fair Complexioned

Appearance: An intimidating  giant of a woman by most standards but well per-portioned. If not for her obvious female curves and attractive feminine features she would probably be considered masculine due to her size and incredible physique as well as the faint scars of battle she has on both face and body which she makes no attempt to hide, yet despite this she manages to maintain a Feminine beauty which is quite noticeable if one looks for it. When not armored for battle she will dress In common utilitarian clothing suitable for active labor or work. She does not own a dress and hasn't since she first left home.





Background: Soldier (Officer) Feature: Military Rank ( ? )

Personality Traits: I can stare down a Hell Hound without flinching, I face problems Head-on, a simple solution is the best path to success.

Ideals: Greater Good, Responsibility, Independence

Bonds: I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves

Flaws: My Hatred of my enemies (Evil) is Blind and Unreasoning




Seraphania (pronounced Seer - aff – a – nee – a) is the middle child out of ten, four brothers before her followed by two sisters a brother and at last another sister. Her Father was a blackmith and so was more well to do than most in the town they lived in and could afford such a big family due to the proximity of a Local Imperial Garrison supplying work. Her mother ran the household but brought in no outside Income.


Ser (pronounced Seer) as she was called mostly, was a difficult birth for her mother due to her size even as an infant, in fact the midwife had claimed that she would be a boy and was as startled as everyone else when a girl child was Born.


She had a good childhood until she was four or five and had begun attending the local school. She had great difficulty paying attention to the scholar who had been hired by the town council to educate the more privileged children of the town, of which she was the first of her family to attend, in the Imperial manner. This education consisted of reading and writing, arithmetic basics, history, and philosophy but it was an education Ser would never receive. While she could grasp the basics of numbers she could not learn to read. The letters by themselves she understood but when put together into words try as hard as she might she could not fathom the relations ship she couldn't see the words as words and so she could not learn writing nor reading and was thus labeled an idiot by the scholar and removed from the school.


But Ser was not an idiot in fact she had a great deal of common sense and easily learned physical tasks and skills. Her father while disappointed that his youngest (at that time) couldn't distinguish herself as a student, nonetheless took her on as an apprentice since her oldest brother had married and moved away that same year. Her size and strength made her the ideal apprentice and she enjoyed the physical work however she was only a mediocre smith. She was unable to do more than the basic smith work lacking the dexterity for the finer work needed to make intricate and detailed tools and weapons. Still her after could use her strength and so he kept her at work in the smity.


The years past and Ser grew up. By the time she was twelve she was taller and stronger than all the children in their town and some of the men as well she was also turning into a beauty. Her body matured at a young age and she began to look more womanly than girlish and boys and men began to notice. She did not respond to this well, and several fights occur when the older boys tried to have their way with the blacksmiths daughter and she declined. She also didn't stop growing by the time she was 15 she stood a little under 6 feet and was the tallest woman in the town and only shorter than a small number of men and the strongest of all both men and women. Her older brothers had married and worked as partners with her farther and she was assistant to all three. Her younger sisters and brother were all attendees of the now larger school and not dumb like their older sister. She was also no longer the most beautiful woman in town as her oldest sister , Raphilia, at thirteen was attracting the same attentions she had been receiving for several years without the benefit of Ser's ability to hold unwanted suitors off. But she did have her big sister.


The year she turned sixteen was the worst year of her life to this point. Winter was exceptionally harsh and her youngest sister became sick and died. That spring the Garriosn moved closer to the fighting the area in which they lived having been completely pacified. This caused a great loss in income for the family. And her father decided to marry her off. This did not sit well with Ser at all. She hadn't fought to keep her virtue all these years just to be sold off like cattle in an arranged marriage, not even to benefit her family. Some called this act selfish and in hind sight perhaps it was, Ser just knew deep down that marriage wasn't what she wanted and it wasn't just selfishness it was deeper, it was in her heart. So she ran away.


She didn't know what she wanted to do so she traveled as far as she could from her home town and eventually arrived at the Imperial capital. After trying to find honest work and having no luck she did what countless youths have done for centuries. She joined the army.


With her size (she now topped 6') and strength the army could care less about her ability to read. She was perfect for the infantry and she excelled at martial skills with a natural talent with weapons. She served well in the army and strangely it made her happy something she had never been as a smiths assistant.


After four years in the army while on campaign her life took another drastic turn. Still a private due to her inability to read and lack of education she found herself as always in the front lines of the battle with a savage tribe of orcs which had been terrorizing a distant province.


As always in these cases an army was sent. During the pivotal battle the line was breached and an elite squad of the filthy savages broke thru trapping the commanders staff, the officers not used to being in the battle fled but the Commanders horse was slain and he was trapped as the beast fell. Trapped and facing certain death the commander watched as the orcs closed in on him for the kil then out of nowhere a lone soldier smashed in to the orcs. Ser who was returning to the front line after being refreshed had seen the breakthrough and witnessed the fall of the commander without hesitating she had charged into the orcs and slain two of their number. Taking position over her trapped commander she fought defensively until a counterattack drove the orcs away. The Commander disgusted with the actions of his staff and to spite them rewarded Ser with a promotion to officer. On the surface this was a great reward, in truth not so much.


Being an Officer was hard. She didn't have the skills needed she couldn't even read not for want of trying but still the written word was mystery she could not comprehend. Her troops loved her because she fought with them not behind them and the other officers hated her because of her low upbringing, the way her men loved her and how even being a stupid bitch she tended to succeed with excellent results. All of this ended two years later.


Assigned to the same district where she had been promoted and under some of the very officers who had been embarrassed that fateful day, she found her self in command of a small patrol sent to investigate rumors of orc activity along the border. The patrol was ambushed. The orc force was much stronger than expected and not mere raiders but made up of the same elite orc death squad which had almost killed her Commander years ago. The patrol was slaughtered to a man and she was left mortally wounded, humiliated, raped by the inhuman monsters and left amid the corpses of her command to die. She could hear the laughter of the orc commander as they left her to suffer. Ser had never been religious only paying lip service to the gods. But that day lying there broken, dying she prayed. Prayed for vengeance not for herself but for her men she prayed for justice and vengeance on whoever had betrayed her command. For these orcs hadn't been raiders they had been waiting for her patrol and only betrayal could have made that possible.


With only moments of life left a shadow fell over her, through blood crusted eyes she saw a man weathered and scarred, wearing worn armor and caring a large Hammer. He knetl beside her looking at her. She moved her crushed lips but her dry through could do no more than croak. He spoke his voice harsh but soft. “No I won't waste water on a dead woman. Show me your will to live and maybe.â€

She could feel life slipping away her vision blurring growing darker. With effort she craoked one word “Waterâ€


Again the man shook his head. “No, show me you want to live. Hell if you weren't so messed up I might have raped you as well before you died its been along time since I had a woman, Heh. No Show us you want to Live†He hold up a water skin opens she can see the moisture at eh open cap. His words anger her. She cries not in pain or fear but with rage the darkness recedes , not entirely but enough with a ragged gasp as pain rips through her she hauls her self up and grasps the skin, but fall back before she can put it too he lips. A scream of rage rips from her throat and she hears a second voice this one clear and surreal at the same time.


“Enough Erold, Take her, teach her, send her to me. Justice will be done, Vengeance will be taken.â€


She felt water trickle into her throat, through the pain she felt the man close “Swear you will follow me if I give you life until the day I release you I will take no liberties not freely offered but you must do as I say in all things. I will hold your life until I give it back to you, and you shall become the hand of vengeance and justice. Swear to me and live.â€


Pain and Anger. Ser nods once and croaks one word, “Swear†then she feels his hands upon her and life flows back and she is reborn.


Years of training pass she is older, wiser. She has grown to her full height of six foot two and half inches. The scars she bears are visible but her beauty can still be seen. Not that any man or woman would act upon it her mere presence is one of intimidation. Erold told her what he was A paladin of Ithtari. Told her how he had known to be there at that place and that time. A task he had done many times but few showed the will to live. Fewer swore. And none until her had survived to the day he returned their life to them. Only a few days ago Erod told her that he was done with her she had earned her life back, had learned all he could teach her and that it was time they part. He had received another call and had left her to find her own way. His parting words to her both satisfying and cryptic. “Go Ser, Use what I have taught and if you succeed you too will be called. Its up to you whether you answer.†and he was gone.


Seraphania, sat in the tavern, her armor wasn't shiny her weapons not holy, she had no glow of righteousness about her, and she was almost broke. She waited. She was a Paladin, she would be called.




Hit Dice: D10 Total Hit Points: 12 Current Hit Points: 12

Death Saves Successes: Failed:


Initiative: 0 Speed : 30 Per Hour: 3 miles Per Day: 24 miles


Armor Class: 16/18 with a sword and shield

Armor Worn: Chain Mail AC: 16 Ench. Bonus: 0 Dex Mod: n/a

Shield AC: 2 Ench. Bonus: 0


STR: 19 (+4) DEX: 13 (+1) CON: 15 (+2) INT: 10 (0) WIS: 13 (+1) CHA: 16 (+3)


Proficiency Bonus: +2

SAVING THROWS (* indicates proficiency)

STR +4 DEX +1 CON +2 INT 0 *WIS +3 *CHA +5


SKILLS (* indicates proficiency)

Acrobatics (Dex) +1

Animal Handling (Wis) +1

Arcana (Int) 0

*Athletics (Str) +6

Deception (Cha) +3

History (Int) 0

Insight (Wis) +1

*Intimidation (Cha) +5

Investigation (Int) 0

Medicine (Wis) +1

Nature (Int) 0

* Perception (Wis) +3

Performance (Cha) +3

Persuasion (Cha) +3

Religion (Int) 0

Sleight of Hand (Dex) +1

Stealth (Dex) +1

Survival (Wis) +1


PASSIVE WISDOM (Perception): 13




Tool proficiency – dice

Tool proficiency – vehicles (land)





Heavy Armor Master (+1 to Strength, while wearing heavy armor, bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage taken from non magical weapons is reduced by 3.)




Weapon             Attack Damage/Type    Range   Weight

Long Sword*          +6      1d8+4  s       melee      3lb      does 1d10+4 if wielded two handed

War Hammer*       +6      1d8+4   b       melee        2lb     does 1d10+4 if wielded two handed

Dagger                 +6        1d4+4      p      melee        1lb       range 20/60 thrown attack +3 damage 1d4




OTHER NOTES: Including places explored, people & monsters met

Seraphania suffers from a set of severe learning disabilities despite having average intelligence. because of these disabilities she was often considered stupid. She does not suffer when learning by doing or with physical tasks although fine detail work is difficult for her due to lack of concentration.( If she were in modern she would be diagnosed with ADHD, Dyslexia, Dyscalculia (math problems).



CP: 7

SP: 49




Trinket: Rank Insignia of a Lost Legionnaire


war hammer, long sword, dagger, explorers pack (backpack, bedroll, messkit, tinderbox, 10 torches, 10 days rations, waterskin, 50' hemp rope), chainmail, holy symbol, rank insignia, set of dice, common clothes 5sp, travelers clothes 2gp, Healers kit 5gp, iron pot 2gp, soap 2cp, sack 1cp,

EXPERIENCE Needed for next level: 300

Stat rolls witnessed by Carver (carver allowed a reroll for the originaal 7 i rolled a 17 and redistributed my stats)

17– str (adds during creation +1 from racial, +1 from Feats final 17)

13 - wis

15 – cha (adds during creation +1 from racial final 16)

13 – dex

15 - con

10 - int

Soldier Roll

[Carver] 3:06 am: Forge: It wouldn't.

[Nina] 3:07 am: nite carv

Nina *rolls* 1d8: 1: 1

[Nina] 3:08 am: officer

[Lobby]: Carver has left at 3:08 am




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Sir Alexander Megalos

Human (Tyanan) Male, Fighter

Knight (Noble)

Lawful Good

Age: 21

Ht: 6'2

Wt: 210

Eyes: Blue

Skin: White (Greek/Turk tones)

Hair: Brown


Personality Trait: Despite my noble birth, I do not place myself above the other folk. We all have the same blood.

Ideals: Noble obligation. It is my duty to protect and care for the people beneath me.

Bonds: My loyalty to my sovereign is unwavering.

Flaws: I hide a truly scandalous secret that could ruin my family forever.


He is the third son of a noble family from Maelton known for their bravery and military brilliance. He along with his family supported the unification of the human kingdoms. He tends to favor men when it comes to performing traditional roles in society, but if a woman can prove herself or do it better he is more than willing to take them into his service. As the third son he has no inheritance so he sought out and became a Squire to train to become a Knight. During his time as a Squire he spent a good amount of time at the Imperial War College where he trained in tactics, strategy, and other courtly skills. After being Knighted, he was given a command of a small cavalry unit where he gained a name for himself when he rescued the Princess Elena from a Goblin ambush. When Princess Elena started planning for her grand exploration, she remember the Knight that rescued her and recruited him to help her explore for and conquer if necessary her new kingdom. 



Squire: Olivian Tosk, Human (Dotherian) Male

Chamberlain: Yethea Ravipi, Human (Iskander) Female

Smith: Brayden, Half-Dwarf (Human, Othinan) Male


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"What is this now?" Krugar scowled, leaning on Thok, his trusty warhammer.

"His Holiness is requiring documentation of all initiates." the young priest replied.

"Goblin's ass he is, yer floggin' lying."

"It is to be submitted as applications to the expeditions of the young royals. They will select a candidate, or candidates, for representation from the Legion of Corand as they seek the riches and lands owed them by right and rule."

"Whatever, ask fast or I'll be late for communin'."

The priest pulled a small folding travel desk from his robes with a flourish and kneeled on the pavers. He pulled a small piece of charcoal and a scrap of parchment from his sleeve before clearing his throat, "Shall we begin?"

Krugar sighed inwardly, relieved that the small parchment likely meant few questions. "No, let's us take a moment and braid some daisies into our hair, maybe get some nice wine."

The priest muttered under his breath before beginning, "Name."


"Your full name. It is a requirement for the spell of Veracity."

"Spell of who? You're making my head hurt...Krugar Rockbiter."


"Indentured Cleric in the service of the Most Holy, Legion of Corand."

"Do you adhere to the tenets of Law and pledge yourself to the greater good?"

"Yeah, sure. Most of the time. I'm good. Now, anyway. I mean, I try to be good...mostly."


"To where? Why? Oh...human."


"I dunna know. Not old enough to know better, eh?"


"Would you like to see?"

"Height." The priest quirked a smile.

Krugar clenched his jaw, "Tall enough."


"About 14 stone."

"Hair & eye color."

"Brown like fresh tilled soil. So I'm told by yer sister."

"I don't have one. Appearance."

"Ya asked me all these questions and yer standin' right there and you're still too floggin' stupid to see what I look like?"

"Unlike some, I do as I am instructed...without question. I shall note your response." The priest said coolly before continuing, "Background."

"I was a floggin' murderous bandit before ya locked me up, then bought my billet! Five years ago!" Krugar yelled. "Ya feel better about yerself? I could show ya my unholy nature!"

The priest wiped spittle from a cheek, grinning, "My opinion holds no sway in regards to your station. Though you will undoubtedly be lucky to even be called on as fodder."

"Ya take that back!"

"Or what? You'll hurt me? You'll swing that hammer? You are so easy to manipulate it is pathetic. You'll never leave here." The priest stood and with the same deft movement replaced the small desk into the depths of his robes. He scoffed and then turned to walk across the large courtyard of the temple.

Krugar picked up Thok and clenched the haft, willing it to heat. As he had been taught, he attempted to channel his anger into the metal. To vent it into his instrument of battle so that with clear vision he could survey the conflict. Then he saw the priest toss the small scrap of parchment into the fountain.

With a roar of anger, he tossed the warhammer aside and charged. The priest turned at the last moment to see the half-dwarf flying through the air. They were both carried into the fountain's well but not before they crunched into a stone representation of a shield.

The priest emerged from the water gasping in shock, "How dar...!"

Krugar smashed his head into the stone of the central statue. Blood gushed and teeth pierced his lips. "Great Corand, bless this most worthy victim and heal his wounds."

The bleeding stopped and the flesh knit itself around a mouth that began screaming only to be smashed into the statue again. "Great Corand, bless this most worthy victim and heal his wounds...again."

Like before, the injuries melted away though red stained most of the front of the priest's drenched robes. Krugar pulled his arm back to begin again when he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and the world faded to black.

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Evan Roadbound grew up on the plateaus favored by villages of Stoutblooded Halflings. The halfling at a young age was determined and bold, as much of his kin were. It did not however, make him a good fit for the clans of Halfling society. After all, being a child is well and good, but everyone grows up and recognizes they are adults.


Having other people not recognize that, in turn, becomes immensely infuriating. Any ideas he might proffer for fighting or the village business was sweetly dismissed without consideration, and he would never have a say worthy of a person. And then traders ushered through, with hints and words of how things were different in the Empire.


Evan snapped up his pack and left without a word to his family. They really didn't deserve any.




Name: Evan Roadbound

Level: 1

Race: Halfling [stout]

Class: Monk

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Size: Small

Speed: 25 feet

Languages: Common, Halfling, Dwarvish, Elvish


Personality Trait: Evan takes an interest in the local animals, domesticated or otherwise.

Ideal: All people should be treated fairly.

Bond: Evan is far more approving of the spreading of human culture, it promoting equality regardless of gender.

Flaw: Evan has a chip on the shoulder issue from halfling society. Respect him, dammit!


Ability Scores

Strength 9 (-1), Dexterity 17 (+3), Constitution 14 (+2), Intelligence 13 (+1), Wisdom 14 (+2), Charisma 12 (+1)



Hit Dice: 1d8

HP: 10



AC: 15

Quarterstaff +5, 1d6+3/1d8+3 bludgeoning

Shortsword +5, 1d6+3 piercing

Dart +5, 1d4+3 piercing


Racial Traits

Lucky: When you roll a natural 1 on an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw, you can reroll the die and must use the new roll.
Brave: You have advantage on saving throws against being frightened.
Halfling Nimbleness: You can move through the space of any creature that is of a size larger than yours.

Stout Resilience: You have advantage on saving throws against poison, and resistance against poison damage.


Class Traits

Unarmored Defense

Martial Arts (d4)



Proficiency Bonus: +2

Armor: None

Tools: Pipes (musical), Horn (musical)

Weapons: Simple weapons, short swords

Saving Throws: Strength, Dexterity

Skills: Acrobatics, Athletics, Stealth, Survival


Background: Outlander

Trait: Wanderer



Gear: Explorer's pack, Hunting trap, Ram horn, Traveler's clothes, 21 gp, a small cloth doll skewered with needles [that won't go away]

Armor: None

Weapons: Quarterstaff [1d6/1d8 bludgeoning], Short sword [1d6 piercing], 10 darts [1d4 piercing, range 20/60]


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Dru Ffordd (pronounced as the Welsh = forth), AKA: Sharp eyed Dru, where the f@#k is Dru

Height     5'6" (about average, perhaps slightly below)
Hair         Black, short cropped but not shaven, bald head can glint at night.
Hand       Right, but can use weapons in either hand
Eyes        Brown

Dru doesn't know his real surname as he lived on the streets for a number of years until eventually taken in by a gang (the Blues, named after the predominately blue robes of one of the sympathetic Wizards near whose shop they were based) who appreciated his light fingers. Unfortunately this island of stability came to an end when he was 14-16, about 10 years ago, when the leader of another gang (the Royals, since the leader claimed to be the bastard son of a noble) decided he should emulate the emperor and unify the street gangs and thieves companies into a single city wide guild. In the process Dru's gang were pretty much wiped out and Dru himself was pursued for several hours until he ducked into an Army recruiting tent in one of the cities market places. He got away from the unifier's gang but was recruited into the Army during the last years of the Unification wars.

Boot camp was an unpleasant awakening to his new situation. His young age and below average height at the time drew bullys amongst the other recruits initially, and that drew in a tall, strong young woman who didn't like bulllies. Ser saved him a number of times in the first week when he couldn't sneak away from his persecutors fast enough. After that his speed at putting them down when using light weapons and several of them getting in trouble for things he had planted in their kit persuaded them to leave him alone. However, he remained grateful to Ser and tried to help her out with the bits she had difficulty with. Dru did fine on a lot of the basic stuff, long marches, obstacle course, dagger, short sword, short bow but he couldn't seem to see the point in the bigger weapons. That, his obvious observation skills and his background lead to him being reassigned to a specialist unit under Major Lanak.


With Major Lanak his training continued along standard lines, with lots of running, marches and obstacle courses as well as the skills of a cartier to move the groups equipment when needed, but it also included simulated night raids, camp infiltration, officer identification and elimination. These were much more to Dru's liking than standing in lines of pikes or lugging around a longbow that's too big to hide conveniently.


Once he had completed his couple of months of basic training the war was a hectic time for Dru. He was assigned all over the area of the front General Helos was responsible for. Typically he might only be with a company for a week, going out ahead with their rangers then sneaking into enemy camps at night to retrieve information, kill their officers or destroy their supplies and disrupt their camp. He was soon highly regarded by the Major and had been mentioned in dispatches to the General a few times. This just lead to an increased workload and a raising of the rank of his targets. As this was the tail end of the war he was fighting the Ultgars and has a respect for their skill and tenacity to this day.


After the war he continued to be based in the South for most of the following ten years but now his targets were Goblin camps led by hobgoblins, orcs or shamans. In order to fulfill his tasks he learnt their language although without any great enjoyment in the task. Given his keen observation skills when he wasn't infiltrating enemy camps he was deployed as a concealed bodyguard for the General. While others would focus on the obvious guards in there fancy armour and shiny weapons Dru would drift around the General's pavillion watching the watchers of the watchmen.


1st Level Rogue

STR = 12                   [+1]    HD = d8 HP= 8+2 = 10
CON = 15                  [+2]
DEX = 18                   [+4]
INT = 12+1= 13        [+1]
WIS = 12+1+1 = 14 [+2]
CHA = 11                  [+0]

Background = Soldier
Feats = Observant, can read lips and get + 5 to Passive Perception and Passive Investigation

Save Proficiency = Dexterity and Intelligence

Weapon Proficiency = Simple, hand cross bow, longsword, rapiers, and short swords
Armour Proficiency = Light armour
Tools = Thieves tools

Athletics +3
Intimidation +3
Dice Set +2
Land Vehicles +6 (assuming Dex)
Stealth x2 +8
Sleight of Hand +6
Investigation +3 (18 Passive)
Perception x2 +6 (21 Passive)


Rank insignia
trophy dagger
Dice set
Common Clothes
belt pouch with 8gp 8sp in
Short bow and quiver of 20 arrows
Leather armour
2 daggers
thieves tools
Dungeoneers Pack
mess kit

Alabaster Mask



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Neutral Half Halfling Druid 1



Appearance: 4' 5" tall, 65lbs, dirty blonde hair; Aridha's proportions are closer to a human's than a halfling's though her ears still have noticible points to them. She tends to walk with a habitual slouch, a natural reaction to having lived in a world just a little too small for her.



Aridha's mother, Helena, is the matron of her clan, and a controversial figure in local halfling politics. Strong willed, but also headstrong and stubborn, she sparked a scandal in the clan by having the child of a human man who had come to negotiate trade with his township. Ironically, that deal fell through. In fact, the two appeared to have parted on bad terms, and Aridha's mother refused to speak of him to her daughter or anyone else. Aridha never fit into the halfling village, literally and figuratively. She grew fast and strong, swiftly towering a head or more over even adults. Children made fun of her, and parents never quite trusted the 'giant' not to hurt their kids, even by accident, so she had few friends growing up. A misfit among halflings, it didn't take long for Aridha to start asking about her father, only to have her mother put her foot down. It wasn't the only time they'd have that argument, and their fights became legendary around the village.


Finally Aridha had had enough, and left on her own to try to track her father down. Her mother had said she was a fool girl for wanting to do it. It turned out that she probably should have listened to her.


She followed the river that flowed down from the mountains, across the steppes and highlands where her village tended their flocks and to the woods that spread out below. The closest human town was on the far side, where they farmed the floodplains and logged the edge of the woods. There were paths worn by wagons and travelers, but no actual roads. It took a full day and night to cross the forest, and while she appreciated the beauty and novelty of it, the night was the most terrifying experience of her young life.


It got incredibly dark, with the canopy blotting out stars and even the moon, just a few days past full, overhead. Aridha started a fire mostly for light, as it was fairly warm outside. The attack came without warning. One moment she was sitting with some meat on a stick over the fire, the next she was bowled over rolling away as something enormous swatted at her! The creature seized her left arm and shoulder in its jaws, and Aridha reacted on sheer instinct through the pain; grabbing her hunting knife and jamming it straight into the thing's shaggy face! It roared and tossed her away, and she scrabbled back to the fire. Her hand closed on the stick she'd been roasting on, which had fallen in, and was now on fire...just as a great weight fell on her, pinning her down. Heedless, she thrust the flaming brand back, and dropped her knife to start grabbing coals from the firepit...burning her hands, but throwing little chunks of hot wood back at the creature as well.


'Lena had always said if animals trouble you, start a fire. The beasts of the world cannot abide flame. And she was right again, damn her.


The knife had barely given the monster pause, but having fire and coals shoved at it caused it to hiss and make a horrible keening yowl before vanishing back into the night. Exhausted and terrified and hurt, Aridha threw more wood on the fire before even seeing to her wounds, then bandaged what she could and spent the rest of the night up a tree, unable to sleep. But the monster didn't come back. With time to think, and put her confused glimpses in order, she decided it had looked like...a cat of all things. An absolutely gigantic white cat, with black stripes. Strange coloration for a forest.


The following day, Aridha limped her way to the human town. Too big to be a halfling, too small to be an adult, most assumed she was a young human at first. Annoying, but it did mean her injuries were immediately seen to. They told her that a creature like that had been spotted over the last several days, preying on the livestock around on the farms. Finally the townsfolk had banded together with what weapons they could muster and torches, and driven the beast back into the woods. Where, it seemed, it had hunted other prey. One of the traveling merchants, with a caravan from far off lands, called it a 'tiger,' and had been completely flummoxed as to what it was doing this far from its native ground.


The bite however became infected, and Aridha fell ill. Without a regular chapel, the village depended on the healing arts of a small circle of druids who lived in the woods. The spell of the druid countered the fever, but he realized more than just that was amiss. Taking her aside, the druid explained that Aridha had signs of a powerful magical curse. The 'tiger' had been no ordinary beast, but a shape-changer. She would now change too, when the madness of the moon fell over her. She would awaken on the first night of the full moon as a beast that had not eaten in weeks. With ravening hunger she would hunt and kill, potentially anything that happened to be at hand, with not even a spark of her mind or memories. Removing the curse required magical power that no one in the circle there had.


But, he added, it could perhaps be contained. She had until the next full moon to find the lycanthrope and get some of its blood. That could be used to make a draught that would stave off the transformation...for a time at least. Hearing that, Aridha drew her knife. The knife she'd used to gouge the tiger, if shallowly, and then been too tired and hurt to bother cleaning. Its blade was stained with blood.


As the druid did the rites to prepare the draught, Aridha looked for her father. There had been a man, she found, who had come to the town some time back and matched the description she got from other halflings around her village. He'd been a charming man, who's only flaw had been that he was a charlatan...playing a merchant while scamming folks out of their coin. When word started getting around, he'd vanished...most likely, Aridha realized, to head over to her village and try to play them too. But her mother had thrown him out on his ear. After...sleeping with him?


There was more to that story, but she wouldn't get to hear it soon. Not while there was even a chance she might turn into a monster and attack people. If there was anything leaving home had taught Aridha, it was how much she loved her home, with all its flaws.


On her way to meet the druid again, Aridha stopped by her old campsite and saw something strange. There were footprints in the soft soil around it. Human sized booted footprints. And something white gleamed in the grass nearby one of them. She dug it carefully out, and found a little trinket of sharpened bone...several slivers affixed to one another in a way that she thought was meant to assure that one point would always be sticking up, no matter how it fell. Convinced that these footprints belonged to the human form of the creature that had attacked her, Aridha tucked the caltop away and went on into the woods.


The druid met her there with a flask. Even a sip would stop the change, he informed her, but once it was gone there was no replacing it. Not without more of the blood of the creature that cursed her. Having spoken around town, Aridha had heard things about the druids by that time though...among them that they could change into beasts as well. He acknowledged that, but explained it was different. A manipulation of natural magic, the druid's change was controlled; they were never forced into an animal's body, and once there they kept their mind and senses.


Could she learn that, Aridha wondered. Would it help? But of course, the druids didn't simply teach their mysteries to just anyone. You had to take the oaths and vows. You had to become one of them.


That night, Aridha wrote her mother a long letter. In it she explained as much as she dared, apologized, assured, and otherwise tried to make whatever uneasy peace that could be made between them. Then she went into the woods to meet the rest of the circle. Her circle.


Unfortunately, she didn't have time to learn more than the basics of the craft of druidism. Her flask was emptying slowly...a sip every couple of weeks that added up...and the answers and solutions were no closer. So, with the skills and magic she'd learned, Aridha set out again to track the great white tiger down...this time to take ALL of its blood. Enough for a lifetime of freedom from its curse.


Str 14
Dex 16
Con 14
Int 10
Wis 16
Cha 12

HP 10
AC 15 (10 + 3 dex +1 leather + 1 shield)
Prof Bonus +2
Init +3

Half Halfling
+2 Dex, +1 Con, +1 Wis
Size: Medium
Move 25
Lucky: Reroll 1's on ability checks, saves and attacks
Brave: Adv on saves vs fear effects

Druidic Language

Armor: Light, Medium, shields (only nonmetal armor)
Weapons: Clubs, daggers, darts, jevelins, maces, staves, scimitars, sickles, slings, spears
Tools: Herbalism Kit
Saves: Intelligence and Wisdom

Skills: Athletics and Survival
Tools: Any one musical instrument (Panflute)
Bonus Language
Origin: Bounty Hunter
Feature: Wanderer (excellent memory for maps and geography, can find food and water for group)

Athletics +4
Perception +5
Insight +5
Medicine +5
Survival +5
Stealth +5

Common, Halfling, Druidic, Dwarvish

Spellcasting (Save DC 13)
Slots 1 - 2
- Guidence
- Thorn Whip
1 - Cure Wounds, Entangle, Faerie Fire, Longstrider

Cash: 8gp

Dagger, +5 atk, 1d4+3 pierce dmg, 2gp
Spear, +4 atk, 1d6+2 pierce dmg
Staff, +4 atk, 1d6+2 blud dmg

Leather armor
Wooden shield

Skull totem (spellcasting focus)
Explorer's pack
Hunting Trap
A single caltrop, made from bone

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Magda Fireforge


Female / Mountain Dwarf / Barbarian


Height: 4'8"

Weight: 184 lbs





Though a 'Barbarian' by class, Magda is not some painted-face savage. Far from it, in fact.


By and large she looks and dresses like most other dwarves, though with a slight preference for leather and usually has a bear fir mantle for warmth. Her auburn hair is either braided or worn in dreads, depending on the time of year and how much effort she felt like putting forth.


Magda is tall, even for a mountain dwarf, usually being the tallest dwarf most people have ever seen while her build is strong, athletic and somewhat lean (by dwarven standards at least0 often disguising the muscular power she has. She totally eschews armor, preferring to carry a shield at most, paired with her warhammer or battleaxe.


When traveling Magda usually had her staff on one hand, serving as a walking stick and one of her javelins in the other hand, ready to provide a quick meal on the road while her hunting trap usually offered larger game.


Magda was indeed an odd dwarf. Totally at ease in the wilds, sleeping under the stars, finding food, water and shelter with ease and totally eschewing armor of any kind. An odd dwarf indeed.






Magda grew up like a typical dwarven girl deep in the underground holds and keeps of her people. She had always felt a fascination with combat though, sneaking off to watch the warriors train and spar which often led to her burning meals. She took her occasional scoldings and continued maturing, but soon began to realize that the life of a housewife, was all that was in store for her. Her mother seemed happy and content with that life, but Magda knew it was not the life she wanted. She argued, pleaded and fought, trying to get a place among the warriors of the mountain dwarves, but was always turned away, without fail.


When it came time for her to settle down and find a husband, she just could not relent. The community started talking about Magda and her attempt to buck the traditions that had been observed for centuries. The word 'exile' even came up. Finally, given once last chance to accept her place by the hearth, Magda refused and that word came up again. Exile.


"Fine" Magda proclaimed. "If the you, my own people, will not let me reach my calling, then you can stay down here, huddled and hiding in your holes, while I go forth, out into the world... to the surface where we once dwelled before we let some Halflings send us cowering into the earth. With courage and determination like a TRUE dwarf I will go forth and seek my place.. my calling to glorious combat."


The other dwarves were shocked at her statements and spoke in hushed murmurs.


"Enjoy your hole in the dirt." she added, and threw her pack, stuffed with her few belongings, over her shoulder and turned away to seldom used passage to the surface.


"Wait. Magda. Wait." a familiar voice called out.


Magda turned to see her mother running to her.


"You know I wish you would stay. But I hope you know that I understand too. You are a Fireforge. Our passions burn hot. Just please... don;t let that fire consume you." her mother said as tears welled in her eyes.


"Here. Take this... The family had kept this since before The War,I am not sure where it is or what is there, but maybe it can help you...up there..." her mother offered, handing her a very old slip of paper. A receipt of deposit from a bank in a city she had never heard of.


Magda reach for the paper. Her hand was trembling from a mixture of pain, anger, frustration and loss.Her mother put the paper in her hand and closed Magda's fingers around it, holding her firth with both hands.


"And always remember dear.. No matter where you go.. No matter what you do.. I am proud of you and will always love you." her mother said, barely getting it out before clutching Magda close in a fierce hug.Magda return the embrace for what seemed like days and then stuffed the paper into a pouch.


"I love you too, Mom..." she sobbed and turned, taking a deep breath an in attempt to compose herself as she took her first step down the passageway.




Years passed and Magda adapted to the world above. The air, the rain, the plants, the SUN. It was like she had found something she was missing her entire life. She learned to survive, partially on her own by studying the bear, and partially from other woodsmen and the like who found the dwarf interesting. She learned to fight, channeling the rage she felt at her kind's traditions, stubbornness and the pain of her own loss into a fierce style of combat. She didn't need armor. It was just heavy, loud and got in the way. Her people had gone soft, driven into the ground and sheathing themselves in it's metals. She was a real dwarf. A TRUE dwarf.Fighting and surviving by determination without the need for a second skin of metal.


"Luxury is the herald of weakness", she thought.




After spending year in the wilds, living on her own. Hunting, fishing, foraging and trapping both for food, meat, furs and the occasional coin the trader she dealt with suggested joining the expedition into the lands of the greeskins. They would certainly offer new challenges and experiences. And besides.. maybe the city with that bank was down there.. somewhere.

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