Anbera Bigtoe, Female Dwarf [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: This woman is very fat, and dresses in collared shirts and wears a proper scarf over her head. Her tied-back hair is chestnut. Her green eyes have a joyful gleam in them most of the time.
Personality: She swings through moods quickly. One moment she is cool and collected, the next she is carried away by passions. She does not believe in violence as a means to an end. She is a dedicated Priest but believes her peers are too gung-ho.
History: A studious child she never was much for a social life, not because she was unlikable, but because she did not seek it out. Ostracized due to the necromantic powers of her oldest brother, she and her siblings struck out on their own. In the process these unassuming Dwarves became a terror of the countryside. She has been a successful dealer in antiques buying low and selling high.
Motivation: Retire the richest woman in the east; and she wants random interesting trinkets and junk, hates to throw anything away
Ideals: Passionate, Pacifist, Gifted, Entrepeneur. Flaws: Ugly. Occupation: Priest
Voice: Uses lots of figures of speech
Attributes [hide]
Medium (4'2") Dwarf, Neutral Evil (CR 1)
Armor Class 11
Hit Points 12 (1d8)
Speed 20 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
16 (+3) | 13 (+1) | 18 (+4) | 12 (+1) | 13 (+1) | 9 (-1) |
Senses Passive Perception 11
Languages Common, Dwarven, Gnome
Attacks Melee +5 / 1d4+3, Ranged +3 / 1d4+1, Grapple +3
DC | 0 | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | |
Spell /Day | 11 | 3 | 1 | 0 | 0 |
Possessions: 50 gp.
Peter Wakefield, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: The dark-skinned man stands 5'3" and wears a suit in poor condition. It has not been laundered in sometime and has been worn in activities one would not normally wear a suit during. His blonde hair is kept up in a ponytail inside a feathered hat. His eyes are hazel and he is always smoking a pipe.
Personality: He is irascible and easily irritated. He has the money to obtain near anything and knows that if you pay a man enough he will sell his own mother. Money is his most trusted friend.
History: He was born to a wealthy landowner in a frontier town, living a normal and happy childhood. He sought a place where he would be rewarded solely on the merits of his skills. This search led him directly into Tailor work with an outfit from a few towns over. Tailor work suited him well, and with each successful project, he earned more gold and more respect from his peers. During his travels, Peter and his party rested in a cavern that was (unknown to them) infused with powerful dark magic. Upon awakening, Peter discovered the rest of his party dead, transformed into horrible, mindless undead versions of their former selves. Peter fled the cavern, stopping for breath at a small pool, and only then realizing his own horrible transformation.
Motivation: He has money and likes to spend it; and wants to open a new tavern
Flaws: Antagonistic, Disease. Bonds: Adventurer, Rich, Job. Occupation: Tailor
Voice: Voice breaks
Attributes [hide]
Medium (5'3") Human, True Neutral (CR 1)
Armor Class 11
Hit Points 10 (1d8)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
9 (-1) | 12 (+1) | 15 (+2) | 11 (+0) | 16 (+3) | 16 (+3) |
Senses Passive Perception 13
Languages Common
Attacks Melee +1 / 1d4-1, Ranged +3 / 1d4+1, Grapple +1
DC | 0 | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | |
Spell /Day | 10 | 2 | 1 |
Possessions: 70 gp.
Mordai Doom, Male Tiefling [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: A plain young-adult man, he wears rags and sports a simple walking cane. His hair is silver and curly. He wears an eyepatch.
Personality: He is fixated on the number 35. He counts his steps and bites of food to keep in track with it. He seems to be used to being ignored and not questioned about it. He enjoys reading and quiet.
History: He grew up in a lower middle class home, but living comfortably wasn't enough. He was taken as a slave by a traveling circus and forced to perform He routinely visits covens of witches but complains that many are fraudulent and lack true knowledge of magic.
Motivation: To end his boredom; and he seems to be bored by most things
Ideals: Logical. Flaws: Ugly, Insane, Mundane. Bonds: Poor, Slave. Occupation: Dyer
Voice: Farmer accent
Attributes [hide]
Medium (6'5") Tiefling, True Neutral (CR 1)
Armor Class 11
Hit Points 6 (1d4)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
12 (+1) | 13 (+1) | 14 (+2) | 13 (+1) | 18 (+4) | 16 (+3) |
Senses Passive Perception 14
Languages Common, Aquan
Attacks Melee +3 / 1d4+1, Ranged +3 / 1d4+1, Grapple +1
DC | 0 | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | |
Spell /Day | 11 | 5 | 3 | 0 | 0 |
Possessions: 50 gp. Deep green spinel (70 gp).
Nuraval Torunn, Male Dwarf [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: He dresses well, typically a more casual-formal manner, and carries longswords. His hair is short and red. His fair skin shows little sign of his aristocratic breeding.
Personality: He is soft-spoken, optimistic and speaks nonstop, as he rather likes the sound of his voice. His demeanor is somewhat feminine. He is frequently practicing swordplay.
History: He was born on a small isolated farm. He graduated from the Naval Academy and went to see the world at the rank of Ensign. He advanced relatively quickly due to his good work ethic, understanding of the chain of command, and natural leadership ability. Recently a tribe of illithids attacked the village and all able bodies who could hold a blade were quickly armed and sent to the walls. Nuraval fought at the side of some of the regions greatest heroes but was never overshadowed.
Motivation: To fight the greatest warriors and to fight in the greatest battles ever; and wants to have a good time and be beloved
Ideals: Fighting, Optimist. Bonds: Attractive, Military, Nature. Occupation: Courier
Voice: Farmer accent
Attributes [hide]
Medium (4'0") Dwarf, Lawful Neutral (CR 2)
Armor Class 12
Hit Points 22 (2d8)
Speed 20 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
16 (+3) | 15 (+2) | 16 (+3) | 17 (+3) | 11 (+0) | 10 (+0) |
Senses Passive Perception 10
Languages Common, Dwarven, Giant, Druidic, Terran
Attacks Melee +5 / 1d6+3, Ranged +4 / 1d6+2, Grapple +3
DC | 0 | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | |
Spell /Day | 13 | 2 | 2 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 |
Possessions: 130 gp.
Tana Albaratie, Female Gnome [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: This malnourished woman wears a shirt that is too small, which lets her gut show, with a ratty tan coat over it. Her red hair is cut short with large spiked bangs in the front. Judging by the bloodshot nature of her eyes and the massive bags underneath them one would imagine she has not slept for days.
Personality: She is quiet and reserved most of the time, but warms up to people very quickly. Around friends she is liable to tell dirty jokes and enjoy herself. She has a minor phobia of water and hates getting wet.
History: Tana was born to in a poor docking district. She spent her early days working in the same smith shop her father was employed at, doing general labor. In her 17th year, while out on a day-trip, she returned to find her hometown burning and destroyed. She found her father impaled in their home, and her mother beheaded. She saw the woman who walked out, and charged her in a blind rage. The woman easily evaded and defeated her, leaving her to live broken and terrified. She hasn't been sleeping well lately.
Motivation: To get a good night's sleep; and she is terrified, and will act out of fear
Ideals: Joker. Flaws: Ugly, Insomniac, Fearful. Bonds: Poor. Occupation: Brewer
Voice: Speaks with lower jaw sticking out
Attributes [hide]
Small (3'1") Gnome, Lawful Evil (CR 1)
Armor Class 10
Hit Points 10 (1d8)
Speed 20 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
14 (+2) | 9 (-1) | 15 (+2) | 13 (+1) | 13 (+1) | 12 (+1) |
Senses Passive Perception 11
Languages Common, Gnome, Celestial
Attacks Melee +4 / 1d4+2, Ranged +1 / 1d4-1, Grapple +2
Possessions: Just what you see.
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