Stannor Warmwater, Male Halfling [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: A plain young-adult man, he very much looks the part of a Stylist. He wears a colorful flower in his red hair. His brown eyes are slightly larger than normal.
Personality: He is quiet and anti-social and can barely make it a few minutes in conversation before his hampering stammer kicks in. He is lazy, self-centered, vain, and jealous.
History: Born in the south to a Stylist, Stannor learned a great deal about his father's area of expertise. He sought a place where he would be rewarded solely on the merits of his skills. This search led him directly into Stylist work with an outfit from a few towns over. Stylist work suited him well, and with each successful project, he earned more gold and more respect from his peers. He tends to his Stylist job now, and dutifully fulfills any obligations he has.
Motivation: Wants to open a new tavern; and sabotage a competitor
Flaws: Shy, Selfish, Disease. Bonds: Job, Attractive. Occupation: Stylist
Voice: Rhymes sentences (sorry)
Attributes [hide]
Small (3'0") Halfling, Chaotic Good (CR 3)
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 24 (3d8)
Speed 20 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
8 (-1) | 14 (+2) | 14 (+2) | 12 (+1) | 11 (+0) | 14 (+2) |
Senses Passive Perception 10
Languages Common, Halfling, Sylvan
Attacks Melee +1 / 1d8-1, Ranged +4 / 1d8+2, Grapple +2
DC | 0 | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | |
Spell /Day | 10 | 0 | 0 |
Possessions: 100 gp.
Everard Ilphelkiir, Male Half-Elf [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: 5'4" and muscular, this southern man is armored in gleaming platemail with gilded edges. A flowing brown cape and mantle trimmed with soft blue waves gently in the breeze. His red hair is lengthy. His gray eyes are passionate and lively.
Personality: Everard speaks confidently about a variety of topics with grace. He is clearly well-traveled and educated. He is a ruthless business man, a trait he acquired from his mother.
History: He was born blind and as such lacked many opportunities for work. He has chosen to use the inheritance that was left to him frivolously. He knows his nephew is from a royal line that had remained secret for centuries, but promised not to tell anyone. So far, no-one knows but him.
Motivation: He doesn't get along with people that don't share his tastes.
Ideals: Athletic, Impeccable, Entrepeneur. Flaws: Disease. Bonds: Rich. Occupation: Barber
Voice: Speaks with back of mouth
Attributes [hide]
Medium (5'4") Half-Elf, Chaotic Evil (CR 1)
Armor Class 11
Hit Points 6 (1d4)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
13 (+1) | 12 (+1) | 15 (+2) | 13 (+1) | 16 (+3) | 12 (+1) |
Senses Passive Perception 13
Languages Common, Elven, Celestial
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: 160 gp. Smoky quartz (80 gp).
Lewis Budd, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: He is armored in gleaming platemail with gilded edges. A flowing brown cape and mantle trimmed with soft black waves gently in the breeze. His brown hair is still thick. His brown eyes show the wear and tear of someone lonely with a great burden to carry.
Personality: He does not believe in betrayal or weakness as things to be tolerated. More though he will beg to come along on any journeys. He will attempt to stowaway on any ship he can in the hopes that it will get him further away.
History: His history is one of pain. He was disowned by both parents and raised among the slaves his parents kept. One day when Lewis was young, his father was sewing while trying to overcome the flu, when suddenly his father dropped to the ground dead. His father had died from a severe disease that was unknown to the village doctor. Lewis was heart-stricken from the event, and his mother started working long hours to provde for them. When his spouse passed he lost his only source of income but claims to his daughters to still be retired.
Motivation: He is currently in port desperately looking for someone to get him out.
Ideals: Justice. Flaws: PTSD. Bonds: Rich, Slave, Family. Occupation: Fortune-teller
Voice: Speaks fast with a slight lisp
Attributes [hide]
Medium (5'7") Human, Chaotic Good (CR 1)
Armor Class 12
Hit Points 5 (1d4)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
13 (+1) | 14 (+2) | 13 (+1) | 9 (-1) | 14 (+2) | 13 (+1) |
Senses Passive Perception 12
Languages Common
Attacks Melee +3 / 1d4+1, Ranged +4 / 1d4+2, Grapple +2
DC | 0 | 1st | 2nd | 3rd | 4th | 5th | 6th | 7th | 8th | 9th | |
Spell /Day | 9 |
Possessions: Brown-green garnet (150 gp).
Pígug Paxton, Male Half-Orc [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: This slender man stands about 6'8". He is wearing the road beaten gear of a warrior. His auburn hair is singed and shortened. His hazel eyes are passionate and lively.
Personality: He will rave to anyone who will listen. On top of that he is swayed by a pretty face, and while loyalty to his employer will always come first he doesn't like to hit women.
History: Pígug was born to in a poor docking district. He spent his early days working in the same smith shop his mother was employed at, doing general labor. While he appears to be a normal Half-Orc, he's... not quite right. Perhaps he's slightly insane, or otherwise so mentally alien to the rest of the world that he plain doesn't fit in. He became a plane-shifter, and is stopping over on this plane for a brief visit.
Motivation: He has a crush on the local Bowyer; and he's looking for his big break
Ideals: Fighting. Flaws: Ugly, Insane. Bonds: Has a crush, Adventurer, Poor. Occupation: Guard
Voice: Rolls R's
Attributes [hide]
Medium (6'8") Half-Orc, Lawful Neutral (CR 2)
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 19 (2d10)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
16 (+3) | 17 (+3) | 12 (+1) | 11 (+0) | 13 (+1) | 16 (+3) |
Senses Passive Perception 11
Languages Common, Orc
Attacks Melee +5 / 1d6+3, Ranged +5 / 1d6+3, Grapple +3
Possessions: Just what you see.
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