Norman Beverly, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: He is lean but muscular and is wearing a tight brown one piece outfit complete with pants, hood, and a cape. He keeps his blonde hair in a flapper bob. He was beautiful and young once, which still shows through his age, but it is a faded beauty.
Personality: He is fixated on the number 27. 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 moves from fascination to fascination almost instantaneously. If something can keep his interest for a month it is impressive.
History: A child with a great deal of music talent his parents made sure he got the chance to thrive. At a young age both his parents were killed in an accident. His uncle (a powerful person with enemies on both sides of the law) took him in and had him trained in basic self defense. Recently he has begun working with bootleggers and crooks.
Motivation: He possesses a valuable artifact that the thieves guild wishes to steal; and a rival would like him out of the picture
Ideals: Artistic. Flaws: Insane, Hedonist. Bonds: Attractive, Criminal record. Occupation: Stylist
Voice: Soft and mumbly
Attributes [hide]
Medium (6'1") Human, Lawful Evil (CR 3)
Armor Class 11
Hit Points 34 (3d10)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
9 (-1) | 12 (+1) | 16 (+3) | 12 (+1) | 17 (+3) | 18 (+4) |
Senses Passive Perception 13
Languages Common, Sylvan
Attacks Melee +1 / 1d8-1, Ranged +3 / 1d8+1, Grapple +1
Possessions: 2800 sp.
Tim Mitchell, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: A plain young-adult man, he wears dark leathers with embroidery. He has moderate length white hair. His eyes, though not visible through his cowl, are hazel.
Personality: Tim speaks confidently about a variety of topics with grace. He is clearly well-traveled and educated. As long as the job gets done he does not care how it got done.
History: He was born to loving parents in a slum to the east. He made a point of taking high paying jobs and getting most of it up front. When he grew older, he became a bit more civilized, usually hanging around bars and taverns. He began work as a mercenary for hire. He would embark on any mission as long as the price was right.
Motivation: He made a deal with a demon which lead to his current lot in life, and he's becoming increasingly nervous about it; and meet up once more with his childhood friend
Ideals: Impeccable, Professionalism. Bonds: Poor, Adventurer, Debt. Occupation: Mortician
Voice: Booming voice
Attributes [hide]
Medium (5'8") Human, Lawful Evil (CR 3)
Armor Class 12
Hit Points 24 (3d10)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
14 (+2) | 15 (+2) | 12 (+1) | 16 (+3) | 13 (+1) | 13 (+1) |
Senses Passive Perception 11
Languages Common, Giant, Orc, Aquan
Attacks Melee +4 / 1d8+2, Ranged +4 / 1d8+2, Grapple +2
Possessions: 2600 sp. 1 Masterwork Heavy steel shield. 1 Masterwork Light steel shield.
Arnold Pickering, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: He is generally well dressed albeit a few years behind the times, and carries axes. He has a long red beard with little hanging trinkets. He wears a mask on his face.
Personality: He is a jovial happy person, but he is convinced people are living their lives too quickly. His respect, as difficult as one would find it to earn, is unwavering; those who more than prove themselves to him, a bar set well above any reasonable standard, he tolerates in varying degrees. Though less modest and more hasty in his reactions to snap at those who irritate him, Arnold is combative with any and all who dare try his patience in the slightest.
History: He was born to loving parents in a slum to the south. Since his father passed away years ago, his mother had doted on him, and he came to think her himself as special and better than other people in town. A notion that was reinforced by his attractiveness, a trait in which he easily excels the other men of his town. Recently a tribe of drow attacked the village and all able bodies who could hold a blade were quickly armed and sent to the walls. Arnold 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.
Ideals: Fighting, Optimist, Justice. Bonds: Attractive, Poor. Occupation: Interpreter
Voice: Uses lots of figures of speech
Attributes [hide]
Medium (5'1") Human, Lawful Good (CR 3)
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 27 (3d10)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
13 (+1) | 16 (+3) | 12 (+1) | 8 (-1) | 15 (+2) | 8 (-1) |
Senses Passive Perception 12
Languages Common
Attacks Melee +3 / 1d8+1, Ranged +5 / 1d8+3, Grapple +1
Possessions: 300 gp.
Bertram Harlow, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: He is an average looking northern male in his early mid-life. He is renowned for his bright tan suits and hats. His golden hair is heavily combed to the right. Judging by the bloodshot nature of his eyes and the massive bags underneath them one would imagine he has not slept for days.
Personality: He is quiet and reserved most of the time, but warms up to people very quickly. Around friends he is liable to tell dirty jokes and enjoy himself. He is harsh and unforgiving.
History: He got into the Bounty Hunter business at a young age. When he was little, his rather wealthy family often ventured across the island to a summer home near a old dungeon. He would wander through that old dungeon and adventure through it for days. One day while adventuring a terrible storm took place and he was stranded inside. His family spent the next few days looking for him, and could only assume he was dead when it came time to leave. The family never returned to the island due to the painful memories there. Bertram took refuge in the old dungeon and found the beat up hand crossbow and armor he uses now. He became a Bounty Hunter soon after.
Motivation: He is greedy; and further expansion of business
Ideals: Joker. Flaws: Insomniac, Antagonistic. Bonds: Job, Nature, Rich. Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Voice: pre-pubescent
Attributes [hide]
Medium (6'4") Human, Chaotic Good (CR 3)
Armor Class 11
Hit Points 28 (3d10)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
9 (-1) | 12 (+1) | 14 (+2) | 14 (+2) | 10 (+0) | 16 (+3) |
Senses Passive Perception 12
Languages Common, Gnome, Auran
Attacks Melee +1 / 1d8-1, Ranged +3 / 1d8+1, Grapple +2
Possessions: 400 gp.
Ralf Watson, Male Human [Permalink]
Personal [hide]
Description: He wears a grey shirt, with a white mid length shorts with white tights and flats, usually wearing a coat over them, and he perpetually has his scimitar ready. He has dyed his greying white hair a little too much giving a sharp white color. His eyes are likewise green.
Personality: He is always cheerful, even with a hangover, and is always willing to go through all sorts of trouble to help his friends. He considers everything a fun event and doesn't hold grudges. He is cautious and jumpy. He reacts to every sound and lacks any concept of subtlety.
History: He was born to loving parents in a slum to the north. In his formative years he discovered how persuasive he was. He began using that to his advantage selling useless wares at inflated prices. 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. Ralf fought at the side of some of the regions greatest heroes but was never overshadowed.
Motivation: He is wracked by social anxiety; and wants to have a good time and be beloved
Ideals: Fighting, Optimist, Entrepeneur. Flaws: Fearful. Bonds: Poor. Occupation: Barkeep
Voice: Speaks in third person
Attributes [hide]
Medium (5'1") Human, True Neutral (CR 3)
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 22 (3d10)
Speed 30 ft.
STR | DEX | CON | INT | WIS | CHA |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
7 (-2) | 16 (+3) | 10 (+0) | 10 (+0) | 15 (+2) | 12 (+1) |
Senses Passive Perception 12
Languages Common
Attacks Melee +0 / 1d8-2, Ranged +5 / 1d8+3, Grapple +3
Possessions: Just what you see.
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