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Almah Rovshki

Beatrix the Fallen's page

89 posts. Alias of Count Buggula.

Full Name





Fighter (Two-Handed) 1








Neutral Evil


Common, Infernal



Strength 18
Dexterity 14
Constitution 14
Intelligence 13
Wisdom 10
Charisma 12

About Beatrix the Fallen

A fair skinned woman of medium build in her mid twenties, Beatrix has a somber face with dark hair and darker eyes.

Con 12 (temp)

Init +2
AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16
hp 25 temp 9/22
Fort +6 5, Ref +3, Will +1
Speed 20 ft. (4 squares)
Base Atk +2; CMB +6 ; CMD 18
Greatsword +8 2d6+6 19–20/x2
Greatsword (Power Attack) +7 2d6+9 19-20/x2
Longbow +4 1d8 x3
Feats Armor Proficiency, Heavy, Armor Proficiency, Light ,Armor Proficiency, Medium, Cleave, Intimidating Prowess, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Toughness, Tower Shield Proficiency, Weapon Focus (Greatsword)
With Ranks:
Climb +6
Diplomacy +2
Handle Animal +5
Intimidate +10
Knowledge (Engineereing) +5
Perception +3
Profession (Soldier) +5
Ride +3
Survival +5
Swim +5
Acrobatics -1
Appraise +1
Bluff +1
Disguise +1
Escape Artist -1
Heal +0
Sense Motive +0
Stealth -1
Guard uniform, 50' silk rope, hooded lantern, masterwork backpack, masterwork breastplate, longbow, 19 arrows, masterwork greatsword, +1 Cloak of Resistance, potion of cure moderate wounds, oil of magic weapon.
423 GP
Armor Expert - You have worn armor as long as you can remember, either as part of your training to become a knight's squire or simply because you were seeking to emulate a hero. When you wear armor of any sort, reduce that suit's armor check penalty by 1, to a minimum check penalty of 0.
Deserter - You receive one bonus skill point per level that must be spent on the Profession (Soldier) skill. Profession (Soldier) is always a class skill for you.
Atk Options
Power Attack - You can choose to take a -1 penalty on all melee attack rolls and combat maneuver checks to gain a +2 bonus on all melee damage rolls. This bonus to damage is increased by half (+50%) if you are making an attack with a two-handed weapon, a one handed weapon using two hands, or a primary natural weapon that adds 1-1/2 times your Strength modifier on damage rolls. This bonus to damage is halved (-50%) if you are making an attack with an off-hand weapon or secondary natural weapon. You must choose to use this feat before making an attack roll, and its effects last until your next turn. The bonus damage does not apply to touch attacks or effects that do not deal hit point damage.
Cleave - As a standard action, you can make a single attack at your full base attack bonus against a foe within reach. If you hit, you deal damage normally and can make an additional attack (using your full base attack bonus) against a foe that is adjacent to the first and also within reach. You can only make one additional attack per round with this feat. When you use this feat, you take a -2 penalty to your Armor Class until your next turn.

Special Qualities
Shattering Strike (Ex)
    At 2nd level, a two-handed fighter gains a +1 bonus to CMB and CMD on sunder attempts and on damage rolls made against objects. These bonuses increase by +1 for every four levels beyond 2nd. This ability replaces bravery.


Beatrix was raised in the grasslands, a hearty daughter of farmers. Her brothers handled most of the work, and as she would be passed for any sizable inheritance, she left home to earn a living. At first it was simple guard jobs or escorting caravans, but she quickly found a place in the city guard before finally becoming a soldier.

Her platoon was sent to deal with a revolt in a small village, and upon arriving was ordered to burn the buildings and kill all inhabitants. Following orders, Bea and her companions slaughtered women and children as well as men who put up no resistance.

The guilt tore her apart. Rivers of blood tormented her dreams nightly, and she would be found furiously washing invisible blood from her hands. Unable to continue, she slipped out of camp one night and fled her company.

Suddenly this farm girl-turned-soldier found herself a fugitive from the law. She couldn't go home - they'd certainly find her there and put her to death for desertion. Without money, and without anywhere to go, she wandered the streets. She couldn't fall in among the beggars for fear of being recognized, but had to do something. After days of fruitlessly rummaging through refuse looking for food, the deep pangs of hunger gnawing at her stomach drove her to the warm smells of a bakery where fresh loaves were set out to cool. There they were, sitting within arms reach if she just reached out to grab one.

Before she knew what happened she was running down an alley with a hot loaf in her hands. After a few turns she was sure nobody was following her and sat down to feast. It was so easy! Why didn't I try this before? She reveled in her new found security, sure all her troubles were over. Unfortunately, it didn't last long - the bread and fruit migrated further from easy reach and it became riskier and riskier to steal.

Occasionally she'd spot an easy mark walking away with a baguette and just take it from them instead of risking the shopkeepers. At first she rationalized it, thinking she's not really hurting anyone and they could probably afford it anyways. After awhile it became almost a game. She'd laugh at the idiots who obviously didn't know anything about staying safe on the streets and carelessly flaunted their money and wares - then she'd take both. After all, someone needed to teach them a lesson about the dangers of life or they'd go on being taken advantage of. Really, she was doing them a favor. Sometimes they got hurt during the struggle, and there was more than one victim that never got up again after a strong blow, but she didn't care anymore. What was important was food. Survival. The memories of her slaughter as a soldier were buried one by one by fresh horrors every day until they were long forgotten, and uncared for.

Eventually, she had a run of bad luck. Most of the food vendors had moved their goods behind glass panes and day after day she couldn't find anyone to take it from. Hunger once again became her master, more than she had ever felt before. She stood for a long while staring at a loaf of bread, just as close as the first she ever took, with only a thin sheet of glass standing between them. Mesmerized by it and numbed by her hunger, she was oblivious to those around her and didn't consider the suspicion she was arousing.

The sound of shattering glass was quickly followed by a blow to the head, and she blacked out as her body slumped to the ground. By the time she came to, she was bound and laying on the cold hard floor of a prison cell, a piercing headache the only reminder of how she got there. Sitting up, she scoots her back to a wall and stares at the sliver of light, waiting.

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