About Boshak HeuskauritCombat Stats:
Dwarven Waraxe +2 (1d10+1 - x3) (+1 damage when 2hand)
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Ability Scores:
15 point buy Str: 12 Dex: 10 Con: 17 (+2 racial) Int: 13 Wis: 15 (+2 racial) Cha: 12 (-2 racial) Racial Abilities:
Defense Training Hardy Stability Lorekeeper: Dwarves keep extensive records about their history and the world around them. Dwarves with this racial trait receive a +2 racial bonus on Knowledge (history) checks that pertain to dwarves or their enemies. They can make such skill checks untrained. This racial trait replaces greed. Stonecunning
Class Abilities:
Bardic Knowledge Bardic Performance: 5 rounds
Cantrips Spells:
0 level spells known: 4
1st level spells known: 2
Feats:
Breadth of Experience (APG p. 151) Traits:
Battlefield Caster (Worship Torag): Your faith protects you even as you unleash spells in the thick of battle. Benefit: You receive a +1 trait bonus on concentration checks to cast defensively and a +1 trait bonus to AC against attacks provoked by or readied against spellcasting. (Dwarves of Golarion p. 10) Warrior Poet (Lands of the Linnorm Kings): You were trained by the skalds, keepers of the oral tradition of Kalsgard.
Favored Class Bonus:
Reduce arcane spell failure chance for casting bard spells when wearing medium armor by +1%. Once the total reaches 10%, the bard also receives Medium Armor Proficiency, if he does not already possess it. Total: 1% Skills:
Skill Points: 7 = 6 base + 1 int Diplomacy: 5 = 1 cha + 1 rank + 3 class
Knowledge Skills:
Arcana: 4
Equipment:
105 gp start Dwarven Waraxe (30 gp, 8 lbs) Leather Armor (10 gp, 15 lbs) 3 daggers (6 gp, 3 lbs) Thieves Tools (30 gp, 1 lb) Pathfinders Kit (12 gp, 22 lbs) -This kit consists of a backpack, a bedroll, a belt pouch, a clay mug, a dagger, 2 fishhooks, flint and steel, a sewing needle, a signal whistle, 50 feet of string, 50 feet of thread, a waterskin, a week's worth of trail rations, and a whetstone. Current Money: 17 gp Current Weight: 49 lbs
Background:
Far over the Sky Citadels Cold,
Boshak Heuskaurit looks up from the book he was reading, The Sky Citadels: An Esoteric Study. He blinks a few times, trying to readjust his eyes to normal life. The view of the deep library was initially breathtaking, with its towering bookcases seeming to go on for miles, but after having spent many nights sleeping in the library over the past few years, some of its wonder was gone. He gently closes the book, but that doesn’t stop a cloud of dust from taking light into the air. Boshak sneezes; he sometimes wishes the wonders of dust would disappear too. He closes his eyes, resting his hands on his temples, rubbing gently, trying to remove the oncoming headache that meant he had been reading too much. As he unfocuses from the present, his mind wanders to the past. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
Boshak always had a difficult time separating his life from the lives of so many he had read. Since he started learning under the Skalds of Kalsgard he must have read hundreds of books, and memorized hundreds of ballads, odes, and epics of different people. It was all worth it, as this was his dream since the first time he had heard the Ballad of the Sky Citadels. Just sometimes he wished it was a little less… tedious. He thought coming here to Kalsgard would be just like all those songs and stories, glorious and exciting. Instead, it was just like anything else, hard work and sacrifice. He wasn’t going to give up though, if dwarves can be anything, they can be stubborn, and Boshak was no exception. For ancient king and elvish lord
His mind heads farther into the past. Flashes of young life flit through his head. His father working at the forge. His mother working in the mushroom farms. The first time his older brother took up his father’s hammer. Him caring more about the one book they had than his families work. He never was partial to smithing. Oh he could do it to a degree, as any dwarf could, but he never felt it was his calling. He remembers at the wee age of 12, hearing the first bard, Gimjun, come to the underground village of Karaz. The grand stories he told wove images into his mind of battles, intrigue, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles. It was all so magical. He decided that day, to someday spread the tales of his people, so that children everywhere can experience the same joy and wonder he felt that day. On silver necklaces they strung
Well the journey is never easy, as some tales make it. His was no different. Needless to say his parents didn’t approve of his career choice. Oh they had a lot of respect for the bards, as history is important. Yet the calling of the Heuskaurit clan was not to sing, but to work. Songs can’t hold off orcish hordes, but steel can. It wasn’t until Boshak’s gladdringgardam (Rite of Passage), when he went and found the gladdringgar of Gimjun, did he finally achieve acceptance for his dream. Thus at 25 years old, he finally was able to begin his journey to become a bard. Far over the Sky Citadels cold,
Yet tragedy struck. An explosion at the forge killed his father, a century before his time. His elder brother had to take up the call to smithing, and Boshak had to help, to keep the family going. Then the mushroom farm that his mother worked on was wiped out by a rout of flail snails. The forge was suddenly the only thing keeping the family afloat. Boshak had no time for books or songs, it was constant work, between hammer and rock. Boshak still was not a gifted smith, and so when his younger brother was old enough to take up the hammer, Boshak moved onto other things. He worked at other mushroom farms, working directly with the earth. He spent some time at the local brewery, making ale and beer. He went all around Karaz, trying to earn money, but it wasn’t enough. The best thing he could do was head off, and send back whatever money he could earn. Goblets they carved there for themselves,
He won’t deny he was tempted to run off to Kalsgard, the place where all aspiring dwarf bards want to be, to be tutored under the great Skalds themselves. However, that required money, and he would never abandon his family. He knew the best place for him to go would be to a big town, and he ended up in Janderhoff, as big of a town as he could get. As luck would have it, the dwarves were planning a big raid on orcish lands in the coming year, and so forges were at full fire, and the clanging of hammers were ringing through the Citadel. He signed up for things other than smithing; bowmaking, alchemy, siege building, anything he could get his hands on. He learned about a lot of different professions over the course of the year, and by Torag’s blessing, he earned a lot of money. He sent as much home as he could spare, leaving himself just enough to live. The pines were roaring on the heights,
The Campaign was a great success. On the night of their return there was celebration throughout all of Janderhoff. Many stories were told of the great victory, and Boshak wrote them all down. This is what he had dreamed of, hearing stories from people who had actually lived it, tales that had just happened. This was every bards dream. He worked long and hard, he put together his first ballad from what he had heard. The following week, he tried to perform in his favorite tavern, Tully’s. That is where he learned a few things. One, everyone was sick of hearing the stories. Two, he had no voice for singing. He was laughed out of the tavern; he would have preferred them to throw things, it would have been less humiliating. In defeat, Boshak returned to his room and promptly burned his “ballad”, knowing he would never be a bard. The bells were ringing in the dale,
As if things couldn’t get worse, he was no longer able to find jobs. Now that the campaign was over, the forges were turned down, and no one needed an apprentice. Then the icing on the disgusting cake was that he was robbed of the last of his money as he was out job searching. He had no money for food or a place to stay. He went to Tully’s. As he walked in, people saw him and laughed at the “Tone Deaf Dwarf”. This was no longer his favorite tavern, but he had a good companionship with Magmar, and he asked for a job in return for room and board. Magmar agreed, seeing that Boshak was running on hard times. The mountain smoked beneath the moon.
He worked there for quite a while, but he wasn’t earning anything to send home. He became depressed, doing his work, eating his food, and just lying in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking of home. About a year later, the anniversary of the Great Campaign came. A great celebration was planned, and rumor had it one of the Skalds was coming to perform. Boshak was less than excited, because it brought back memories of failure, and he was in no way going to participate in the ceremonies. Magmar though was worried about his friend. He tried every effort to get Boshak to go, hoping it would cheer him up, but Boshak was dead set against it. So Magmar tried a different tactic and contacted the skald. Boshak remembers this part clearly, every detail is ingrained in his head. Far over the Sky Citadels grim,
A knock came at Boshak’s door. He opened it, and he could not believe his eyes. It was Gimjun, the bard who had inspired him in the first place, here at his door. “You are the great skald that came to sing today?” Boshak says flabbergasted. Gimjun smiles and replies, “That I am Boshak. That I am.” Boshak takes a few staggering steps back to his bed and thunks down onto it. Gimjun looks a bit into the room and asks “May I come in?” Boshak is in a bit of a daze and doesn’t reply to Gimjun, so Gimjun takes it upon himself to walk in. He closes the door behind him, and with a flourish pulls the single chair in the room to sit across from Boshak. “Boshak my boy,” Gimjun addresses him, “I have heard of your struggle. I also have heard how you found my gladdringgar. I have been impressed with everything I have heard. Except for this last year. What are you doing sweeping and serving in a tavern when you should be out making your life?” Boshak blinks a few times, still in shock, until he realizes he was asked a question. He shakes his head, and tries to get over his awe. “I couldn’t find anything else to do.” He responds weakly. He knows that is not an excuse, he hadn’t even been looking most of this last year. He had just resigned himself to his fate. “Now that is a biggest bunch of snail dung if I’ve ever heard any.” Gimjun’s remark stings Boshak. “I was here, last year when you sang your ballad.” Boshak’s eyes go wide. He was there? How could he have missed him? He must have been too caught up in his own shame. “You showed great promise.” At that, Boshak snorts. “Promise?” He says. “Promise? The whole tavern laughed at me!” He yells, as tears fill up his eyes. Gimjun gently smiles. “They certainly did. Let me tell you something my boy. When I became a bard, as it were, it was an entire year before I could even perform in a tavern. It was another year after that before I even earned any money for my performances. It took me ten years before I could become an apprentice to a Skald, and another 20 years before I even became the lowliest of Skalds myself. 32 years to achieve my dream after I started, and decades before that when I was just wishing, and you give up after how long? After one performance? Ha!” Gimjun shakes his head at Boshak’s silliness. Boshak’s mind is swirling. 32 years? It took this great skald 32 years, this man he had looked up to since his youth. He was right. He was completely right. He had been a fool. Throwing his life away because of one performance. He lets out a bark of a laugh at his own foolishness. Gimjun’s smile broadens, as he realizes he is getting through to him. “What should I do Gimjun? I’m not sure where to begin.” Boshak asks. “Well…” Gimjun ponders for a moment. “You do have talent. That ballad you wrought was finely crafted. The problem is you have no singing voice.” Upon seeing Boshak’s disheartened face he says. “But fear not! There are other ways to perform, ones that don’t require singing. It falls more under poetry. You are familiar with the Ballad of the Sky Citadel right?” “Of course!” Boshak is almost insulted at the question. “Alright alright, calm down young one. Did you know that Ballad originally wasn’t a ballad.” Boshak gets a quizzical expression on his face because he didn’t know. Gimjun continues, “That’s right. That ballad had been around for a hundred years before any music was put to it. It was originally what we call an ode. Now, I think if you focused more on that type of thing, you could do great. I’d just leave the singing for your marriage.” Boshak smiles at his joke. An ode eh? He had thought bards only performed with music and singing. This shows how little he knows. “Gimjun, I understand know. I have much to learn. How shall I learn it all?” “Boshak my boy, come with me. Come with me to Kalsgard and be my apprentice.” If a dwarf was ever surprised, Boshak was now. His mouth dropped open at the request. He promptly shut it. He was ready to say yes right away, but then thoughts of his family came into his head. Even though he had essentially abandoned them this last year, he couldn’t take this offer without first making sure his family was alright. As he opened his mouth to ask, Gimjun cut him off. “I know exactly what you are going to say. I actually passed through Karaz not to long ago. That is part of my reason for being here actually. I wanted to check on you, you who had found my gladdringgar. However you weren’t there, but I was able to talk to your family. Your brothers have actually been quite successful as smiths, and I actually bought a new sword from them. Your mother has started her own mushroom farm, after going out and destroying that rout of flail snails that had destroyed the previous farm. She is actually a hero in your village now. There only worry was you, for they hadn’t received any word from you in some time. They asked me to find you, and tell you that now that they are doing well, you can go and live whatever dream you want to. They don’t need your money anymore.” Boshak’s mouth had dropped open again, and a tear ran down his face into his beard. “I…” Boshak pauses in hesitation. “I… will be your apprentice then.” “Great!” Gimjun stands up, a big smile on his face. “Prepare yourself. We leave tomorrow for Kalsgard, and you begin your work to become the next Skald.” It was five years between when he left his family and when he became apprenticed to Gimjun. 10 years apprenticed to Gimjun before he passed away of old age, Torag rest his soul. 10 years apprenticed to another skald, but he never appreciated Boshak’s work and so Boshak didn’t have much to do other than be a servant to him. After he was dismissed from “service”, Boshak wandered the world for 20 years, not wanting to go back to the skalds after being left with such an awful after taste. He learned many things on his travels, gaining lots of knowledge. He started to become well known for the epic tales he could spin, for even though he didn’t sing, there is a skill needed to tell tales. Slight inflections in the voice, a raise in volume here, a drop in volume there, is what sets apart a bard from the rest. He was hired on as a bard for High King Borogrim the Hale, however he was only allowed to cater to the lesser lords, for he was not an official Skald. This frustrated him, and so after some years he finally came back here, to Kalsgard to finish his work. With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Boshak opens his eyes, still in the library. He must have dozed off a bit for his face was lying on the book in front of him. Peeling his face from the book he gets up and stretches. He puts the book back into the bookshelf, and retires for the night, for it was going to be another long day of reading tomorrow. He was at this point in his training where research was what was needed. Read all the great stories, the work bards had done before. Read them so that he can learn the different techniques that go into creating such great works of art. He had found a new skald to apprentice under, a bookish bard, who almost seemed more a wizard than a bard. Boshak does have a great appreciation for books; he just wishes that he could get out and use this knowledge. His answer came the next day. Boshak was back in the library, hard at work reading, five books layed out in front of him as he compared different versions of the same story. His Mentor, Roshgar walks slowly into the libarary. He is an old dwarf, with a long gray beard that nearly dragged on the floor. He shuffled up behind Boshak and stood there for a while, Boshak not noticing him, engrossed into his work as he was. Roshgar gave a slight cough, and Boshak jumped in his seat and turned around. “I am sorry sir, I didn’t hear you approach.” Boshak apologizes. “It is quite alright son. A letter came for you.” Roshgar produces a letter from a pocket in his robe and hands it to Boshak. “What is this?” Boshak asks. “I just sent the letter to my family yesterday, they couldn’t have replied aready.” Curious, Boshak unfolds the letter. “Oh! It is from my friend Magmar. He’s the one who helped me in Janderhoff.” He remarks the last to Roshgar, in case he had forgotten. Roshgar nods in understanding, and Boshak reads the letter, his eyes growing wider as he reads. Dear Boshak,
“He’s asking me back?” Boshak says flabbergasted. “Go my son.” Roshgar says gently. “This is what you want to do. Go.” “Go?” Boshak asks. “But what about my work here, to become a skald?” Roshgar sits down beside Boshak and looks at him. “Boshak. You have done a great many things with your life. You’ve been all around the world. In truth, your training to become a skald is nearly complete. What you are missing though, what sets a skald apart from the rest, is adventure. You need to go out, experience your own story, and write an ode about yourself. Then, you will be ready to become a skald. Plus, no true skald would ever turn down a chance to experience an adventure first hand. That is how legends are born.” Boshak nods. “You are right, of course. You are always right. I will go then, and when I return, I hope I can finally achieve my dream and become a skald.” Boshak and Roshgar stand up, and Boshak gives his mentor a hug. “Thank you for all your help. You remind me of old Gimjun himself.” Roshgar smiles. “I was about to say the same about you. Go, and live your dream.” Boshak headed out to Janderhoff the next day, back to old Tully’s. He’s been on this path a long time, 76 years, and now he is finally going see the end of it. We must away! We must away!
Appearance:
Personality:
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Ballad of the Sky Citadels:
Far over the Sky Citadels cold,
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
For ancient king and elvish lord
On silver necklaces they strung
Far over the Sky Citadels cold,
Goblets they carved there for themselves,
The pines were roaring on the heights,
The bells were ringing in the dale,
The mountain smoked beneath the moon.
Far over the Sky Citadels grim,
With foes ahead, behind us dread,
We must away! We must away!
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