Mwiba Kichaka's page

About Mwiba Kichaka

DEFENSE

AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16 (+5 armor; +1 shield)
hp 15
Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +0

OFFENSE

Speed: 15 ft with armor, 20 ft w/o
Melee: Longsword +6 (1d8+4/19-20
Ranged: Composite Longbow +3 (1d8+2/x3)

STATISTICS

Str: 18, Dex: 14, Con: 14, Int: 14, Wis: 10, Cha: 6
Base Atk: +1; CMB: +5; CMD: 17
Feats: Improved Initiative, Power Attack
Skills: Climb: +8; Knowledge(dungeoneering): +6; Knowledge(nature): +3 Survival: +6; Swim: +8
Languages: Terran, Common, Dwarven, Elvin

ABOUT
Back story (Sword Scion):
Mwiba Kichaka, Thorn, got his name from the catfolk village he was born and raised in. His parents were missionaries that found themselves in the hospitality of a rare group of gypsy catfolk that decided to settle in the Rostland Plains, just west of Restov, by the Shrike River. The catfolk named him Mwiba Kichaka, "thorn bush" in their tongue, because the village was alerted of his parents' presence for the first time by the sound of his mother's labor pains behind a thorn bush. The mother and father, a rock nymph and a dwarf, fell in love with the name and decided that would be the name of their child in honor of the catfolk's hospitality. As Thorn grew older, he began to be fascinated by the resident warriors, and stood in awe of any soldier that came passing through the village. Before long he knew that he wanted to be one of these armor-clad gods that towered over him. He spent 30 years of his life listening to tales of the Aldori Swordlords, and promised himself that he would one day become immortalized as an Aldori himself. He picked up his first sword at 35, and, having no one to teach him, practiced silently for many years. By the age of 60, most of the friends he knew were getting old or dying. An oread life is long, and often sad, when your preferred company has a lifespan far shorter than your own. He decided he had to get away from the sadness, and planned to become a soldier. While his dream of becoming an Aldori Swordlord was still very alive in his heart, he knew that he was not nearly ready. As a result, the young oread went to seek his fame as a soldier in the Dwarven Clan Wars. Although he spent nearly 30 years in the army, much of that time was training, since he had trained badly for many years, and when he got the chance to fight it was on the back lines and he never truly became prolific at swordcraft. He was, however, on a considerably better path to improvement then he was before the war. He returned to his village, full of fire and talk. He was a fully-pledged Goremite at this time, and an overbearing presence. He was 87 when he returned, this adventurous young soul would not leave for over a decade. Everyone he knew growing up, including his parents, was dead by this time, and the ones he knew as children were now old, with families. He had no friends, and the fire within him quickly dimmed as the years wore on. He began to drink, and grow even more introverted. Every day he would sit on a thick limb out by the river with a wineskin, alone with his thoughts. After 13 years, this one activity became his very existence. He decided to align himself with Gozreh, the goddess of nature, as he no longer felt a connection to the war god. Rather, he thought of Gorem and Cayden Cailean as old friends. Finally, 13 years after returning home, he was recruited for an expedition into the Stolen Lands. At first he was hesitant, but the more he thought about it, about his years wasting away, about how he was still in the prime of his life, about his dream of the Aldori Swordlords, he was filled with more ambition than he would have ever admitted. He packed his things, donned his armor and longsword, and embarked on his journey.