Giants Reign (Inactive)

Game Master Tall Tale Teller

LN Human Slayer

STR 16
DEX 14
CON 10
INT 14
WIS 12
CHA 12

HP: 30
AC: 15 (10+2Dex+2Armour+1Dodge)
Fort: +3, Ref: +5; Will +2

Attack: +6 Melee; +5 Ranged
Shortsword: +7 or +5/+5; 1d6+3dmg; 19-20crit;
Dagger: +6 or +4/+4; 1d4+3dmg; 19-20crit
Lt Xbow: +5; 1d8dmg; 19-20crt; 80ft.

Skills 6+2+1
Acrobatics +8 (3ranks +3class +2Dex)
Bluff +7 (3ranks +3class +1Cha)
Climb +8 (2ranks +3class +3Str)
Disguise +7 (3ranks +3class +1cha)
Intimidiate +6 (2ranks +3class +1cha)
Perception +7 (3ranks +3class +1Wis)
Sense Motive +7 (3ranks +3class +1Wis)
Stealth +8 (3ranks +3class +2Dex)
Survival +6 (+7 to track) (2rank +3class +1Wis)
Swim +7 (1ranks +3class +3Str)

Craft:Leather +8 (3ranks +3class +2Int)
Sleight of Hand +5 (3ranks +2Dex)

Feats and Abilities
Feat: 2-Weapon Fighting, attack with both weapons at reduced penalties (-2/-2 for light)
Feat: Weapon Focus (shortsword) +1 on attacks with shortswords
Feat: Dodge: +1 to AC

Talent: Ranger Combat Style 2WF: Double Slice: Add full Str bonus to attacks with off-

hand weapon

Studied Target: Study as move action. vs target gain +1 Bluff, Knowledge, Perception,

Sense Motive, Survival, weapon attacks, damage rolls, Slayer ability DC's.
Can study as free action when dealing sneak attack damage.

Track: +1/2 Slayer level to survival checks to track.

Sneak Attack: +1d6

Gear Request
2x shortswords
2x Daggers

Lt Xbow

Leather Armour

Background
Chel was raised in near seculusion by her mentors, a small group of three children trained in the arts of the quiet kill, deception and the quick escape. One of her sisters died in a training accident in her early teens, leaving Chel and Sian to train alone
About two years ago their mentors failed to turn up, thinking it another test Chel and Sian waited for three days before finally making their escape. Finding nothing but abandoned tunnels for miles Chel and Sian turned their skills to survival, hunting the dire rats and other vermin of the tunnels. Sian got sick and died before they even met another survivor, looking only to survival Chel harvested her body for food, not even realising most cultures would see this as a taboo.

Eventually after weeks on her own Chel discovered the Colony, dropping to one knee in subserviance she swore to them
"I give you my blade and my service, give me purpose" was her only statement.

Appearance
Chel is a lithe, wiry young girl, she has no idea how old she may be but she appears in her late teens.
Her dark hair is kept short, and simple cut. Her eyes are a bright green and she seems to care little for her own appearance most of the time, though if required for a mission she is capable of dressing for the occaision.

STR 14
DEX 16
CON 16
INT 12
WIS 12
CHA 11

HP: 39
AC: 13 (10+3Dex)
Fort: +6, Ref: +6; Will +2

Attack: Melee +5; Range +6
2 Claws +6 (1d4+2)

Skills 6+1
Climb +8
Perception +7
Stealth +13
Swim +8
Survival +7
Knowledge(Geography) +7
Spellcraft +7

Feats and Abilities
lvl 1 Feat: Favored Defence (Giant)
Fighting Style Feat:Aspect of the Beast (Claws of the Beast)
Lvl 3 Feat: Weapon Focus- Claws
Feat: Endurance (Gained as bonus due to three levels of ranger)

Favored Enemy- Giant
Fighting Style-Natural Weapon
Shifters Blessing 1/day 4 rounds
Track
Wild Empathy
Sneaky

Background

Tagolan was always alone. People shunned him for his Hobgoblin blood. The Colony never truly accepted him, he wasn't even supposed to be there. He, as a five year old Hobgoblin, had stumbled in before they sealed the entrance. He some how had survived small exposure to the fog, but no one ever trusted him. He grew up, exploring every bit of the Colony, surviving on rats and small bits of water from the well.

Still he did not fault them. While he could not truly remember much of his kind, he remembered one thing, their brutality. A scar ran down his face from just before he stumbled into the colony. His own mother had taken a knife to him, and he would never forget that though the other members of the Colony did not trust him, they healed him, and let him survive. They even let him claim a little domain of about twenty feet in a otherwise abandoned tunnel, which he used to train.

For the last five years, Tagolan has wanted to explore outside of the colony, and has studied almost every map he could find. He trained himself, reading old texts on Giants. He wishes to be of use to the colony, and to prove he is to be trusted. In his training he learned to Change his form, to a minor degree, and realized the potential of his claws. He does not know where this ability comes from, and has not told anyone about it, fearing being exiled completely, or being killed on the spot. He decided to save the ability, keep it secret, to show it off and prove himself.

When the colonists began talking about checking on the purple mist, Tagolan volunteered immediately, seeing it as a chance to prove himself.
Appearance

Standing at 5 feet, and weighing 205 pounds, he is a short, yet impressive figure. He is a sickly grey-green, not having seen the sun in fifteen years, and has fiery red eyes. other than his race, what distinguishes him the most is a large scar running from right below his left eye to the edge of his jaw on the left. He wears a simple brown shirt and pants, and has a small black cap to cover his bald head. His years of eating rats and drinking as little water as possible, has not diminished his health or weight, and if anything, seem to have made him as durable as he looks.

HP: 39
AC: 13 (10+3Dex)
Fort: +6, Ref: +6; Will +2

Attack: Melee +5; Range +6
2 Claws +6 (1d4+2)

Skills 6+1
Climb +8
Perception +7
Stealth +13
Swim +8
Survival +7
Knowledge(Geography) +7
Spellcraft +7

Feats and Abilities
lvl 1 Feat: Favored Defence (Giant)
Fighting Style Feat:Aspect of the Beast (Claws of the Beast)
Lvl 3 Feat: Weapon Focus- Claws
Feat: Endurance (Gained as bonus due to three levels of ranger)

Favored Enemy- Giant
Fighting Style-Natural Weapon
Shifters Blessing 1/day 4 rounds
Track
Wild Empathy
Sneaky

Gear request:
Leather armor
Flint and Steel
Water skin
20 feet of rope

Background

Tagolan was always alone. People shunned him for his Hobgoblin blood. The Colony never truly accepted him, he wasn't even supposed to be there. He, as a five year old Hobgoblin, had stumbled in before they sealed the entrance. He some how had survived small exposure to the fog, but no one ever trusted him. He grew up, exploring every bit of the Colony, surviving on rats and small bits of water from the well.

Still he did not fault them. While he could not truly remember much of his kind, he remembered one thing, their brutality. A scar ran down his face from just before he stumbled into the colony. His own mother had taken a knife to him, and he would never forget that though the other members of the Colony did not trust him, they healed him, and let him survive. They even let him claim a little domain of about twenty feet in a otherwise abandoned tunnel, which he used to train.

For the last five years, Tagolan has wanted to explore outside of the colony, and has studied almost every map he could find. He trained himself, reading old texts on Giants. He wishes to be of use to the colony, and to prove he is to be trusted. In his training he learned to Change his form, to a minor degree, and realized the potential of his claws. He does not know where this ability comes from, and has not told anyone about it, fearing being exiled completely, or being killed on the spot. He decided to save the ability, keep it secret, to show it off and prove himself.

When the colonists began talking about checking on the purple mist, Tagolan volunteered immediately, seeing it as a chance to prove himself.
Appearance

Standing at 5 feet, and weighing 205 pounds, he is a short, yet impressive figure. He is a sickly grey-green, not having seen the sun in fifteen years, and has fiery red eyes. other than his race, what distinguishes him the most is a large scar running from right below his left eye to the edge of his jaw on the left. He wears a simple brown shirt and pants, and has a small black cap to cover his bald head. His years of eating rats and drinking as little water as possible, has not diminished his health or weight, and if anything, seem to have made him as durable as he looks.

Background Skills 2
Appraise +7 (1 rank +3 class +3 Int)
Artistry: Literature +9 (3 ranks +3 class +3 Int)
Craft: Bows +9 (3 ransk +3 class +3 Int)
Linguistics +9 (3 ranks +3 class +3 Int)
Lore: Ancient Mesopotamia +9 (3 ranks +3 class +3 Int)

Brennus’ earliest memories were idyllic, but soon after his eighth birthday the purple cloud appeared on the horizon. His father bought the safety of his family with his life, defending the town in its last desperate hour, as they descended into the darkness below. Days after the fighting had stopped, Brennus’ grandfather, knowing well that the time to pass on the legacy of the Rassam was nigh, spoke of their family’s history and revealed the armor of their founding ancestor.

The boy, still mourning after his father, despondently inspected the tarnished bronze armor. He wasn’t impressed. Still, his grandfather taught him the histories, of writing and hunting. As the years passed, and the pain faded, Brennus bore the name of his family well, using that knowledge to teach and protect the other members of his underground community.

As material for armor grew sparse in the underground, Brennus recalled his family’s own armaments. His grandfather once again presented the armor, and as Brennus touched the moldering trim, the lamellar trembled. Then it flew above them, and in a burst of light the armor reflected the memories of all that had worn it. The memories shown about the cavern walls for only a moment, then retreated back into the armor, filling it, shaping into the likeness of a man. The specter looked down upon Brennus and his grandfather, its expression softened, and it smiled as its form wavered out into nothingness.

Yet, the armor still floated there. Brennus glanced over at his grandfather, but the old man only shrugged in disbelief. He held out his trembling hands, and the panoply floated down into his arms. When Brennus stepped out into the common area, among the remaining survivors, it was as if something was whispering just out of sight, a word that seemed a lot like hope.