Shortbow Strike: +7
Hit Points: 17
Hit Points: 6
Speed: 25 feet
Ability Boosts: Dexterity, Wisdom, Free (Intelligence)
Languages: Common, Halfling
Additional languages equal to your Intelligence modifier (if it’s positive). Choose from Dwarven, Elven, Gnomish, Goblin and any other languages to which you have access (such as the languages prevalent in your region). Elven, Infernal (prevalent in Cheliax)
Heritage: Twilight Halfling: You gain low-light vision.
Ancestry Feat: Halfling Lore: You gain the trained proficiency rank in Acrobatics and Stealth. If you would automatically become trained in one of those skills (from your background or class, for example), you instead become trained in a skill of your choice. You also become trained in Halfling Lore.
Choose two ability boosts. One must be to Dexterity or Charisma, and one is a free ability boost. (Dex, Cha)
You're trained in the Stealth skill and the Kintargo Lore skill. You gain the Terrain Stalker skill feat.
The first time you hit your hunted prey in a round, you also deal 1d8 additional precision damage. (Precision damage increases the damage you already deal, using the same type, but is ineffective against creatures that lack vital organs or weak points.)
Expert in Perception
Expert in Fortitude
Trained in Nature
Trained in simple weapons
Trained in light armor
Trained in ranger class DC
Hunt Prey (Action)
Hunted Shot (Level 1): Make two Strikes against your prey with the required weapon. If both hit the same creature, combine their damage for the purpose of resistances and weaknesses. Apply your multiple attack penalty to each Strike normally.
Terrain Stalker - Underbrush (Background): Select one type of difficult terrain from the following list: rubble, snow, or underbrush. While undetected by all non-allies in that type of terrain, you can Sneak without attempting a Stealth check as long as you move no more than 5 feet and do not move within 10 feet of an enemy at any point during your movement. This also allows you to automatically approach creatures to within 15 feet while Avoiding Notice during exploration as long as they aren’t actively Searching or on guard.
+2 Arcana (Int)
+7 Acrobatics (Dex)
Adventurer's Pack: 7sp 1
-Backpack: 1sp -
-Bedroll: 1cp L
-Belt pouch (2): 8cp -
-Chalk (10): 1sp -
-Flint and steel: 5cp -
-Rope (50 feet): 5sp L
-Rations (14): 8sp L
-Soap: 2cp -
-Torch (5): 5cp L
-Waterskin: 5cp L
Arrows (40): 4sp L
Remaining gold: 2gp, 4sp, 8cp
Memory - Freedom:
”By the decree of our new Lord-Mayor, Jilia Bainilus, slavery is herey abolished in Kintargo.” Urora Sarini looked like she had swallowed a lemon. ”Therefore...” The sour look intensified. ”Therefore, you will all be…entitled, to wages from this day forth. In exchange for continuing to work for me, you will be paid three silver pieces a week.”
Aronida looked around at the other newly-freed slaves, who all seemed as confused as she was. To be free...Aronida had dreamed of it, but in the same way a child might dream of getting a pony. She had never expected it to actually happen.
”Three silver a week?!” Jak was pushing his way through the other slaves, no, servants, they were servants now. Jak was one of the very few slav…servants the Sarinis owned that hadn’t been born into the status. ”You take our freedom from us, you beat us when we try to escape, you insist that we are things to be owned, and then you offer us three silver a week?” He’d made his way to the staircase now, a few steps below where Urora and her bodyguard were standing. ”Here’s what I think of your damn silver.” He spat on the staircase.
Urora sneered down at him. ”You are, of course, free to leave. To starve on the streets with all the other freed slaves. Or you can stay here, and have food, a bed, and a fair wage. It’s up to you.” From the murmuring Aronida could hear, many of them were planning on taking the offer. What else could they do?
It’s up to me…
Jak spat on the staircase again, then turned and started marching out the front door with a few others. Aronida hesitated, then scrambled to join them. ”Jak, wait for me!”
Memory - Rest:
The small house was in sight, and Aronida could feel her crop growing impatient. Nervous shifting. Sidelong glances. They’d been out in the wilderness for five days now, eating only what rations Aronida had in her backpack and what food she could safely hunt, and all of them were eager for the relative safety of the barn.
That made it all the more important to be careful.
Aronida took her time observing the surrounding area. She’d been working this row for two years now; she knew every bush and tree. Was anything out of place? Any shadows that shouldn’t be there? Any hints of movement in the darkness?
She sat for nearly an hour in complete silence before she finally gestured her crop forward. They snuck across the field, low to the ground and quiet, then around the back of the house. The shed was unlocked, as was expected. She went in, carefully ensuring her crop followed her inside, then waited again. Thirty minutes later, finally convinced they hadn’t been followed, she opened the secret trap door and ushered them down the ladder into the cellar.
Malco was there, also as expected. She felt some of her crop flinching from the man, even though they’d been told to expect him. Few halflings in Cheliax could afford to trust humans. Demonstrating her own trust, she stepped forward to greet him with a smile. ”Father Pictor, it’s good to see you again.” See? I know him. I trust him. You’re safe here.
Malco smiled back at her. ”How many times have I told you, it’s Malco. Calling me Father makes me feel old. Besides, I’m a priest of the Drunken God. I don’t need titles. Just ale!” He laughed. ”Speaking of which, I’ve set out a small meal for you all.” He gestured behind him, where there was a halfling-sized table with some bread, cheese, cold meats, and a bottle of wine.
”Thank you...Malco.” She winked at him and sat down, reaching for the cheese. Her crop exchanged a few more nervous glances, then tentatively sat down as well. A few minutes later they were wolfing down the food, and the braver ones had poured themselves glasses of wine. Aronida smiled again as they all started to relax. Once the food was devoured, Malco showed them the cots set up in the back. Most were asleep within minutes.
Good. Aronida was particularly proud of the banter, a routine she and Malco had come up with about a year ago. It helped the crops relax enough to eat and sleep, even in the presence of a strange human. That was important. It would be a few days before another tiller came along to guide them through the next row; if they didn’t trust Malco they’d be too tense to fully regain their strength.
Once everyone was asleep, Malco glanced at her and inclined his head towards the stairs which led up to the house. (All the barns had at least two exits. Safer that way.) She nodded and followed him up to the small kitchen. The curtains over the windows were closed, and as long as she avoided passing between them and the light it shouldn’t be too much of a risk.
He made them both a cup of tea and sat down at the (human-sized) table. ”I thought there’d be more.”
”There were.” She winced. ”Two nights ago there was a Hellknight patrol. We were well-hidden, but as the knights kept getting closer...it’s hard to keep people from panicking. Two of them bolted. I don’t think the Hellknights saw them, they didn’t react, but by the time I felt it was safe to move…” She shook her head and stared into her tea as if it had all the answers. ”I followed their tracks as best as I could, but in the dark, with them running and me not? I couldn’t catch up. Eventually I had to either give up or keep going knowing I was risking everyone’s safety. So...I gave up.”
Malco bit his lip. ”Maybe they’ll make it.”
”Maybe. Or maybe they’ll run into another patrol, or a bear, or just freeze to death because they don’t know where to find shelter.” She sighed. ”I hate losing people.”
”I know.” He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. ”You wouldn’t be doing this work if you didn’t care.”
”It would be easier if I didn’t.” She folded her arms and dropped her head to rest on the table. ”I’m tired Malco. So very tired.” She wasn’t talking about physical exhaustion, and they both knew it.
It happened to all of them sooner or later.
”Maybe it’s time to get some rest.”
Aronida closed her eyes. ”Maybe.”
Memory - Home:
Aronida had never had one. She’d lived in the Sarini mansion for almost her entire life, but it had certainly never been home. After being freed she’d been too nervous to stay in one place for long. When she wasn’t working the rows she’d wandered from town to town, selling furs to buy the few supplies she needed. Never staying though. Not even in an inn. The only times she slept in a bed were when she’d finished escorting her latest crop to a barn that had an extra.
(”You can’t keep doing this,” Malco had told her. ”You’re killing yourself. You need to rest, really rest, somewhere away from all this.” He’d knelt down to her level, hands on her shoulders, eyes full of concern. ”Look, have you ever heard of Breachill?”)
Breachill wasn’t what she’d expected. Small towns tended to be insular, as distrusting of outsiders as she was of, well, almost everyone. She’d walked up to Cayden’s Keg half-expecting to be thrown out on her ear. Instead Brynne had quickly skimmed the letter of introduction Malco had given her and promptly offered to let her stay as long as she liked.
(”How is that old rascal anyway? Still living on that farm in the middle of nowhere?” Brynne had laughed. ”Any friend of Malco’s is a friend of mine. Come on, I’ve got a spare room upstairs.”)
It wasn’t just Brynne either. Nearly everyone was friendly, or at least polite. When she stuck around, hunting for game out in the forests or offering her services as an archer during the monthly Call for Heroes, people quickly accepted her as another member of the community. She slowly started to relax. To feel safe.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt safe.
Now here she was, staring at a wooden door as though it was going to bite her. Tentatively, she reached out and opened it.
A small, cosy common room. A fireplace with a comfortable halfling-sized chair in front of it. A kitchen with counters she could reach without a step stool. A bedroom with a mattress exactly the way she liked it.
”Told you I could get you some nice furniture for cheap. Crink would never let on, but he’s an old softy at heart. What do you think?”
”I think…” Aronida smiled even as she blinked away a few tears. ”I think it looks like home.”
Aronida, (she has no idea what her last name might have been), was born into slavery in Kintargo, serving the Sarini family. Upon being freed she was left unsure of what to do with her new life. Any time she stepped foot in a city she always felt like she was about to be captured and sold again. At the same time she wanted to free others as she had been freed. The compromise was to work for the Bellflower Network as a tiller, escorting escapees through the wilderness.
After several years of this, she began to feel homesick for a home she'd never had. She still distrusted cities, but didn't want to spend her whole life in the wilderness either. A contact from the Bellflower Network suggested Breachill. As a small town that welcomed adventurers of any background, she could surely find work there, and maybe, just maybe, she could make it her home.