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About Bojas 'Beau' GladhandBojas ‘Beau’ Gladhand
Speed 30 ft. Skill Feats
Skills
Languages: Common General Feats & Abilities
Ancestry Feats & Abilities
Rogue Feats
Class Features & Abilities
Bulk 4.1
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Bojas hails from the verdant Darkmoon Vale in Andoran. A lean and limber figure, Beau takes more after his Andoran mother than his Ulfen-Chelish father. He isn’t particularly tall, nor strong. Curly flaxen hair is the one thing that betrays his Gladhand heritage. Together with Beau’s sheepish smile and soft green eyes, it gives him a rather innocent appearance. Before reaching adulthood, his da signed up with the Lumber Consortium, only to be never seen again. He never really got to know his dad well, but from what little he saw, he didn’t miss much. All he ever did was tell Beau to go outside. Whether it was to gather some wood, chop it, and then neatly stack it so they wouldn’t grow cold in the weeks to come, or to run some errands or ‘waste some time with yer friends’, Beau didn’t exactly feel wanted by him. His mother, hard-pressed to seek means of supporting herself and her boy, took up a serving job at a local inn after his disappearance. Here, she eventually met a ticket out of the Darkmoon Vale, and left Bojan behind with enough coin to pay rent for about a year. At the age of 15, he was soon to be a man, and surely his dad would return soon, right? He never did return. Not that Bojas went looking for his da, mind you. As fate would have it, young Beau fell in with the wrong crowd. With no sense of fiscal responsibility nor the pressing need to generate an income, alcohol, partying, and gambling kept Beau busy and connected him with the seedy underbelly of the Darkmoon community. Here, he met the love of his life (for she was the first, and so far, only girl Beau ever fell in love with), Erin, and every single opportunity that came by that gave Beau a way out, Erin would be the one to drag him back in. After all, he had a place she could crash at, and he loved her, so it seemed only right. Theirs wasn’t a toxic relationship, but one born out of mutual dysfunctionality. With the Darkmoon Vale being a seedy place to begin with, no Andoran will be surprised when they hear what happened next to Beau. One of Beau’s friends had picked up some juicy gossip. A transport carrying adamantine axes and massive mithral sawblades would soon be coming through town. As luck would have it, the bulk of the caravan would be staying over at a friend’s cousin’s inn! Now, how hard could it be to get the guards drunk, displace some of the items stored in the locked boxes, and then sell them on the black market? They’d be swimming in silver! As it turns out, such a feat is hard to pull off when magic is involved. One alarm spell later, and Beau and two mates were caught, beaten, and subsequently jailed for four years. It is that his flame, Erin, came up with a lie about Beau’s mother passing away that Beau got out of jail before his time was up. He felt the need to run. Absalom, Cheliax, hell, even Isger would do! She felt the need to tell him he could stay. Surely they could gather enough coin to bribe the magistrate and convince him to keep Beau a free man? No, Erin. We f@*~ed with the wrong people, with the Consortium. By Asmodeus’ burning balls, I’m lucky enough they fell for your emotional plea to let me out to visit my mom in Augustana! Alas, she disagreed, and in a misguided attempt to convince him to stay, hooked up with an older (and richer!) local gentleman. Like any Gladhand would do in such a situation, Beau ran. But without coin and a need to avoid the Consortium, he dipped west, to Isger. After all, didn’t he have an uncle that lived there? Jaros? In a place called Breachill? His mom would often tell him stories about the vacations they had spent there when Beau was young. Unlike her, he couldn’t remember - he had been what, two or three? Maybe four? And her face turned sour whenever his uncle was mentioned, so he had learned to forget it. Upon arriving in Breachil, misfortune struck once more. Jaros, so it turned out, had left on an expedition some two years ago only to never return. The man’s house (a loft, really, with ample space for one person, but a far cry from what one might call an apartment, let alone a house) had been untouched since, and Beau could move in. After all, Jaros looked so much like him according to the locals, that there was no way they weren’t family. That, and some of them recalled Beau and his mom coming to town all those many years ago. In the weeks that followed, Beau tried to find a job ([i]use some of that Darkmoon lumber-know-how, boy! Talk to the Breach Creek Lumber peeps![i], the soup kitchen woman kept telling him) but he ended up selling the various exotic-looking knick-knacks that decorated his uncle’s loft, and spending the coin at the various taverns and inns of Breachill. The Pickled Ear is a little too rowdy for his liking, and the woman running Cayden’s Keg kept asking Beau about his uncle, something he truly doesn’t care for. Nowadays, some odd three weeks since arriving in Breachill, Beau is a regular at the Wizard’s Grace. Sure, Trinil too inquired about his relationship with his uncle, but wisely dropped the topic upon sensing Beau’s unease. An unease born out of the fact that why yes, everyone kept telling him he looked so much like Jaros! |