About Culver CobbletossThe Character Sheet:
Character Name: Culver Cobbletoss Ancestry: Halfling Character Class: Rogue Alignment: Neutral Good Gender: Male
Character Level: 1
Known Languages: Common, Halfling ------------------------------------------------------- Strength: 12 (+1)*
(Rolled Stats: 11,14,11,17,16,12) ------------------------------------------------------- Armor Class: 18 (10 + 4 Dex + 1 Race + 3 Armor) Flatfooted AC: 14
AC Penalty: -1
------------------------------------------------------- Hit Points: 9 (1d8 +1 Favored Class) ------------------------------------------------------- Base Speed: 30'/round
------------------------------------------------------- Save vs. Fortitude: + 4 (+3 Con + 1 Halfling Luck)
------------------------------------------------------- Initiative Modifier: +6 (+4 Dex + 2 Trait )
------------------------------------------------------- Weapons: (+1 size bonus on all attacks) Morningstar (S) +2 melee / 1d6 dmg / x2 critical Dagger (S) +2 melee or +6 ranged / 1d3 dmg / 19-20 [x2] critical / 10' range Sling (S) / + 6 ranged / 1d3 dmg / [x2] critical / 50 range / blunt damage
Weapon weight: 15 lb. ------------------------------------------------------- Skills:
Acrobatics: +8 (+1 rank + 3 class + 4 Dex)
—---------------------------------------------------- Ancestry: Halfling +2 Dex, +2 Chr, -2 Str Small Creature:
Fearless:
Fleet of Foot:
Halfling Luck:
Keen Senses:
Weapon Familiarity:
Languages:
------------------------------------------------------- Traits: 2 Reactionary (Combat)
Successful Shirker (Social)
Feats: Point Blank Shot:
------------------------------------------------------- Rogue Class Abilities: Sneak Attack:
Trap Finding:
------------------------------------------------------- Equipment & Gear Traveler's Outfit (0 lb.)
*Morningstar (small) 8 gp, 3 lb, 1d6
Backpack 2 gp, 2 lb
Weight of Equipment: 45.5 lb
------------------------------------------------------- HP 9/9 | AC 18, T 15, FF 14 | CMD 14 | F +4, R +7, W +1 | Init +6 Perc +6
The Background:
Character Background: Culver Cobbletoss comes from humble beginnings, born the son of a gnome priest of Nethys and a rather talented halfling herbalist with a penchant for applying her arts to cooking. …or so he says. But then, Culver says a lot of things, many of them fanciful and untrue. More likely than not, his father was a traditional halfling, perhaps a mercenary or a wandering bard, but in any event, Culver’s not saying, even if he knows. What is known is that several years ago he and his mother showed up in Kassen on the doorstep of the Seven Silvers, where his mother Aelna took a job as a cook and cleaning woman. The two have rented a room there ever since. Culver may or may not actually be the nephew of Jimes “Short Change” Iggins, a notable employee at the inn, the young rogue calls him “Uncle” and has been mentored by him for some time. Though, to be fair, the clever and charismatic Culver also spends time around Jocyn, the local bard. At one point, the halfling had even considered training to be a bard himself, but proved less than adept at the arcane side of the profession.
Player Interview:
Player Interview 1. What time zone are you in? EST. Detroit, Metro Area. 2. How long have you been playing TTRPGs?
3. What’s your favorite part about playing TTRPGs”
4. What do you expect from this game?
5. What do you expect out of your fellow players?
6. What do you expect out of me?
7. Beyond the obvious (generally stuff already prohibited by Paizo's forum rules,) what are your redlines? Are there any topics, themes, or imagery that you absolutely do not want to see in the game?
Character Interview::
What is your character’s name?[/b]
Scene Showcase:
Moment of Glory… (This was from a character I didn't actually get to play in a Greyhawk setting, but wrote up this short origin story for him. He's an aspiring Paladin named Athald Urthadar. One of these days I'll get around to playing him in a game...) Character History: The act itself was not well thought out...simply acted upon. One moment Athald, a young assistant to Ulfgar the blacksmith, was hard at work repairing some old horseshoes for morning, and the next...he was standing in the street, defending a fallen knight. Not that it was that simple. Nothing ever is. The town was unofficially known as Nowhen, an out of the way haven just north of Critwall. Athald had grown up there, strong and good looking, well liked by most of the townsfolk. Had it been happier times in the Shield Lands, then he probably would have married a beautiful girl and had many happy children. Unfortunately, these were dark days indeed, as the hand of Iuz the Evil was still being felt everywhere in the kingdom. Cities had fallen to the Dark One in the last war, and even mighty Critwall had only barely been held by the forces of good. In Nowhen, a small tavern based village, mercenaries wandered the streets as did the common folk. In general, so long as one did no harm and drew no weapons, the townsfolk would keep to themselves and sell their wares. It was indeed, dark times. On the day in question, a Paladin had ridden into town, his shield and crest proudly proclaiming him a Knight of Holy Shielding. Most of the villagers were gladdened and uplifted upon hearing that the swordsman had come, the very thought of a warrior of virtue amongst them raising their spirits. He'd not even made his way to the tavern however, when vile treachery struck. Passing the smithy, Athald had impulsively offered a welcoming wave, and it had been returned by the Knight...just before a crossbow bolt had been fired from out of view, piercing the swordsman through the neck. Time seemed to stop...and then the paladin was teetering and then falling heavily from his mount. A rough cheer from uncultured men rang out, and several bounty hunters came out from their hiding places around some of the buildings. Athald would later learn that there had been a bounty of 500 gold lions placed on the knight's head by a corrupt Baron from the south, and that these crude men planned to collect it. Stunned, Athald moved without even thinking. Afterwards, he would not be able to say exactly why he did what he did, except to say that it felt right. In any event, what the apprentice did, surprised everyone. Athald rushed out to the middle of the street, bypassing two of the six mercenaries, wielding only his hammer in one hand and an old, dirty horseshoe in the other. The apprentice smith could see that the knight was still alive, if just barely, but bleeding profusely. Kneeling down, he put a hand on the the paladin's shoulder, "Sir...Sir, you must get up...they're here to kill you if they can." "We will kill him, boy. Get out of the way, and save yourself some trouble." Came the gruff voice of one of the mercenaries, obviously the leader. "Go back to your anvil and let us get this done." Athald looked down at the wounded paladin, choking on his own blood, and a well of rage built up inside him. These six men...these blackguards...were going to murder this noble warrior simply to line their pockets with gold. Blood stained coins. "I will not." The words were spoken softly, but they carried easily to the brigands, and indeed to many of the townsfolk who were watching from their hiding places in their shops and homes. They were simple folk...not a warrior amongst them. A dark chuckle came back as a reply, echoed from most of the mercenaries. "You've got some spit and vinegar to you, boy. I admire that. Now move, or you'll get the same as the knight, and we'll get our gold anyway." Athald closed his eyes, surprisingly unafraid. He knew his course of action...for good or for ill, his path was clear. He dropped his hammer and the horseshoe, and then with a smooth motion, took hold of the knight's sword, drawing the weapon. It was a fine blade, finer than any that his master had ever forged, and the balance was perfect. Though he'd never held a weapon in self defense before, somehow, it just felt right. "Boy...you'll not be asked again." The two brigands that held crossbows gave uncertain looks to their captain, but the other three simply glowered at the boy turned protector, their swords still in their sheaths. "You're no Paladin, lad. You're a smith. Put it down and you get to live." Athald raised his head slowly, taking in each of the mercenaries in turn, without a trace of fear. "I. Will. Not." There was a sudden rush of air, and the blade the boy held flared up with light and flame. Athald gave no sense of surprise, simply determination.
"Shuddup. He's just one boy..." was the leader's reply, which was cut off by the sounds of horses upon the road. Worried looks were exchanged between the brigands and one of them called out, "Knights!" All sense of discipline lost, the mercenaries scattered, running for their own mounts, all save their captain, who continued to stare coldly at Athald, a long dagger in his hand. "You've made no friend this day, boy...and the knight will die still, for all your efforts." An evil glare, and he too ran off for the alley between two buildings. Athald glanced down at the fallen paladin whose breathing had grown shallow and his skin pale. The young smith bent down on one knee, touching the knight’s chest, the sword still aflame in his other hand and said simply, "Hold on...help is on the way.." A soft glow issued from the point where the apprentice smith touched the paladin, and the knight's wound ceased to bleed. Still the bolt protruded from his neck, but the wound no longer bled freely. The Paladin's eyes flickered open for a moment, seeing the smith, and he gave a nod...before he fell back unconscious, and an exhausted Athald collapsed in the middle of the street. Athald awoke later that day in a warm bed at the inn. Apparently several of the Knight's companions had arrived shortly after him, and had been the riders that had driven off the bounty hunters. They had also seen the actions of the young apprentice, and were awed. It was explained to the weakened blacksmith that the knight's sword was a Blessed weapon, a rare and ancient blade whose magic could only be called upon by the most honorable and true Paladins. Not one of the Knight's companions could have wielded it as Athald had...and in fact, they were amazed that a boy without proper training had been able to use it at all. For himself, the events of the day were a blur to the smith, remaining in his mind almost as it had all been a dream. A day would pass before Athald would actually be introduced to the man whose life he had saved, Sir Luther Drakethon. After hearing the whole of what had happened, and thanking the boy for himself, Sir Luther had offered Athald a place at his side as a Squire, that he might learn the ways of Heironeous, as well as the skills needed to one day be a knight himself. Athald agreed and spent the next few years in Sir Luther's service, only recently having been released to act on his own, travelling as a Knight Aspirant, seeking to prove himself worthy to be installed as a Full Knight in the service of the Knights of Holy Shielding. |
