Cuneo Danetha's page

Cuneo’s mother died in childbirth, his father left with a cold bed and a second son to warm his shrinking heart. The same full moon which watched unblinking as he was birthed had born witness to the long and slow downfall of a once great house, his father becoming ever more bitter as the years rolled on. There was little for Cuneo within the stony walls of the keep, his father stern as the mountainside, his older brother constantly groomed to receive what was left of the family fortunes.

Cuneo spent little time within the crumbling walls of the castle, finding instead that there was great delight to be had in the swaying oaks and sweet smelling pines which grew thickly on the mountain. He could wander in the woods for hours, especially on stormy days, when rain pelted the trees and thunder rumbled far off on the mountaintop like the footsteps of a giant. Cuneo could laugh because no one would hear him, he could dance because no one could see him, and he could smile as though no one had hurt him.

When he was eight, it was arranged that Cuneo would receive an education befitting a Donealian noble, so long as it did not interfere with his older brother’s instruction. He was taught in grammar, spelling, and mathematics, although he found it difficult to concentrate. Cuneo would gaze at the sunlight spilling through a high window, or listen to the rustle of trees as the wind came rushing on from the east, mind wandering through long forgotten pathways and moss covered rocks. Physical challenges, however, engaged him far more, and he showed a great propensity for swordplay and for archery. He was curious about these things because they would make him powerful, so that one day, perhaps, he could leave the castle and wander far and wide with nothing but a sword at his side and a pack on his back.

As he grew older, Cuneo began to spend time with an aged herbalist of tenuous family connection. Here too, he showed talent, categorizing and sorting plants patiently and precisely, and watching intently as tonics and tinctures were prepared. The old man would bandage wounded returning from fearsome forays and Cuneo would watch with wide eyes. He always showed a keen interest in matters of life and death. The old man was good company too; a firm but gentle hand and a few words of encouragement mean a lot to someone who has never had either.

When Cuneo was thirteen, the herbalist began to speak of moving away from the castle, to serve under a different lord. The man was thinking of Cuneo, wishing to bring the boy with him and rid him of his father’s influence. His father thought it a fine idea, hardly wishing them well as they set out on the old road that led away from the castle.

As they traveled through the countryside, Cuneo felt the terror of a quaking farmer lying in a cellar while his fields were pillaged. He had heard about the plight of his countrymen from tutors and teachers, but paid it little mind, content instead to think on crimson sunsets and rain in the forest. Now, as starving villages pulled their dead from bleak fields to salvage what few crops had survived the burning, Cuneo understood suffering. Twice they had to hide in the undergrowth as troops of soldiers passed by. It didn’t matter whose side they were on. They were rough men.

They arrived at another castle nearer to the border after two weeks of travel. Prostrate before the duke they offered their service. Together, they set bones and sawed off limbs, preparing potions and picking herbs when there were none to care for. Cuneo found he missed the little woods of his childhood home, and the view from the mountaintop. He could not wander alone in this place, and they never went out in the rain. Instead, he focused on those other things which had kept him occupied, archery, swordplay, the toughening of his body and of his mind. By the time he was fifteen the soldiers and guards sparred with him regularly, and he found great delight in learning from them. So long as his limbs were sore and his breathing sharp he felt he was becoming better, preparing for the day when he could venture beyond the walls of the castle. He was eager. He did not know what the world had in store for him.

When he was sixteen, he was given arms and made a soldier of Doneal. Now he was the one to tramp noisily through the roads, and the one who everyone feared. But soon his company was beneath the northern forests, and all save the ceaseless warfare against the orcs was forgotten. Many wounds were suffered, and much blood was shed beneath the broken boughs. Cuneo felt a warm companionship, the knowledge that there were others who would risk their lives to protect him wrapped around him like the loving arms of the mother he never had. But when the day was done and the fires lit, when men retreated to their tents and sharpened their swords for the next day, he found that they lost interest in him. Their minds turned to things far away, to sweet girls and good bread baked by loving mothers. To prospering farmsteads, or to bad news from home, never to the immediate surroundings. Cuneo always wondered why they didn’t stop to gaze at the trees, or smell the scent of lavender blooming in the highlands

At that he fell on the field of battle and was nearly killed. The other soldiers had saved him, but he was grievously wounded, and his life hung in the balance for several days as they marched back to the castle to lick their wounds. It was only when they arrived and the grey haired herbalist of his youth began to tend to him that his condition improved, and he began a long and slow recovery. By the time he had recovered from his wounds those soldiers who could had already ventured north once again, the orcs not waiting for him to recover. Cuneo found that, though his wounds were healed and his life saved, his old strength was gone. He strained his weakened body as often as he could, but it would be a long time before he could shoot a warbow again.

Although the soldiers had never been brothers to him, Cuneo found he was alone without them. He spent much time with the herbalist, but now the old man was bent and wizened, and could only shuffle about his patient’s bedsides. His knobbed and wrinkled hands shook as he changed bandages, and he didn’t ever leave the castle walls anymore. Then he began to cough. It was not long before he lay on the bed while Cuneo administered herbal teas and half remembered remedies. It was to no avail, the old man died in his bed, leaving Cuneo tearful and alone. He packed his bags and left soon after, dimly aware of where he was going.

Feeling grief, despair, and anger, Cuneo returned at last to his childhood home, where he found his father and brother, still struggling to maintain their hold on the mountain. He thought perhaps the old woods and paths he had found in his youth would do him some good, and that he could again climb to the mountaintop and gaze across the lands below. As he walked across the countryside, Cuneo began to realize that if he could confront his father and learn why the man had always treated him like was worthless, perhaps then he could renounce the man and move on. Perhaps then he could learn to love himself now that the only man who had ever shown him unconditional love was dead. It was a journey of a few weeks, but Cuneo felt a timeless pain as he walked, one that assured him it had always been with him and promised never to leave him. It was the pain of a young man with no home and no family.

He arrived at the decaying castle during a feast, marching in through the front doors and taking a seat beside his father. The man was old, now, and his greying beard reminded Cuneo of the herbalist, though they could not have been more different. They spoke for some time, his father unapologetic about his loveless treatment of Cuneo. That was the hard reality of the world, he said. Like his fortunes, his love was finite, and had to be portioned in careful measure. Quaffing his wine, Cuneo left, sleeping on the hard ground outside the castle walls. He took comfort in the thought that there was nothing for him here, and in the knowledge that he didn’t need anything from anybody. Lying beneath an ancient tree, rain beginning to fall softly, Cuneo knew that he could keep himself safe. As he felt the sharpness of the sword at his side, he promised himself that he would rely on no one and need nothing until he was older and wiser. Then, perhaps, he could carve out a place for himself.

The morning sun rose on a castle in turmoil. His father had been found stabbed to death in his bed, window shattered, a note signed with Cuneo’s name on the pillow beside him. His brother now in control of the family estate, the guards left in search of Cuneo, and found him, unaware of what happened, on the road towards the castle gates. Their captain took pity on Cuneo and told him to run, run through the woods he knew so well, run far beyond the end of the mountain, and run till the borders of Doneal were long behind him. Then he marched onward, his troop averting their eyes and following their captain’s lead.

Within a few weeks Cuneo was in Chadreal, his childhood home behind him, his old life in the northern forests a dim memory. With money he had saved from his exploits against the orcs, Cuneo was able to rent a room in a small from an old couple. For a month he relaxed, staying up late to tell the stories of his scars with their daughter, who listened with eager ears. Like many of the folk from that land, her past was simpler and brighter, her life more full of love. Like many who have a long and hard past, Cuneo kept himself emotionally distant and reserved. After a month of soft hills and small forests, Cuneo found himself utterly bored. There were few matters of life and death here, and few things which held his interest. He found that he had less motivation to go and shoot his bow, and that when he drilled with his sword people looked at him strangely. Bidding the old couple and their daughter goodbye, Cuneo went south once again, all the way to the coast and over the sea, going far away to strange lands in search of something he could not find in this land of peace and plenty.

Across the rocking waves of the Sea of Stones, Cuneo arrived in a small city towards the western edge of the Belshiran Federation. There he heard tales and stories of the Vurkane forest, the many whispers and rumors surrounding its trackless interior stirring him like a wounded man stirs a healer. He found three like minded souls smoking in a hazy tavern beneath a gibbous moon, and together they discussed plans and goals. Allustan was in search of magical sources of power. Borris wanted to test himself and prove his might. But it was Arodel whose mind was most like Cuneo’s. Arodel had come from a wealthy family and had been well looked after, he had no need of money or of power, or anything else that could be found in the Vurkane forest. Arodel, like Cuneo, was in search of a purpose. Some men are like dogs: they must find something to sink their teeth into.

For three years they wandered through still hollows and sun spattered groves, returning occasionally to the city to gather supplies and consult ponderous tomes. Cuneo found himself totally and completely engaged. His body hard like a steel spring, his eyes open and his breaths quiet and short, he could think of nothing but that which was around him. They quickly learned that they were in over their heads, and had to avoid many fell and terrible things which crept silently through rustling leaves. It was strange for Cuneo to not be a predator, but he found comfort, as he had since youth, in the smooth boles and high crowns of many tall and ancient trees. They were straighter here, and climbed far into the air, crowding tightly against one another and choking out all light.

Soon after returning from a trip to the city, Borris was killed. They had to wait till the creature was done feasting before they could salvage what was left of his carcass. His family would be waiting. When the thing finally left, only a few meagre bones remained, shredded flesh still hanging off them, skull missing the jawbone. They each kept a knuckle, and brought the rest back to the city. It was then, on the journey back to lay his bones to rest, that their lives were changed forever. They had a small boat which they used to move quickly back and forth, and as they sailed back along the coastline they were attacked by pirates. Surrendering immediately, they were placed at the mercy of rough men who live dangerous lives. Cuneo and Arodel were clapped in irons and sent below decks, Allustan was killed and tossed overboard.

For a few weeks, life was hell. They rowed each day from before sunup until after sundown, and if they slowed they were whipped and then returned to labor. Salt water made it’s way into the ship pooled at their feet, making their skin peel after the first day. They were given a meagre ration of bread and rat meat, not quite enough to keep them from starving. The manacles chafed, the boat creaked, and the drums of doom beat ever on, a pounding rhythm in the gloom. There was no comfort and no hope. Southeastern Golm was sighted on the sixteenth day. They had come to the shores of Iskendal with a cargo full of stolen goods, ready to deal with a people who had few allies and few alternatives. Then came thunder in the heavens, and raindrops falling like daggers from the sky. The ship was a child’s plaything, turning and spinning in the wind and froth, the sea rolling and boiling like a witch’s cauldron.

A red sun dawned over a battered ship and a broken crew. For a day they merely drifted, moving ever to the south through unknown waters. Another ship was spotted on the horizon, flying a strange flag of green and white. It sailed next to them, elves in armor holding bows, pikes flashing in the sky. They fought on the decks till blood ran down the sides of the ship, but in the end, the pirates were victorious and the elves defeated. There were now only a few crew members left, barely enough to maintain order over the slaves. There were whispers of mutiny, and of one who could pick the locks with a fishbone and his fingernails. Disease struck, and the whole ship was laid low in agony and despair, unable even to limp to the shore. And then the locks were picked, and the manacles flew open, and there was no moon in the sky to bear witness to their revenge.

Only twelve slaves survived out of a group of nearly fifty, and all the crew now slept beneath the waves. The riggings had been damaged in the storm, and they were too weak to row, so they drifted at the mercy of the currents. For nearly twenty days the boat rocked gently, their food now gone, their water running out. At last land was spotted. They had arrived on the northern shores of Mirem, land of excess, at a busy harbor, ship still full of cargo. Cuneo was weak as a kitten, but he put on the captain’s hat and did his best to sell their stolen wares. The storm had come and gone, and they were still alive.

After three months in the harbor, the ship was freshly painted, and a new crew had been recruited. Cuneo and Arodel had spent many nights talking, and had decided they would venture further south, to Durnauc, where they could patrol the waters outside Cathuili beside enterprising merchants. Cuneo found that the hot sun and dense jungles of southeastern Golm were very much not to his liking, and the Vurkane forest now a dim and distant memory. Perhaps, in time, they could return to those lands and venture once again into the still and ancient airs beneath the trees. But having listened to Borris scream as he was eaten, Cuneo had realized that the horrors of that land were far beyond what he could face down with sword in hand. He did not fancy running for the rest of his life.

For two years they sailed the high seas, Cuneo at the helm, Arodel at his side. The salt spray and gentle rocking of the ship held their own appeal, as did the elegant office Cuneo constructed, collecting curios on their many journeys. Cuneo found a stark beauty in the endless expanse of the ocean, the sparkling waves endlessly rolling on towards shores and coves left far behind. But, in time, Cuneo began to realize that a mariner’s life was not for him. Arodel remained his only real friend during this time, and though they had many long nights on the shore, and kept one another sharp and strong, he was not enough. Cuneo saw flecks of grey in his beard and felt his knees creak a little when he went down the stairs too quickly. Perhaps he would get off his ship and stay on shore forever, wandering in forests and taking life easy.

They sailed farther south and east, towards the remote portion of Durnauc. There were many ships full of gems and precious stones, and many pirates which preyed upon them. Cuneo preyed upon the pirates. After several weeks without any luck, they heard tale of a particularly large and slow ship which had filled it’s hold with the contents of many merchants before sailing northeast along the coast. Cuneo set off at once after them, following as fast as they could manage. Many strange lands and small settlements fell away behind them before, finally, in the cold north once again, the caught their prize. A large ship indeed, sailing near the shore, deck full of scoundrels.

It’s crew proved to be few in number and weak of spirit, weakened by disease and by casualties sustained acquiring their cargo. Cuneo’s lads boarded the ship, captured the captain, and imprisoned the crew. Now master of two ships, they sailed onward, arriving in Inzeldrab in time for Cuneo to celebrate his twenty seventh birthday.

Cuneo took to the shores and began to relax for the first time since his brief stay in Chadreal. Arodel was still with him, and they found it could be nice not to have to stay sharp. For a time. Then Arodel sailed off again, leaving Cuneo on his own in an unfamiliar city. He began to wander again in northern forests, as he had not done since his youth. But now things were different. He had seen the world and found nothing for him in it. Cuneo had relied on himself, as he knew he had to do the moment his father told him he didn’t have the love to spare for him. He had had adventures and tribulations. He had fought for his life on three continents and in two oceans, but he wasn’t sure what he had accomplished. Cuneo began to drink heavily.

It was at this time in his life that Cuneo met the woman who was to become his wife. Elaine saw something in the hard glint of his eyes and the strange way he glanced around the room before sitting down and approached him to learn his story. He was distant at first, then confused. Why would anyone want to pay attention to him? The only man who had ever loved him was dead, and his only lasting friend had left for the call of the sea. She told him to come by her shop around closing time. It was an apothecary. There is something about healing another person that is of inherent worth. Elaine found that Cuneo needed her skills, and Cuneo found that Elaine needed his. They moved far away from the city, to a small fishing village, and loved each other greatly for many years. It was strange, to have a place in the world. Strange and wonderful.

Soon after celebrating his thirty first birthday Cuneo came home to find Arodel on his doorstep. They greeted one another with a clap on the back, and together they caught up on one another’s lives. Arodel felt empty and alone without Cuneo, and wondered if he might go out on a few more adventures. He was working for the Dragon now, and wanted Cuneo’s help. Cuneo sat up late talking with Elaine, part of him yearning to scratch an itch that had been bugging him for years. The same part which told him that Elaine would be there when he got back. She would miss him, she said, but bid him good luck so long as he promised he would be back in one piece by the spring. Arodel and Cuneo set out on the road again, glad to be back together again at last. Arodel had stayed busy.

They sailed up and down the coast of Inzeldrab for the better part of a year, taking towns and resupplying soldiers. Sometimes they joined up with other members of the Dragon’s fleet to sit in harbours under siege, other times they landed and walked beside her soldiers. Cuneo met with her three times, the first two times with Arodel, the last time alone, after his brother died. They had been the first to climb the walls of a settlement, standing in front of the ladders and protecting those who followed. There was no one to protect them. Cuneo kept the man’s necklace, a symbol of his noble birth, and then went back to work. It was still the bleak midwinter, and he needed something to keep him occupied until Arodel’s death could sink in. He wrote letters to Elaine, but it only got them rarely, as he had to move around a lot. Then he stopped getting them at all

Cuneo returned home to find that tragedy had struck the one home he ever had. Elaine had traveled north, upstream, to help soothe the slaves of a large farming settlement there. On her way, however, she had been killed by Mantids. There was no corpse to be found, only a heedless sun which scorched the earth until it there was nothing but dust. Dust, that was what she had become.

Cuneo put his wedding ring in the same bag where he kept Borris’ knucklebone and Arodel’s necklace before strapping his sword to his hip. For a time, it had rested on two nails that he had driven into the wall above his hearth. But now he had no home and no family anymore. Now he needed to wander and to focus, to plan and to kill. Retirement had worked when he had Elaine, but there was no one like her in any of the nearby lands. Cuneo knelt before the dragon and told her he needed more.

Cuneo’s two principal motivations are his need for a family and his need for a purpose in life.

Having no mother and a father and older sibling who never loved him, Cuneo has found that his life is much easier and more enjoyable when there are people who love him. The Herbalist, Arodel, and Elaine have all provided various degrees of love and support for Cuneo, and he hopes that, perhaps, he can find more people to fill this role in the future. Once he forms attachments, therefore, they are for life. However, Cuneo has always felt betrayed by his father and brother, and there are many dark patches in his past. He is therefore emotionally reserved and distant, forming bonds slowly and deliberately. Experiences are kept compartmentalized and discreet from one another, emotion felt, but kept distant from the things which cause it. Because of this, although Cuneo is emotionally distant and does not empathize with others easily, he likes talking with them about his past and learning about their stories. Further, he has learned that other people are often the most interesting things to learn about, and has found that people tend to like to talk about themselves.

Cuneo has spent his life training for something, but he’s not quite sure what. He’s been trying to stay strong and sharp, always trying to learn new things and increase his ever expanding skill set. As a result, Cuneo has become houndlike, always on the hunt, always looking for prey, never wondering why he’s doing what he’s doing, and never stopping to take a break. For a time, during his long marriage, he was able to relax and go about his business at a more leisurely rate, spending more time taking care of himself and less time taking care of business. But without Elaine, he doesn’t see what taking care of himself would accomplish. All he sees is a body that needs to be strengthened and problems that need to be solved.

Cuneo’s large frame is slightly thinner than he’d like, his hair a little whiter, and his knees a little stiffer. Once, he was over two hundred pounds of muscle and blood packed onto a six foot frame, but now he’s lighter and sinewier, though perhaps it makes no difference to a casual observer. His nearly black hair is short on the sides and long on top, slightly curled bangs hanging over dark, faintly green eyes and thin, gaunt cheeks. Not so thin as they used to be, though. His scraggly, greying beard is really just a few day of growth needing to be shaved, but a shaving kit is heavy and unnecessary. His leather boots are supple and well worn, perhaps they should’ve been replaced a few years ago, just like his scabbard and his belt, which he wears slightly too loose. Perhaps he hasn’t realized just how much weight he’s lost, after all. Drab and dusty, he stands weary from a long road, but he stands straight backed and stoic regardless.

Defence
HP 5d10+10=42
AC 19 (10+6 Armor+3 Dex)
Saves Fort +5, Ref +7, Will +3
CMD 23

Offence
Init +3
Greatsword options: +9 (2d6+4 19-20), +7 (2d6+10 19-20)
Longbow options: +9 (1d8+3 x3), +7/+7 (1d8+3 x3), +7 (1d8+7 x3), +5/+5 (1d8+7 x3); +1/+1 within 30’
CMB +8
Spells Prepared (CL 4)
Entangle (DC 13), Resist Energy

Ability scores: Str 16, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 10
Feats: Quickdraw, Rapid Shot (R. Bonus), Precise Shot/Point Blank Shot, Endurance (R. Bonus), Boon Companion,
Traits: World Traveler, Magical Knack (Ranger)
Languages: Donelian, Belshirian, Gelkrosh (Tribal), Gelkrosh (Settler), Draconic, Durnauc-Golapor trade language (or is this Belshirian? If so then I’ll also know Human)

Skills 30/30
Perception +10 (5 ranks, +3 class, +2 wis) [F.E. applies]
Survival +10 (5 ranks, +3 class, +2 wis) [+2 tracking] [F.E. applies]
Sense Motive +7 (1 rank, +3 class, +1 trait, +2 wis) [F.E. applies]
Spellcraft +4 (1 rank, +3 class)
Stealth +7 (5 ranks, +3 class, +3 dex, -4 ACP)
Ride +3 (1 rank, +3 class, +3 dex, -4 ACP)
Swim +3 (1 rank, +3 class, +3 str, -4 ACP)
Climb +3 (1 rank, +3 class, +3 str, -4 ACP)
Heal +7 (2 ranks, +3 class, +2 wis)
Know Nat +6 (3 ranks, +3 class) [F.E. applies]

Background Skills 10/10
Profession (Sailor) +7 (2 ranks, +3 class, +2 wis)
Profession (Gambler) +6 (1 rank, +3 class, +2 wis)
Linguistics +5 (5 ranks)
Lore (Mantids) +6 (1 rank, +3 class, +2 favored enemy)
Handle Animal +4 (1 rank, +3 class)

Money 1500
200 Breastplate
20 Leather barding for cat
350 Mwk Greatsword
700 Mwk Composite +3 Longbow
200 Yack

30 Other Stuff

Defence
HP 5d8+10=32
AC=21 (+3 Natural; +2 Armor; +5 Dex)
Saves +6 Fort, +9 Dex, +4 Will
CMD 21, Evasion

Offence
Speed 50 ft
Standard: +8 Bite (1d6+3)+Trip, Full +8 Bite (1d6+3)+Trip, 2 Claws +6 (1d4+3)
Sprint
CMB +6 (+2 Agile Maneuvers)

Ability Scores: Str 17, Dex 20, Con 15, Int 3, Wis 12, Cha 6
Feats: Iron Will, Improved Initiative, Agile Maneuvers
Tricks: Come, Stay, Down, Attack, Alarm, Defend, Flank, Get Help, Deliver, Rescue (Bonus), Track (Bonus)
Skills: 5/5
Stealth +9 (1 rank, +3 Class, +5 Dex)
Acrobatics +9 (1 rank, +3 Class, +5 Dex)
Climb +7 (1 rank, +3 Class, +3 Str)
Swim +7 (1 rank, +3 Class, +3 Str)
Perception +5 (1 rank, +3 Class, +1 Wis)