About Damir MareskDamir is a wanderer who has lost his childhood and seeks to find the answers hidden in his fragmented memories of years past. His heritage and his budding powers a mystery and as much a boon as a curse, and he hungers to understand himself. Appearance:
Damir is rather rugged and handsome, a bit rough around the edges but has something surprisingly attractive about him—perhaps it's his rogueish smile? Only a truly astute observer would notice his orcish ancestry, mostly evident in his height (well over 6 feet), sturdy, muscular physique, and blue-greyish skin. His canines do not protrude out of his mouth, although if someone ever got a good look they'd notice they are nonetheless significantly larger than your typical human's. His body is crisscrossed with terrible scars, many of which appear to be carved in the shape of runes—although others are clearly just the result of miscellaneous injuries. Damir has thick brown hair that grows far too fast for his own liking, and though he endeavours to keep his hair clipped reasonably short, it can get out of control in a couple of weeks if not attended to. (He's got body hair aplenty too, if you were wondering.) His eyes are hazel, and though he frowns a lot, his eyes are often direct windows to emotions—much to Damir's embarrassment. He typically wears thick leather armour and average traveller's clothes, although he does enjoy leather-based accessories and is often seen wearing intricately designed armbands and belts. Right over his heart is a mysterious tattoo of a snowflake made up of many hundreds of tiny, tiny runes. It appears to be engraved in purplish-blue ink, but the appearance changes almost every time someone looks at it. Damir walks with a noticeable limp, although he has a surprising amount of physical endurance such that he rarely makes an issue out of it. Personality:
Damir is amicable and friendly, almost to a fault. He hates to see someone be left out, and so always tries to make everyone feel like they're part of the group, respected, and well-liked. He compliments people often, and is generally quite suave—almost flirtatious. He enjoys conversation for the sake of conversation, and will attempt to fill silences with empty nothingness if nobody else will. Damir respects hard work, honesty, and truthfulness, and has some level of disdain for over-the-top pomp and ceremony (such as what he saw all too frequently in Taldor). He's a determined and almost stubborn person who generally follows his intuition without thinking too deeply about the hard questions or the future, feeling that things will work out for the best in the end no matter what. He can be rather quick to trust (too quick to trust, really), and that's caused him a lot of pain--but he insists that there's enough good people in the world to make up for those who would take advantage of his good will. He enjoys the simple things in life—good food and drink, attractive men and women, pleasant music, a beautiful natural vista, and a comfortable bed to rest in at the end of a hard day's work. He is hungry for knowledge, a trait he picked up as a way of making up for his rather spotty memory of his past, and loves to read—he has a special love for geography and culture. As of late he is particularly curious about his mysterious powers and dreams, and hence has an interest in anyone 'mystical' who might be able to give him a glint of understanding as to what he has inherited. Background:
Damir’s oldest solid memory is from about fifteen years of age, waking up in a small hospice in Oppara. The nurses had said that a passing Pathfinder field agent had found him unconscious in an alleyway somewhere, about to be eaten alive by a small pack of dire rats; he'd been rescued and taken there to recover. Apparently, that was about a month prior, and he had remained comatose since. The nurses had been worried about brain damage, but Damir seemed to be healthy enough... besides his sketchy memory, a constant limp, and the mysterious scarification that criss-crossed his entire body, but those things weren't too bad overall. He remembered little but his name and age, but the nurses assured Damir that things would no doubt come back to him in time. Soon enough the half-orc went on his way to re-establish what he assumed was his life within Taldor. The half-orc threw himself into a variety of odd jobs over the next few years, never satisfied with remaining at one for any given time, hoping that one would be the catalyst of his memories again; he worked as a labourer, a stagehand at an opera, a jewellery seller's bodyguard, a carriage driver, a circus animal keeper, a librarian, a news crier, and more than a dozen other professions. Nothing really stuck, but the variety kept Damir fed, entertained, and happy, so he never really felt like the amnesia was really a burden on him. He travelled extensively throughout Taldor seeking work and experiences, even visiting neighbouring Andoran from time to time. He spent a rather large time in libraries and bookstores devouring knowledge of the world in some attempt to make up for his lack of childhood memories, and soon became a bit of an expert on geography and culture. He so dearly wished to see the howling jungles of the Mwangi Expanse and the frozen wastes of the Land of the Linnorm Kings, the burning sands of Osirion and the mystical elven cities of Kyonin... he lived vicariously through the Pathfinder Chronicles and other stories from these faraway nations, hoping heartily that he would be able to save up enough money to travel farther abroad in time. It was the middle of his twentieth winter when Damir was awoken in the middle of the night by horrible, searing pain coursing through his entire body. He howled and thrashed about in his bed sheets, clawing at his face and crying from the sheer shock of it all. His bedroom lit up with all the colours of an aurora borealis, light emanating from the scars all over his body that never seemed to fade. In his mind’s eye, all he could see was a frozen wasteland. He as a child was stumbling through a blizzard, and yet could see, could hear, seemed completely unaffected by the onslaught. Completely naked and yet inured from the cold. Damir realised in an instant, perhaps, just perhaps, the blizzard was not some natural thing, but perhaps of his own making—and, in response, cruel and hideous laughter cackled in every recess of his mind. The pain overwhelmed him at that point, and he passed out. In the morning, he found that the world seemed... warmer; the bite of winter seemed to not affect him anymore. That was mysterious, and the memories of his nightmare lingered for days, but Damir was determined to put that behind him. Unfortunately, that would prove to be impossible. From then on, every year at the same time, during the dead of winter, Damir experienced more horrible nightmares and the tortuous pain that wrecked his entire body. Twisted beings of some otherworldly nature danced around him, chanting in languages he'd never spoken and yet somehow could understand. Cruel witches cackled and laughed as they carved runes into his skin with red-hot knives, filling his body with cursed power that felt like liquid mercury running through his veins. He was anointed with the blood of frost giants and left exposed to the elements, chained to boulders and unable to move. Spell after spell was flung at him, as if in some kind of perverse resistance training. Flashes of other tortures, momentary photographs in time filled his dreaming, screaming mind on these nights, and Damir would awaken the next morning, sobbing at all the horrors that were awakening within him. He spoke to multiple priests about his nightmares, but none had answers; some would prescribe him with draughts to help him sleep peacefully, but even the drugs could not stop them coming unbidden. Damir developed severe anxiety, breaking down into panic attacks when autumn was coming to an end, for he knew that the nightmares would soon be back. The last winter Damir experienced was six months ago. He had braced himself for the nightmares to come, and yet... somehow, they did not. For the first time in six years, his midwinter sleep was peaceful. His dreams were filled with a woman, one he did not know and yet knew instinctively, somehow. She whispered words of calm and peace to him, running her hands all over his scarred body and healing the worst of the accursed engravings. Together they created magic in the air. She laid a gentle kiss upon his chest, just above the heart, leaving behind a sacred tattoo in the shape of a snowflake made up of infinitesimally small runes. Damir slept for days, revelling in the gentle peace of his dreamscape. When he awoke, he noticed two things immediately: one, his room was for some unknown reason filled to the brim with fog; and two, the snowflake tattoo from his dreams had somehow appeared on his chest in reality. Mysterious words lingered in his mind, on the tip of his tongue, and when he spoke them, wondrous magic came alive at his fingertips. Bewildered and delighted, Damir spent a good week simply revelling in the joy of his newfound talent. But soon enough his mind would wander. He would remember her face in his dream; he would remember the terrible nightmares as well. For the first time in a decade, ever since he awoke in the hospice in Oppara, he questioned his past, and his body and soul hungered to know just what was beyond the foggy haze of his memories. He had no idea where or how he was going to do that, but Damir was determined to do something. And so, within the month, he quit his job (currently working as a gardener for a rich noble family), packed his bags, and set off. To where? Damir had absolutely no idea. He simply walked until he reached somewhere that felt right, following whatever vague whispers of intuition he had in him. Perhaps they were the whispers of her voice he followed... In just the past couple of days, Damir found himself in the village of Heldron. Hearing talk of the wise woman within the town, he decided to stay for a few days until she had the time to meet with him. Perhaps, just perhaps, she may have some answers for him. Or perhaps not. Only time would tell.
Notes about Background:
I've tried my hardest not to fall into too many amnesia tropes and pitfalls. I feel like the angle I took is both interesting and gives Damir a reason to have a connection to the north while not actually being from the north. But anyway... My thoughts are that Damir was born in Irrisen and somehow abducted by some kind of witches or fey. Doesn't really bother me. Their intention was to twist and curse him into a highly effective witchguard with some extra permafrost powers on top of that - but through some undetermined circumstances he was rescued. No doubt they wanted to make him some kind of wintery Terminator figure. :) His rescuer is likely some kind of witch (hedge witch maybe?) who was able to reverse or at least seal the curses within him and she somehow managed to get him shipped out of Irrisen and back to Taldor. Also of note is that Damir literally has no default half-orc traits. He might as well not be a half-orc. As such... I was wondering if perhaps his heritage was something more... Frost Giant-ish perhaps? Or fey-tainted? Who knows. I'll note that as of the beginning of the adventure, he won't realise he knows Sylvan. Should be fun when he encounters it in the wild! Obviously there's a lot of blanks here, but I feel they would make interesting hooks along the way.
Stat Block:
Damir Maresk Male half-orc oracle 1 NG Medium humanoid (human, orc) Init +1; Senses Perception +1 -------------------- DEFENSE -------------------- AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 16 (+3 armor, +2 shield, +1 Dex) hp 11 (1d8+3) Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +4 Defensive Abilities child of winter, endurance; Resist cold 5 -------------------- OFFENSE -------------------- Speed 20 ft. Melee longsword +2 (1d8+2/19–20) or scorpion whip +2 (1d4+2) Ranged sling +1 (1d4+2) Oracle Spells Known (CL 1st; concentration +4) .....1st (4/day)—bless, cure light wounds, obscuring mist .....0 (at-will)—detect magic, enhanced diplomacy, guidance, light Mystery winter -------------------- STATISTICS -------------------- Str 14, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 16 Base Atk +0; CMB +2; CMD 13 Feats Endurance, Extra Revelation Traits Affable, Restless Wayfarer Skills Diplomacy +7 (+9 to gather information), Knowledge (geography) +5, Knowledge (local) +7, Sense Motive +5, Survival +5; Armor Check Penalty -3 Languages Common, Orc, Sylvan SQ oracle's curse (lame), revelations (child of winter, icy skin) Favoured Class oracle (1 hit point) -------------------- SPECIAL ABILITIES -------------------- Affable +2 on Diplomacy to gather information and do so in half time. Child of Winter (Ex) Constant endure elements against cold temperatures. Move freely on normal ice/snow (heavy snow is 2 squares) & no tracks. +2 Init & Ref in winter. Endurance +4 to a variety of environmental checks and saves. Sleep in L/M armor with no fatigue. Lame One of your legs is permanently wounded, reducing your base land speed by 10 feet if your base speed is 30 feet or more. If your base speed is less than 30 feet, your speed is reduced by 5 feet. Your speed is never reduced due to encumbrance. Notes about Mechanics:
- Mystery is Winter, from People of the North. - Traded away all default half-orc racial abilities. (All are from Advanced Race Guide.)
- Enhanced diplomacy spell is from Taldor, Echoes of Glory. Happy to trade it out if you have an issue. - Affable is from Champions of Purity. - Thus far, everything else is from "core" sources or is reasonably obvious. - Damir is basically a good all-rounder character. He knows a fair bit about some useful things and he's quite good in social situations. He'll focus on spellcasting and buffing allies, but he can also wade into melee or remain on the outskirts with his whip as needed. His revelations will mostly be defensive as well, although his mystery spells give him some decent 'blasty' firepower. Icepower. Whatever. Possessions:
11 GP, 9 SP, 8 CP Studded leather armor
Longsword
Belt pouch
Backpack
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