Name: Dara "Ironshanks" Hellhammer
Race: Female Dwarf Age: Adult (appears to be about 18 in human terms)
Size: Medium, 4'0"
Type: Humanoid (dwarf)
Classes:Barbarian 1, Scout 1
Favored: Rogue (Scout)
Social: Daughter of Morgaard Hellhammer Faith: CN Follower of Torag Home: Highhelm
Jobs: Hired muscle
Languages: Common, Dwarvish
Str 14, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 16, Cha 6
This young dwarf woman has a hard, mean look about her. While she's not unattractive by any means, her piercing green eyes glare at anyone brazen enough to make eye-contact with her. Rather than wearing her hair in braids as is common for dwarven women her age, her coal-black hair is worn short. In fact, you wouldn't be surprised if she cuts it herself with the waraxe swinging at her hip.
Dressed in well-worn studded leather, a battered wooden shield hangs across her back on a leather strap. Her weapons are a shortbow she keeps in a back holster, and a heavily engraved combination axe and warhammer on a belt loop from which her hand seldom strays more than a few inches.
SensesDarkvision 60 ft.; Perception +8
+1 vs. traps
+2 vs. unusual stonework: auto check within 10 ft
Init +2; Speed 30 ft.
BAB +1; CMB +3; CMD 15
+4 to CMD vs. bullrush and trip while standing on the ground
Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +3; +2 to Will when raging
+2 vs. poison, spells, and spell-like abilities
AC 17, touch 12, flat-footed 14 (+4 Armor, +2 Dex, +1 Shield)
+4 vs. giants (dodge), -2 when raging hp 20 (1d12+1d8+6)
Melee Waraxe +5 (1d8+2, ×3; B or S)
power attack +4 (1d8+4)
Dagger +3 (1d4+2, 19-20 ×2; P or S)
Shortbow +3 60-ft (1d6, ×3; P)
Dara Hellhammer, often called "Ironshanks" for her warm, hospitable demeanor, is the daughter of a dwarf of little note in Highhelm. While her father, Morgaard, was off adventuring and baby-sitting the no doubt whiny offspring of some elven Duke, Dara was left to be raised by her blacksmith grandfather, Hragnor, just outside of the dwarven city.
Like her father before her, Dara entered the military at a young age, but found all the hub-bub about rules, honor, and ancestry to be irritating at best. When other recruits suggested a good-looking lass like her should finding a husband to cool her coals, she decided that the life of a soldier wasn't for her. She turned in her resignation by adjusting the vocal pitch of the offenders with the blunt end of her waraxe before hitting the open road.
Now practically broke with no real skills other than sharp eye and an axe to grind with the world, Dara has ended up in some piss ant town called Baslwief. For the past few weeks, she has been hiring her waraxe out for guard duty, bouncing taverns, or similar jobs, but her reputation for having a short fuse and being difficult to give orders to keeps causing her list of repeat employers to dwindle. Yep, it's about time to shake the dust of this town on her boots and hit the trail. Perhaps seeking guard duty for a merchant caravan is in order...