Everard's page

About Everard

Everard Katzenjammer
CG Male Human Fighter 2

Init +1; Senses Perception +1

Defence
AC 19 (+1 Dex., +1 Dodge, +5 scale mail, +2 Shield)
VP 20; WP 29
Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +1

Offense
Speed 20 ft
Melee
+4 Dagger, 1d4+2, 19-20/x2
+5 Longsword, 1d8+2, 19-20/x2, S
+4 Shortsword, 1d6+2, 19-20/x2, P
+4 Warhammer, 1d8+2, x3, B
Ranged
+3 Dagger, 1d4+2, 19-20/x2, 10 ft.

Statistics
Str 15, Dex 13, Con15, Int12, Wis 12, Cha 10
Base atk +2; CMB +4; CMD +15

Feats
Dodge
Power attack
Toughness
Weapon focus (Longsword)

Skills
Climb +7 (2 ranks, +2 Str., +3 class skill)
Craft (alchemy) +6 (2 ranks, +1 Int., +3 class skill)
Diplomacy +6 (2 ranks, +0 Cha., +3 class skill, +1 trait bonus)
Handle animal +4 (1 rank, +0 Cha., +3 class skill)
Knowledge (history) +3 (2 ranks, +1 Int.)
Linguistics +2 (1 rank, +1 Int.)
Sense motive +7 (2 ranks, +1 Wis., +3 class skill, +1 trait bonus)
Survival +6 (2 ranks, +1 Wis., +3 class skill)

Traits:
Suspicious (Sense motive)
World traveler (Diplomacy)

Special features
Bravery +1
Skilled

Languages
Common, Goblin, Sylvan

Equipment
80 lbs.

56 gp, 7 sp, 5 cp
Backpack
Bedroll
Dagger 1
Flint and steel
Longsword
Rations (2 days)
Rope (silk, 50 ft.)
Scale mail
Shield (heavy, steel)
Shortsword
Traveler's outfit
Warhammer
Waterskin

Background
'Horizon disease', they called it, or 'Itchfoot'.
So did they dismiss the orphan-boy's tendency to wander around in the forest and read old books, instead of focusing on the here and now. Condescending. Contemptuous.
But then they'd never had all that much time for him, Everard, the only one out of his family to survive when the plague swept through the little village. Healers had come in time to save most of the townsfolk, just not Everard's family. And so he became a charity case; graciously allowed to sleep in barns in return for working on farms.
When the boy learned to read from the old man who ran the town's one shop, sweeping floors, lifting boxes and helping to make out orders as payment for his tuition, food and a roof over his head, the stout farmers scoffed and swore he'd be back. Working a store and reading dusty, musty old parchment was no life for a man, and Everard owed the townsfolk for all their charity, didn't he?
When the young man spent some of the money he'd managed to save and hold onto, sending away to that 'Correspondence School', they mocked him to his face. As if an orphan, a common labourer, could ever amount to anything other than mucking out barns and performing day labour! Bad enough that he'd gotten it into his head that he could become a storekeeper!
The mockery died down when Everard really got into the combat drills in the letters and packets he received from the Correspondence School -- especially after Tall Henry, the strongest lad in the village, tried to shake him down for some money and wound up with a broken wrist. After that, the sour muttering and the grumbling started up. It wasn't right, the bluff, honest farmers said. How did one pale-haired boy with his eyes on the horizon and itchy feet even survive the plague? Surviving plague was for strong, stout folk with their life nailed to their backbone, not for blue-eyed, weird little kids who wandered in the forest whenever there were no chores for them to do. It certainly wasn't for ungrateful little orphans who hurt Tall Henry, the pride of the village, over a few silvers.
It really wouldn't do, they agreed, for the cuckoo to stay in the village.
Nevertheless, they were outraged and insulted when Everard agreed wholeheartedly, spent a fair chunk of his savings on equipment and walked out of the village with his head held high and a spring in his step. Ungrateful, they muttered, unnatural. His eyes on the horizon and an itch in his boots, they said. Better rid of him, they said.

And young Everard, whose eyes were indeed on the horizon, and whose feet were itching to carry him towards all the adventures described in the Correspondence School's pamphlets....? He had a song in his heart and a hunger for life. Not to mention, a child's dream to see the weak and the innocent protected and rescued by his strong arm, which had not left him in all the years of lonely labour and mockery.
He was ready to be a Hero.