About Franti the Fool
Small. +2 Dex, +1 Att (+2 including Dex), +4 Stealth (+5 including Dex), +10 on disguise, -1 CMB, -1 CMD (+0 including Dex), Small Damage Die.
Bewildered: The target becomes bewildered, taking a –2 penalty to AC. The target takes an additional –2 penalty to AC against all attacks made by the rogue. At 10th level and 16th level, the penalty to AC against attacks made by the rogue increases by –2 (to a total maximum of –8).
Disoriented: The target takes a –2 penalty on attack rolls. In addition, the target takes an additional –2 penalty on all attack rolls it makes against the rogue. At 10th level and 16th level, the penalty on attack rolls made against the rogue increases by –2 (to a total maximum of –8).
Stat Block, assume small:
Human Unchained Rogue 4 (Scout)
CG Small humanoid
Init +10; Senses Perception +6
Languages: Taldane, Varisian, Skald, Hallit
Skills See GM Rolls for more.
Languages Taldane, Varisian, Skald, Hallit
[dice=Initiative]1d20 + 8[dice]
[dice=Initiative, Small]1d20 + 9[dice]
[Dice=Fort]1d20 + 3[dice]
[Dice=Primary Melee Attack]1d20 + 9[dice]
[Dice=Small Primary Melee Attack]1d20 + 11[dice]
Two Weapon fighting is two attack rolls, both with a -2 modifier to my attack rolls! In addition, the secondary damage form DEX is halved.
The Below Assumes using Blunt Arrows.
[Dice=Small Primary Ranged Attack]1d20 + 10[dice] (20/3x)
Once per day, if you fail an Acrobatics, Bluff, Disguise, Sleight of Hand, or Stealth check, you may immediately reroll that check as a free action. You must take the second result, even if it is worse
[dice=Str]1d20 + 0[dice]
The city of Ardis: former capital of the once great nation of Ustalav It is a city of sorrow, of memories of better times and thoughts of what could have been. Great mansions have become haunted, decrepit ruins for vagrants or worse. If the fields of Ardeal manage to be harvested, they reap flavorless, soiled goods. It is a place of soul crushing misery. A place where the announcement of a child brings not cries of joy, but blank faced terror for the child and family in question. And it is in this bleak, downcast city that Ustalav’s happiest, most cheerful jester was born.
Franti’s life began with a joke, though a cruel one. He arrived a month early, his mother was caught unprepared and died in childbirth. The lively fool who brings a smile to even the most cynical of Ustalav learned the most important part of comedy before he could speak: timing. With a bright demeanor unfitting to any in Ustalav, Franti was a frequent target of bullies. He laughed it off in a literal manner, takings fists with a chuckle, spitting out blood with a snicker. ‘It was a good joke’ he would tell himself, bruised and bloodied, unable to rise.
Franti sought to bring a smile to every face in Ustalav as a Wandering Jester, and the role was fitting as everyone had already called him “Franti the Fool.” He quickly learned that Ustalav had lost any books or relics relating to jestery, perhaps never having any at all. He joined a travelling pilgrimage of Desna to seek these talents elsewhere. For six years, he travelled with them. He practiced his jokes to the villages they passed, and found that those outside Ustalav had a better sense of humor. He remained determined to rekindle the humor of Ardis.
The Worldwound brought stories of lost relics of kingdoms and great men. In particular, he heard of a legendary fool from Drezen whose antics and jokes were so funny and clever, men and women would come from all corners of the world to hear her if not for a moment. Breaking from his pilgrimage party, Franti crossed into the Worldwound seeking what he believed would bring happiness to Ustalav. Discovered by demons, he made a desperate chase back to Kenabres.
Though the clown’s strange antics had the demon’s lose his trail several times, they reached him before he could make it to safe ground. He drew a daggers, sniffling between loud laughter, wiping tears away while his mouth was fixed into a large smile. He was terrified. As the first demon drew close, Franti slashed as quickly and wildly as he could. And to his surprise the demon fell. It fell with an arrow between its eyes. The others curled overl one after the other, as Franti looked for his savior. She emerged, beautiful and solemn. Franti caught a glimpse at her symbol of Desna. ‘Is she to join our pilgrimage?’ Franti thought.
Franti lived, and his cheers were endless as crusaders arrived to save him. Their faces were riddled with confusion upon finding the thirteen year old jester dancing, coated in blood of demons on their arrival. The woman disappeared, but still visits Franti’s dreams. He told his pilgrimage the story and he was met with disbelief. Upon asking for her name, Franti had naught an answer. ‘Your jokes are usually better than this, Franti,’ they told him. He returned back to Ustalav after a few more years of travel.
And for a couple years, Franti did spread joy across Ustalav. He would bring genuine smiles to the faces of peasants. He would entertain the noble houses with tales of adventure and jokes from places far away. He would laugh, he would sing, he would dance, and for a short while, Ustalav would laugh and dance and sing with him.
Tales of Franti - Opaline’s Fool:
Franti the Fool, as he was proudly known, would make his travel back to Ardis. And waiting for him on his return was the Countess of Ardeal, Solismina Venacdahlia. She had heard tales of him, and remarked proudly on what Ardis men can accomplish. She told the fool of her daughter Opaline, how she was under a spell of depression, and refused to leave her room. The countess offered Franti her daughter’s hand in marriage if he could bright but a smile to her face. And so he went determined to Opaline, and upon seeing her in her quarters, he instantly fell in love. Even with a look of apathy on her face, she appeared divine. Franti told his first joke, his favorite joke, though it fell on deaf ears.
Perplexed, he told a second. She was hearing him, but did not laugh, did not smile, did not even shake her head. Franti was not used to such a response, though it made him more determined. A third joke about three paladins in a bar. A fourth on his experiences across Ustalav. A fifth on the behest of a Kelish noble. No response. For an entire month, Franti would wake, walk to the castle and visit Opaline. He would spend hours trying to make her smile, retire, and write new jokes for the morrow. He turned to other forms of humor, he crafted songs and dances and prop based acts. But he could not make her lose her look of apathy..
One day he had given up. He came to Opaline and said not a word. For eight hours he looked into her eyes, still madly in love, looking for something. But Opaline did not respond, and while she looked back to him, her gaze was empty. He rose, but his foot caught on his bag of materials. He lunged forward, hitting his head on her bedpost, falling to the floor in pain while blood pooled around him. And Opaline cracked a smile. And upon seeing her smile, Franti beamed a grin unlike any other. He was inspired, and told the tale of his time beyond the Worldwound. He told her of each of his fears, of every near death experience, of each pain he felt. When he spoke of when he faced a pack of demons, crying and chuckling, Opaline’s laughter roared endless, heard across the streets of Ardis.
It took an entire day for Opaline to catch her breathe from her laughter. ‘Oh Franti you fool,’ she would say, ‘you love me, do you not?’ And Franti nodded his head viciously. ‘And you love seeing me as this, happy and in laughter?’ Again Franti nods with passion. ‘There is no one as funny as you, my fool. Will you do anything to make me laugh?’ Franti smiles, sitting on her bed now. ‘Anything, Opaline.’ She grins wickedly, though blinded by love Franti only sees a heavenly smile. ‘Then return to the Worldwound. Fight for Ustalav and become the feared fool of the battlefield. Write me each day in every detail. Of every fear you have. Of each pain you experience. Of every moment that a man like you manages to survive in a place like that. When I have a thousand letters, I will return your love.’
And Franti wasn’t played for a fool so much as he was one. When the call came for soldier for the Worldwound, everyone in Ardis was surprised when Franti joined the mercenaries in their caravans. They asked the clown why he was heading to the Worldwound, and he told them his life’s story. He spoke on his earlier encounters, his mission to spread happiness, of joining the Crusades for Opaline. Never before has a story by Franti been met with such laughter as when he told this tale to the mercenaries. But Franti, poor Franti, was left confused, for he didn’t tell a joke, but his reasons to live.
"I've never understood you Holy Warriors. When a rogue falls, we merely get up. But when a Paladin falls, you have to ask your Gods for atonement..."
"Know how the clerics of Torag make Holy Steel? The tempered blade is given a few extra whacks to beat the hell out of it."
"Some demons feast on flesh, I am told. I am safe though, the taste of a jester is rather funny."
"What do you call a joke without a punchline? You call it this joke."
"What do you call a joke with no punchline?" Franti shrugs if asked to clarify.
On Dull Paladins:
Paladin Lover: Shelyn:
Paladin Lover: Sarenrae