About Henrietta CoyCrunch:
Henrietta Coy
Elf Fighter (Cad) 3 / Wizard (Spellslinger) 2 CN Medium humanoid (Elf) Init +5; Perception +4, Low-Light Vision -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+0 armor, +3 Dex) (0% Spell Failure) hp 29 (3d10+2d6+1) Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5, (+2 Against Enchantment); Immune sleep -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. Melee Two-Handed Improvised Weapon + 6 (xdx + 3 / x2), One-Handed Improvised Weapon + 6 (xdx + 2 / x2), Elven Curved Blade + 6 (1d10 + 3 / 18-20 x2) or Dagger +6 (1d4 + 2) Ranged Mwk. Blunderbuss + 6 (1d8 + 4/ x2) Dragon Pistol + 5 (1d6 + 4/ x4) School of the Gun Spell-Like Abilities Mage Bullets Spellslinger Spells Prepared (CL 4th; Concentration +7)
Opposition Schools Enchantment, Divination, Transmutation, Abjuration
Combat Gear : Revolver, Elven Curve Blade, Mwk. Blunderbuss, Dragon Pistol, Metal Pellet Cartridges (98), Metal Bullet Cartridges (89), Dragon’s Breath Cartridges (19), Entangling Cartridges (10), Tracer Bullet (5), Flare Cartridges (15), Mwk. Leather armor, Dagger x5, Switchblade, Boot Knife, Potion of Cure Light Wounds (4), Potion of Shield of Faith +2, Potion of Bear’s Endurance, Potion of Eagle's Splendor Other Gear : backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, a gunsmith's kit, iron pot, mess kit, rope, torches (10), trail rations (20 days), waterskin, hooded waterproof lantern, Gear Maintenance Kit, Cold Weather Outfit, Gambler’s Kit, Animal Feed (20 Days), Gambler’s Kit, pot of alchemical grease, a board game, five candles, a candle lamp, a common snorkel, fake footprint shoes, a grappling hook, a mirror, a periscope, two sacks, a scent cloak, 50 feet of silk rope, a smokestick, a dose of sneezing powder, five tindertwigs, 50 feet of twine, thieves’ tools, masterwork musical instrument (violin), Newly Acquired Gear: Stone Dias Piece from Cave. Altiendel military medal. Bag of Holding Type I. Spellbook. Key of Lock Jamming. PP: 59
Spellbook:
1st: Burning Hands, Ray of Enfeeblement, Color Spray, Detect Magic, Grease, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Read Magic, Snowball, Vanish Skill Breakdown:
Total Skill Ranks 2 + 1 Int / Level (+2 Favored Class) (19 total ranks), 10 Background Ranks Acrobatics +8 (3 Dex + 3 CS + 2 Rank), Bluff +7 (1 Cha + 3 CS + 2 Rank + 1 Trait), Climb +6 (2 Str + 3 CS + 1 Rank), Craft (Alchemy) +4 (3 Int + 1 Background Rank), Diplomacy +2 (1 Cha + 1 Rank) Disable Device +7 (3 Dex + 3 CS + 1 Rank + 1 Trait), Escape Artist +8 (3 Dex + 3 CS + 2 Rank), Kn (Arcana) +9 (3 Int + 3 CS + 3 Rank), Kn (Local) +7 (3 Int + 3 CS + 1 Rank) Perception +4 (1 Wis + 1 Rank + 2 Elf), Perform (Strings) +4 (1 Cha + 3 Background Rank), Profession (Gambler) +6 (+1 Wis + 3 CS + 2 Background Rank), Sense Motive +5 (1 Wis + 3 CS + 1 Rank), Sleight of Hand +10 (+3 Dex + 3 CS + 4 Background Rank), Spellcraft +9 (+3 Int + 3 CS + 3 Rank) Stealth +7 (3 Dex + 3 CS + 1 Rank) Non-Crunch Info:
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 118 lbs. Hair Color: Blonde-white Eye Color: Blueish Skin Color: Fawn Important Nouns:
People Sofia Coy: Older sister. Showed great talents with the magicks. Henri was worried about her being too controlled by her parents, she is very gullible and eager to please. Winfried Marchand: Friend from the city. A half-elf who she was good friends with, he would accompany her on adventures through sewers, caves, city streets, etc. General childish business. Soon, though, he outpaced her in aging and went on to become a city guard with little time for her still-teenage hijinks. Anatoly Coy: Younger brother. A fighter and pretty faithful. Henri used to train with him pretty often, and he was pretty demeaning when she’d lose. Still, she cares about him. A little bit. Camille Coy: Mother. Controlling, strict, and very discerning of how other people perceive the family. Not to an evil degree, she’d never do anything wrong, but she likes their status in the world and does her best to raise it through her children. Samuel Coy: Father. Noble through birth, kind but not a great leader. Still, has a decent amount of social acumen that makes most people like him. Ezikiel: Half-brother. Bounty hunter. Was a tryst between her father and a human, but before he met her mother. Kind of unhinged, not sure if it’s the upbringing or his time as an outcast from the family. Scary. Places
The Lonely Swine: A nostalgic place for her, a run-down tavern where she stayed for a week before making the trek to Abbhen. It is also where she had her first tavern brawl. She’s not likely to revisit it, but it’s a nice place in her mind. Pirate’s Port: Where she joined the mercenary gang and first got her blunderbuss. They were rough, but treated her like a member of the family. She stayed there for a significant amount of time working for the mercenary guild, the only other place where she spent more than a year. Things
Tattoo: Henri wanted a tattoo for a long time, but never knew what she would get. When she joined the Kingsnakes, however, she had the perfect opportunity - they all had to have a snake somewhere on their body, but she went with a somewhat obvious wrap around her right upper arm. Now it serves as a sad reminder of what once was. Masterwork Blunderbuss: This hunk of metal was thrust into Henri’s hands on her first job with the Kingsnakes. Given that she only had an elven blade (a very unintimidating one at that), they decided to rough her up a bit and give her something that others could fear. Eventually during her tenure, she grew to like the gun, and eventually paid to have it improved to masterwork. Violin: While she never much cared for the instrument, and her fingers had become so calloused that it actually affected her skill level, there’s something about the instrument that made her calm. Mostly practicing alone in hotel rooms, she very rarely takes it out, and almost never in the presence of another. A reminder, along with her elven curved blade, that not everything about Novadena was bad.
”I’m the best. The best at winning.”:
Born a middle child to a family of wealthy and somewhat noble elves, Henri never really felt like she quite belonged. During the day, she would be schooled by a private professor on history, magic, the church, and more, but her sight always drifted to the window outside of her room at the top floor of the tower. While her parents were pushing her to become a paladin, a wizard, or another great person in the kingdom, she couldn’t help but pull away from their forced legacy. The city, the outside, and adventure called to her, and like a siren, she could only resist it so much. In her early life, she could only get away once or twice before the family sent the guards after her, but slowly and surely, she began to get to an age where they couldn’t keep her inside forever. Immediately after lessons she would walk the streets, watching people, animals, stores, and eventually walking out of the city to enjoy nature. Henri would come back with dirt all over her, grass stains in her dresses, and to the tune of scolding from her mother. She tried to confide in her siblings, but they didn’t understand. They were happy doing what they were doing, magic, skillful combat, learning, and didn’t understand how she could not have a flair for it. The pushing became brutal in her youth - her parents forced lessons daily down her throat, micromanaging everything from her schedule to her diet, and she could find little time to herself - with every new week her free time shrunk, and the lectures grew. She wasn’t good enough. She would never be good enough if she didn’t get her life in order. Did she want to be a failure? She’d never be happy. New skills and projects were forced at her, with little care or interest going back into them. The only thing that ever stuck was her violin lessons, but even when she tried to care about something like that, she found little talent at it. Thoughts pushed through her head, about never finding something she was good at, and how that would doom her forever. Still, she kept trying new things. Exploring new places, sneaking into shops and foreclosed buildings, she ran into another lost soul like herself. While exploring an abandoned building, she heard a cry of pain, and rushed to investigate. A young half-elf was on the ground, a beam of rotting wood pinning his legs and keeping him from moving. Together they managed to lift it, and became fast friends. They began going out together whenever they could, and explored the city at night. This went on for a few years, a weekly routine of sneaking out, and exploring. But, as an elf, her long childhood continued as others grew up beside her, and soon Winfried journeyed with her less and less, and began training more and more. They still saw each other now and then - on the street, mostly, and they simply said hello to each other and continued on. Henri just saw him as another casualty to their society. That was when she knew she had to get out of the city before she became another soulless cog who gave in to her mother’s whims. She would escape - steal as much gold and supplies as she could carry from her family’s treasury, and leave. She wasn’t sure exactly where she would go, but she knew that with perseverance and a lot of walking, she could get there. Her cloak hid her face from the world as she slowly made her way south towards Abbhen. All the cities here were shiny. Too manicured. All they did was remind her of her hometown and her parents. She couldn’t let their words creep back into her mind again! The kingdom of Abbhen, however - filled with smoke, dirt, grit, the history spoke to her and called her to it. She first learned about her penchant for fighting in a bar near the border of the two kingdoms. She had been slowly burning through the money she stole by gambling - though the inns and taverns she stayed at had certainly drained her a bit. She loved playing cards, the feeling of risk and luck and victory coming from a perfectly executed bluff excited her more than sword training ever could. However, what she didn’t realize when she sat down at the gambling table was that she had walked in on a small gang’s card game, and when she came away with most of the money, they were understandably upset. As the barroom brawl started, it quickly began to pull in other patrons to her side - only a few, but it was enough to turn the tide against the gang and send them out of the bar with tails between their legs. And it was the first time Henri had felt real, true cooperation - and the first time she had felt so alive. It was a joyous experience, and in a rush of adrenaline and emotion, she had a short, one-night affair with one of her fellow brawlers. This became her routine across a long set of taverns. The brawl could happen any way - she would often brag and boast to annoy others, along with cheating at cards or or openly bumping into others - making them approach and challenge her. Because of her smaller size and constitution, she would use many dirty tricks and moves to be successful - more often than not she would end up unconscious in an alley, but those times where she won were growing - and on very fortuitous occasions, they would lead to a steamy after-battle celebration with one of the other patrons. It drowned out her inner doubts, for a while at least. But they pushed at the reaches of her mind, and she slowly craved more and harder fights - by the time she got through Abbhen to Pirate’s Port, she was in need of a real fight to the death - and a local gang could oblige. They needed an enforcer - a brute. Someone to stand by and look intimidating, while they shook down a citizen or two for money. They handed her a shotgun to compensate for her less-than-intimidating stature, and she immediately joined them. They were mostly mercenaries with less of a moral code - while she didn’t like killing people, she never drew the final breath herself, and what she really loved was the sensation of winning a fight for her life at the hands of someone she was just better than. She loved winning. Their machinations didn’t last long, however - being such a small gang of mercenaries, they would invariably run up against a challenge that was too much for them, and they ran against it hard. Tracking another gang of more notorious criminals, they were ambushed in the woods - a deadly crossfire rained down upon them as Henri’s gang scrambled for cover, and it was only her distance from them and liberal use of her ranged weapon that Henri managed to get out of it alive. By the end of the fight, there were over 20 corpses on the ground, and Henri was hit again with every doubt that her parents had given her with the force of a bullet. This isn’t what she wanted. She just wanted fun and games and… if she killed people they would be bad people and the good guys would win and… She left in disgrace, nursing her damaged ego and personality heavily as she drank her way back through Abbhen. Slowly, she regained her composure, and her love for the fight returned. But buried deep down, she could see it - the dead bodies, and her own, bloody hands. She wouldn’t just be a fighter, she’d be smart about it. That’s what they’d never expect. She’d become the best at it, the best at fighting and shooting, and winning. She wouldn’t lose. The world couldn’t let her - it was her destiny, and the thing that would keep her happy for the rest of her naturally long life. She knew it.
”The Lonely Dirge”:
Henrietta sighed, bringing the violin up under her chin. After spending 2 hours trying to tune the damned thing, she could finally start practicing. Gently, softly, she placed the bow against the strings and began to play. A sober tune rang out through her small room, bouncing about the stone walls and back into her ears.
She ran her eyes over the notes on the music sheet, and the tune through her head. The sound was clumsy - the elegance that her teacher had shown in the last week was gone from her own rendition. As she hastily swung the stick back and forth, she could hear herself slowly losing the tune - it dropped in and out before her fingers slipped completely and she abruptly stopped. A rough sigh was released from Henrietta’s throat, as she slumped down onto the stool in front of the short, wooden stand that held the notes for her to play. She wanted to smash the thing. It was elegantly carved and a beautiful shade of red that could almost be confused for blood from a distance. But she didn’t care about that, she just wanted it gone. Make her mother buy another one if she was so keen on her youngest daughter learning an instrument. She tossed the wooden thing on her bed and stood, walking over to the window and peering out into the courtyard. Dusk. The red and purple light of the sun played out over their well-manicured lawn as the shadows grew from small splashes of darkness into a giant wave of night. She could see her brother out there, sparring. Juking, moving, bouncing back and forth with a grace that Henrietta herself had failed to achieve. At least he was getting some action out of his lessons. Henrietta glanced back at the violin her mother had purchased for her. It really was almost a piece of art. She supposed it would be a shame to smash it, if someone had worked so hard on it. She picked it up, and gently brought it back to her chin. She placed the bow against the strings again, and she began to play. |
