Hyglak Lebeda's page

Hyglak Lebeda
Male Tiefling Ranger 1/ Inquisitor of Abadar 1 (Gestalt)
LN Outsider (native)
Init +3; Senses Perception +6, Darkvision 60ft

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Defense
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AC 19, Touch 13, Flat-Footed 16
HP 12 (1d10+2)
Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +4
Resistance to Cold, Fire, and Electricity 5

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Offense
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Speed: 30 ft (20ft with armor)
Attacks: Claw +3 (1d4+2) and Claw +3 (1d4+2)
-or-
Longbow +4 (1d8)
-or-
Longsword +3 (1d8+2)

Special Attacks
Favored Enemy: Human +2, Judgement 1/day

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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 11
Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 16
Feats: Power Attack, Skill God: Perception
Traits: Adopted:Noble Born(Lebeda), Ease Of Faith, Charming
Skills: Bluff +2, Climb +2, Diplomacy +5, Intimidate +1, Knowledge(Local) +6, (Nature) +6, (Religion) +6, Perception +6, Ride +7, Sense Motive +3, Spellcraft +6, Stealth +9, Survival +6
Languages: Common, Skald, Infernal, Draconic, Elven

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Special Abilities
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SQ Track +1, Wild Empathy +1

Domain: Nobility, Stern Gaze +1, Monster Lore, Orisons

Inspiring Word (5/day)

Skilled(+2 Bluff and Stealth)

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Spells
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Inquisitor
0th - Acid Splash, Create Water, Detect Magic, Sift
1st (2/day)- Divine Favor, Cure Light Wounds

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Equipment
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Longbow, 40 Arrows, Longsword, Breastplate, Explorer's Outfit, Silver Holy Symbol

Heavy Wooden Shield

Backpack, Bedroll, Blanket, 10 Days Rations, 50ft Silk Rope, Grappling Hook, Mapcase, 5 Sheets Parchment, Sewing Needle, 3 Torches

Belt Pouch, Chalk, Charcoal, Flint and Steel, Material Components Pouch

Light Horse(wartrained), Riding Saddle, Saddlebags, 5 Days Feed

50gp

Hyglak of House Lebeda knelt at the altar of Abadar, he wore only his small clothes and the cold of the northern winter bit his skin turning it red. Muttering under his breath he could hear the sound of activity in the courtyard, his half-brother would arrive soon. Smiling, he rose and dressed himself choosing some warm bear furs to cover his green and brown hued jerkin and trousers with a good, well worn pair of boots that he had cleaned and shined in the pre-dawn hours before running the boys through their sword and bow drills. He went down from his room in the northernmost tower to where his brother's carriage was just pulling in. Keeping to the gravel path he moved to await Iacobus as he stepped down from the carriage. His brother had aged in the months he had been in Restov tending to the main family's business there, this winter was not being kind to his bones, his limp was pronounced but when he saw Hyglak he straightened and they threw arms around each other.
"How was your trip big brother?" Hyglak asked, mirth in his eyes.
"Difficult and tiresome, these old bones aren't built for this anymore. But I am glad to see you Hyg." His wrinkled face beamed, "And how are my grandchildren? Been taking good care of them?"
"They're good Cob, your namesake is learning his swordwork well, I have the bruises to prove it. How about my nephew and nieces?"
"They take to New Stetven much better than I, come brother let's get out of this cold and around a fire." The elder brother led the way into the hall and Hyglak followed him.

It was the small hours of the morning, and in the firelight each of Iacobus's many wrinkles stood out. Hyglak was as smooth faced as when they were young, stealing kisses from the girls at the tavern, though he had developed a fair bit of stubble over the course of the day. Where one was grey haired and ancient the other could be confused for an elder grandson, that is except for his clawed hands and blood-red eyes. Hyglak was the product of their father's second marriage, a young Chelish noble woman of a minor house. Had it been known that Hyglak would be born a plane-touched such a marriage would never of happened, as it stood Hyglak had been forced to renounce his claim to so much as a branch house the day he came of age. Despite his fiendish heritage Hyglak was loved by his elder brother and that had kept him a productive member of the house. The younger brother had learned a degree of skill with the tongue and quill in addition to pursuits in hunting and tracking, for the last twenty years he had acted as the branch house's warden and marshall, finding criminals and game alike.

Iacobus's hand caressed the lanceboard piece before him, a pawn crafted of rosewood, "There is a war coming brother."
"Rumors have reached me here, is it as bad as it sounds?"
"It could be, a number of the swordlords are preparing a daring strategy to secure Brevoy's position should civil conflict begin." Iacobus moved the pawn into position and leaned back awaiting his brother's move.
"What could this strategy be? I thought that if Issia starts fighting Rostland the political manuevers would make discerning sides difficult?" Hyglak hovered his hand over his rook, eyeing the game board intently.
"There is a plan to send people in to secure trade in the Stolen lands, and possibly establish buffer or puppet states there."
Hyglak's eyes flicked up away from the gameboard and studied his brothers face, "And where do we fit in this brother?"
"I want you on one of the expeditions, this one to the Greenbelt. It would give our house influence in the region and if your youthful face is any indication it would be for quiet some time."
Hyglak moved his ebon rook and claimed one of his brother's knights, "Why do you really want me to go Cob?"
"You'll never inherit here, and while my children love you the main house is not thrilled with your presence in Brevoy. After my death I'm concerned what might happen to you, but down south they would have little say and you could make yourself a noble, ruler even." Iacobus smiled at his younger brother and moved his queen.
Hyglak rose and kissed his brother on the forehead, "I'll make you proud, I'll leave for Restov in the morning." Hyglak left the hall and went to his tower to pack.
A single tear rolled down the old man's cheek, "Checkmate, I'll miss you Hyg."

Hyglak stands a bit on the taller side, he's fit but lean. He keeps his blonde hair trimmed and tries to keep his face clean shaven in the Taldan fashion. His eyes are red like the sunset and his hands are clawed, though not particularly long or wicked looking they are clearly useful in battle. He wears subdued colors and styles most of the time but is not a stranger to finer court clothes. He smells of mint but it hard to pinpoint the source, some suggest his ancestry, others think he chews it when no one is looking. He moves with a gentle but brusque manner and possesses more grace than his frame would indicate.