Irian Du'Lac's page

About Irian Du'Lac

Initiative +1, Perception +7, Speed = 30 ft/ 20ft fully loaded

Defense
HP = 10 (8 + 1 con +1 favoured class)
AC = 16/17 (10 + 2 dex + 4 Chain shirt/ +1 dodge), Touch=12, FF= 14
CMD = 13 (0 BAB + 1 STR + 2 DEX + 0 Size + 10)
Fort = 3 Ref = 3 Will = 5

Combat

BAB = 0
CMB = 1 (0BAB + 1 STR + 0 Size)

Shortbow +2,(1d6/x3), piercing, 60ft range, 50 arrows;
Shortbow (within 30ft) +3 (1d6+1/x3)
Morning Star +1 (1d8+1/x2), Bludgeon or pierce.
Dagger +1(1d4+1/X2 19-20)

Skills
6 class, 1 Human

Heal = 7 (1 rank, 3 wis, 3 class)
Knowledge (Dungeoneering) = 4 (1 rank, 3 class)
Knowledge (Religion) = 4 (1 rank, 3 class)
Stealth = 6/4(1 rank, 2 dex, 3 class/ -2 in armour)
Perception = 7 (1 rank, 3 wis, 3 class)
Bluff = 4 (1 rank, 3 class)
Sense Motive = 8 (1 rank, 3 wis, 3 class, 1 stern gaze)

Feats
1. Point blank shot
3. Dodge

Traits

Class Abilities

Domain - Heal (Granted as penance for the killings he comitted before Pharasma claimed him) 1d4hp to touched person below 0hp.
Judgement - 1/day (sacred bonus)
Monster Lore (+3 to knowledge checks identifiy weaknesses of monsters)
Stern Gaze (+1 intimidate and sense motive)

Spells
0 - Known acid splash, disrupt undead, resistance, light
1st (2/day) - Known Cure light wounds, divine favour

Equipment Load = 57.5 (43 light/86 medium/130 heavy)

Shortbow(30g; 2lb), 40 arrows(2g; 6lb), Morning Star(8g; 6lb); Dagger(2g; 1lb), Chain Shirt (100g; 25lb), Backpack (2gp; 2lb), Bedroll (1sp; 5lb), belt pouch (1gp; 1/2lb), waterskin (1gp; 4lb), Holy symbol Silver (20gp; 1lb), Travelors outfit (1gp; 5lb)

Gold Remaining 2gp 9sp

Background
Irian was a warrior and rogue agent for a number of years, fighting for most anything and anyone as long as the money was good. A contract he took with a man named Lefey ended with Irian killing a holy man who worshipped the death goddess. The man's death had been messy, and as Irian knelt by him to finish the job, his victim had grasped his shirt and stared deeply into his eyes "Finish my work" was all he had managed before his last breath bubbled otut from bloodied lips.

The words and the look haunted Irian all night, and a vision of carrion birds circling his own corpse lying in a darkened alley caused him to wake in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat. The vision, and his growing sense of unease forced him to take more care than usual when he went to meet his employer the next day. The men who laid in ambush for him were surprised when he arrived along the roof tops instead of the agreed location. He had killed at least one of them before being forced to flee, but during the fight he had discovered a presence within him he hadn't known before.

Thinking it best to leave the city he attempted to purchase passage on the next ship out of town, but found his path always blocked by red tape or bad luck. What was worse, a growing need to track down LeFey and destroy him was eating away at Irian until he finally could stand it no more. He succumbed ot the urge and tracked the man down in his cellar one rainy evening, to find him conducting necromantic rituals on the street urchins that seemed to plague this city. His death had been easy, with the cold steel of Irians sword slipping through his chest as LeFey gasped in surprise. As the man died, a sense of righteousness filled him, something he had never felt in the few years of mercenary work he had done before. He had changed in that moment, driven now to ensure the enemies of the godess could not interfere with the rightful process of death and the passing of the spirit into the next realm.

Irian travels now where his godess urges him, still struggling to come to terms with the powers she has granted him, and never fully understanding what he is meant to be doing until he finds the enemies she has sent him to destroy. Three times now he has killed for her, and each case was differnt. A beggar in one town who had taken to poisoning the other poor folk in his area so his pickings could grow, a guardsmen the next town who was allowing grave robbers free access to the local tombs, and most recently a merchants daughter who had begun dabbling in the arts macarbe. Each time he felt the riteous burn that his goddess had approved, but his actions had left him unwelcome in at least one town he had worked, forcing him to leave in the dead of night so those he had angered could not exact their vengence. Now he finds himself in Ustalav, again drawn by the unknown will of the godess who now possesses his soul.