Marcos Farabellus

Javor Durrandon's page

46 posts. Alias of Kubular.


Full Name

Javor Durrandon

Race

Human

Classes/Levels

Monk 1 | AL: LG | HP: 20/20 l AC: 15 (Mt. Sta.: 19; Sh. 21) l F: +7, R: +5, W: +7 l Per: +5 l Movement: 25' l Hero Points: 1 | Condition: None | Buffs: None| Explore Activity:

Gender

Male

Size

Medium

Age

27

Alignment

LG

Deity

Irori/Torag

Languages

Common, Dwarven

Occupation

City Guard

Strength 18
Dexterity 10
Constitution 14
Intelligence 10
Wisdom 14
Charisma 12

About Javor Durrandon

Appearance:

Stat Block:
Javor Durrandon | Monk 1
_______________________
LG | Medium | Human | Versatile Heritage | Humanoid
Perception +5;
Languages Common, Dwarven
Skills Acrobatics +3, Athletics +7, Diplomacy +4, Lore: Legal +3, Lore: Absalom +3, Lore: Guard +3, Medicine +5, Survival +5
Str +4, Dex +0, Con +2, Int +0, Wis +2, Cha +1
Items Unarmored, Backpack, Baton, Chalk (10), Clothing (Ordinary), Cookware, Crowbar, Handcuffs (2) Healer's Tools, Torch, Climbing Kit, Steel Shield (Hardness 5, HP 20, BT 10), Shiny shiny badge
__________________________
AC 15 (+19 w/ Mountain Stance, +21 w/ both shield and Mountain Stance), Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +7
HP 20
__________________________
Speed 25 feet
Melee Special Unarmed Falling Stone +7 (Forceful, Nonlethal, Unarmed), Damage 1d8+4 (B)
Melee Clan Dagger +7 (Agile, Dwarf, Parry, Uncommon, Versatile B), Damage 1d4+4 (P)
Mountain Stance (Stance) Requirements You are unarmored and touching the ground. You enter the stance of an implacable mountain—a technique first discovered by dwarven monks—allowing you to strike with the weight of an avalanche. The only Strikes you can make are falling stone unarmed attacks. These deal 1d8 bludgeoning damage; are in the brawling group; and have the forceful, nonlethal, and unarmed traits. While in Mountain Stance, you gain a +4 item bonus to AC and a +2 circumstance bonus to any defenses against being Shoved or Tripped. You have a Dexterity modifier cap to your AC of +0, meaning you don’t add your Dexterity to your AC, and your Speeds are all reduced by 5 feet. The item bonus to AC from Mountain Stance is cumulative with armor potency runes on your explorer’s clothing, mage armor, and bracers of armor.
Flurry of Blows (Flourish, Monk) Make two unarmed Strikes. If both hit the same creature, combine their damage for the purpose of resistances and weaknesses. Apply your multiple attack penalty to the Strikes normally. As it has the flourish trait, you can use Flurry of Blows only once per turn.
Additional Feats Adopted Ancestry, Hobnobber, Unburdened Iron
Additional Specials Adopted Ancestry (Dwarf), Powerful Fist
Background Political Scion

Background:

"My name is Javor Durrandon. Six years ago I was left for dead in the wilderness by thugs. I was saved by the dwarves of the Highstone clan who taught me their ways. Now I've returned to Absalom and I can no longer ignore the injustices that happen here. I've joined the City Guard to start my path to saving the city, much to the displeasure of my father."

As the heir to the Durrandon tin fortune, Javor's disappearance and subsequent return had caused quite a stir in the gossippy apartments of the Petal District. Tylan (the Durrandon patriarch) was relieved and angry to find his son not only alive, but in incredible health. He was even more upset when he found out his son wanted to join the guard. Still attempting to salvage that disastrous career move, he set Javor up with the highly First Guard in an administrative position.

Unwilling to exploit his high status above the common folk of the city, Javor moved to a lowly assignment with the newly formed unit of Edgewatch. Furious, his father cut him off from his wealth, which stings a bit, but he's learned to manage without fruit tarts and caviar.

The nobles he used to accompany remember him as a spoiled playboy with a cushy career ahead of him and are shocked at the aescetic monk he has become. Growing his beard and murmuring his odd devotions. Spending time with the peasants and the dwarves. "He's all but become a vagrant," they say. "Oh poor Tylan, his firstborn heir has become a bit touched in the head hasn't he?"

Javor's desire his to fix the rot in the city, starting with himself and now the guard. But a sip of elven vintage here and a taste of jalmerian cocoa there can't be all bad, can it? Just a taste, that's all. And it would be impolite not to drink in the company of fine dwarves. He definitely won't let himself get out of control.
______________________

Flaw:
Just a taste: Javor has a bad habit of overindulging that might be open to exploitation after having repressed it for so long.

Also he's... pretty bad with money having not had to worry about it for his whole life.
______________________

Prologue:
I’m a foreigner in my own city. I thought as I paced the cobbles in the spattered rain. I scanned the grotesque display of wealth that surrounded my childhood. The Petals district was extravagant with its beautiful cobblestone streets, magical lamp posts of wrought iron, ostentatious houses and apartments with decorated walls and manicured gardens and lawns. I quickened my stride toward my destination, ignoring the overelaborate trimmings of this place. I composed myself when I could see it coming over the hill at Hippogriff road. I couldn’t read it from there, but I knew what it said.

“FIRST GUARD” And in smaller letters beneath it read, “Absalom Petals District Department office”

I pushed the heavy oaken door open, rain dripping from my cloak as I entered the large foyer. I’ve seen the dwarves carve their own homes, and they would have scoffed at the sheer amount of wasted space. I doffed my cloak and started taking it to the coat closet, but I was obstructed by Mr. Byrne. Byrne was the office’s butler and had thin grey hair, jowls like a turkey and eyes that looked like they could pop out of his wrinkly skull. Byrne had also grown plump in his years of service to the First Guard apparently. His capacity as a butler meant he likely never missed meals and rarely had to perform any grueling or dangerous labor.

“I’ll have that put that away for you sir.” He said with a curt, professional smile, “No sense in having to trouble yourself.” He looked down a hallway at a young boy who probably should have been minding the coat check but was cleaning the wall and clicked his tongue at him. The boy nearly jumped and started to hurry over to Mr. Byrne. I interjected, “No need, I’d prefer to do it myself.” The butler replied adamantly, “Sir! I will not hear about it, this is our duty, you tend to yours.” I sighed, unwilling to argue the point further. I tipped the boy a gold piece quietly with a wink as I handed him the cloak. His eyes went wide. Was that too much? Too little? That was probably the cost of one banana, wasn’t it? I should probably learn how to manage money after today, it’s likely Father isn’t going to take this well.

I start toward the labyrinthine hallways toward my end goal, but Mr. Byrne insists on escorting me. I supposed he took pride in his work, as evidenced by the offense he took when I suggested putting away my own cloak. He was otherwise amicable and helpful iin a way that the old me would never have appreciated, or even noticed. The hallways were richly appointed with a warm cherry mahogany floor, gold trimmings and crown moulding, paintings, ceramics, detailed maps of Golarion and other expensive objects to prove the distinction of the place. The Highstone Masters would have had several words to say about the display here, grotesque being tamest among them!

We arrived at the door appointed with the sign “Capt. Erebus Brightlancer” in gold flowy lettering and blue paint. I was pretty sure that wasn’t his real name, and I was equally sure he made it up himself. Still, he was my captain for the time being, and I needed his help for the moment. Mr. Byrne knocked at the door for me and announced, “Erm, Mr. Javor Durrandon to see you, Captain Brightlancer.” If he felt ridiculous at all saying the name out loud, he was pretty good at hiding it.

After a beat from the other side of the door I heard, “Let him in.” The inside of the Captain’s office was no less ostentatious than the rest of the building. Solid wood desk, books that he’d probably never read lined the shelves, a drink table with several crystal glasses, one of them used even though it was still midmorning. I knew he wasn’t working cases through the night. This wasn’t that sort of department, and the Captain wasn’t that sort of detective.

“Durrandon,” Brightlancer spoke, facing the glass window behind his desk. He was holding a glass in one hand, whose contents I couldn’t see from the angle I was standing. Brightlancer looked like the sort of man you might expect to be in charge of a city guard. Square jaw, thick blonde hair, broad shouldered and muscular, but just aged enough to make him look distinguished. He spoke slowly, but I detected a slight slur in his elocution. He sighed, “What brings you to my office today?”

“Sir, I’m very grateful for the opportunity to have worked with the First Guard here-”

“Cut that out.” He swatted in my direction with his free hand, “No pleasantries, why are you in my office this early?” He sounded tired. Maybe drunk. Probably both.

I chose my words carefully, “Okay… with the upcoming Radiant Festival the Precipice Quarter is experiencing a revival. There’s been a call for a new unit and I wanted to ask for your recommendation.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me, “Yeah? Why’s that? This job is going to set your career for life. Kid like youse…” he paused to compose himself, “A young man like you would only be here for a feather in your cap. What’s the prestige of going to the Precipice?”

“I’m not here for the prestige.” I nearly growled, “I wanted to help people. I wanted to help the city. That’s why I joined the guard. With all due respect, working at a desk, however nice, wasn’t what I had in mind. And it’s made me realize… that I want- no- I need to progress based on my own merits, not on my Father’s name.”

Brightlancer turned to look at me fully. He had a baffled look about his face as he scrutinized me. I noted his crystal glass was empty. He looked me in the eye for several more moments until he decided, “Do you really believe that?” I nodded. He ambled easily over to the drink table, but didn’t pour anything, then mulled over his next thought and said, “Your father won’t be happy.”

“No. I don’t think so.” I replied. He grinned. I grinned back. But I quickly felt my brow furrow in concern, “You aren’t worried he’ll try to blame you? Retaliate?”

“I’ve been playing the game for a while. I’ve got a favor or two lying about. Other patrons in my corner. He can’t come after me.” He remarked nonchalantly. “I don’t expect anything from you kid, just don’t lose faith.” He poured a drink. Then another and handed it to me.

I smelled the smokey liquid. Dwarven whisky, I noted the oak and hickory. “Janderoff... ‘08? That was a brilliant year! when I was 15...” I trailed off, “Well I enjoyed it. But… perhaps I shouldn’t, I’m still on-”

“Drink.” he grunted. I swirled the brown liquor in my glass as if contemplating it, then did as he bade. Doubtless I shouldn’t have consumed it. Then again, it would have been impolite not to, and Captain Brightlancer proved himself a competent ally after I’d misjudged him as a bit of a cad.

Brightlancer raised his glass in a toast and imbibed the potent spirit, “Congratulations Durrandon. You’re the next recruit for Edgewatch.”