Kohana the Dead's page

VALUE 4,000gp SLOT shoulders CL 3rd WEIGHT 5 lbs. AURA faint abjuration
This heavy cloak is crafted from shaggy white yeti fur. When the cloak’s hood is pulled up over the wearer’s head, it takes on a semblance of its arctic namesake’s fearsome visage.
Northern warriors value its ability to ward against the chill of winter, as well as the protection it provides in combat. The cloak of the yeti provides a constant endure elements effect in cold weather (it has no effect in hot weather). In battle, the cloak wraps around the wearer, granting a +1 natural armor bonus. In addition, with the hood drawn over the wearer’s head, the cloak grants a +2 competence bonus on Intimidate skill checks.

Ceaerb was born of the First World, son of Caullyn, a Red Cap and his mother, a Gnome Wood-Witch. His first memories are of roaming the streets of Nithveil, early visions of the wondrous sights and sounds. Mostly left to his own devices growing up, Cearb grew up in a near feral state. His mother seemed to care little for matters of the flesh and his father traveled much, a Guardian of the Grungir and restless in nature.

It is the share of this restlessness that led Cearb to his current exile. Rumors were spreading of an Irrisan war party, and Cearb's father was tasked to the defense force. Catching sight of his Father's red cap, with its pinch of wold hair tassel, amongst the assembly of treants, trolls, and fey animals that set out for the fight.

Marveling at the sight of the fey troop, Cearb followed, at an age not fully realizing the rules of Nithveil. He followed the force to the Thundering River where they joined an uneasy band of Ulfen warriors. A force of Irrisan witches and their minions operated with impunity on the east bank while an uneasy truce seemed to extend over the group of Men and Fey unable to cross. The standoff lasted several days, some of which Cearb wandered off, bored by the lack of war. That was until he heard the yelling. He saw his father stomp from the camp and approach the roiling river. Laughing the Ulfen followed. They tossed their shields, one by one upon the water, and his father leap from each to make his way across. Into the quiet witch camp he sped and soon calls of alarm were raised.

Caullyn reappeared spattered in blood with several Winter witches in pursuit. From wands of blue, they shot blasts of sleet that Caullyn dodged, each time taking one more step into the river. The witches kept up their barrage until finally Caullyn stepped from the newly created ice bridge, back to the shore on his side of the river. A way across established, the horde of Men and Creatures charged the witches forces and a great battle ensued. His father seemed not to rejoin the fight, until it reached its desperate peak. He raced back a cross and nearly reached the Irrisan leader, but she froze him in his tracks. Others began to fall, and their steel began to fail in the cold. Elfar the Ulfen leader snatched the frozen Redcap and used his father's outstretched blade to fatally stab the witch while she uttered her last fatal curse.

The aftermath saw the witches forces shattered and broken, the Ulfen men in pursuit, but of the Fey, a few trow, treants, and animals licking their wounds slunk back into the forest by ones and two.

Once things quieted, Cearb went in search of his father, finding his shattered frozen corpse and some ways off his boots frozen to the ground. It was then the realization of his exile became known, for without an army to follow, Cearb did not know the way back to Nithveil.

Giving his Father to the Forest, Cearb made his way to LostHome, a refugee himself. He now lives a wandering life on the outskirts of town, watching the wood, waiting and watching for the return of those responsible for his exile and hoping one day to find his way back home.

Excitable to the point of distraction, Cearb finds wandering the Forest more to his liking rather then dodging the footfalls of the large Ulfen in the town. He has come to serve a role very similar to his that of his Father, Cearb has taken to serving as an agent between the Ulfen and the concerned Fey in the Forest edge. He also scouts for the town watching its hinterland for signs of Witches. Although extremely short, he does not see height as a physical measure of a man and takes no insult or slight easily. Although none among the humans would call the strange Gnome a friend, there are those who appreciate his efforts and by showing respect, Cearb will raise a horn with them on occasion.

A bit of his father and mother, though, is always there. Cearb seems to lack a full set of emotion and compassion. He does not anger quickly, but violence is always close, not needing a reason to rear. When he does act out, it can be for a slight on his person or a simple misunderstanding. Diffusing and distraction can often set Cearb on a different path, avoiding an episode.

On his wanders, he often carves as he walks. With his set of knives, he carves woodland scenes in antlers and tusks he comes across. By trading these, he always finds the towns meadhall welcoming, if not always understanding.

A willingness to try anything twice. Anything that gets the better of Cearb, he will attempt again, knowing now he will overcome any tricky element that foiled him the first time.

A restlessness that sees him never sleep in the same place twice. Always on the lookout for new experiences and never tiring of pursuing his current interest, until distracted. His wanderlust provides a near immunity to whatever foul magics empowers the Bleaching.

A carelessness that at times can endanger those around him. He does not have the empathy to thinks of others' safety when in pursuit of whatever is momentarily a concern. Raised among careless and fickle Fey have left their mark.

A reluctance to enter water and living in bowers and abandoned animal dens leaves Cearb in a state of unkempt. His hair, has taken to resemble the spike's of a hedgehog's hide, laced with fur and twigs. The remnants of clothes he wears are held together with lichen and moss.v

Cearb stands on the short side of 3 feet tall, that is boosted by the large boots he wears. His brownish skin and eyes, blend with his dirty skin and hair. His hair has hardened into a spiked mass, partially resembling a hedgehog pelt. His clothes are canvas and furs seemingly held together with a scattering of moss and lichens.

Knive handles protrude from numerous places such as his boots, belt, hair, and he is often just carrying one of his bent serrated blades, picking at his teeth, scratching his back, or working distractedly at a piece of scrimshaw.

Cearb wears his Father's frost-scarred boots. They are slightly oversized for him, but Cearb has learned to compensate. The boots were found (along with just the feet) frozen to the remains of an ice bridge just before it broke up and floated downstream after the battle of ShieldBridge (see below).