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Statistics
-------------------- Str 18, Dex 16, Con 11, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 8
Base Atk +3; CMB +7; CMD 20
Feats
… Two-Weapon Fighting Off-hand attack as bonus action. -2/-2 penalty with light weapons.
… Double Slice Add your Strength bonus to damage rolls made with your off-hand weapon.
… (Weapon Training Talent)Weapon Focus (Shortsword) +1 attack bonus with shortswords.
Traits
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Special Abilities
-------------------- Ferocity Orcs possess the ferocity ability which allows them to remain conscious and continue fighting even if their hit point totals fall below 0. Orcs are still staggered at 0 hit points or lower and lose 1 hit point each round as normal.
Sneak Attack +2d6 damage when flanking or target is denied DEX bonus.
Trapfinding A rogue adds 1/2 her level to Perception skill checks made to locate traps and to Disable Device skill checks (minimum +1). A rogue can use Disable Device to disarm magic traps.
Trap Sense +1 bonus on Reflex saves made to avoid traps and a +1 dodge bonus to AC against attacks made by traps.
Evasion If you make a successful Reflex saving throw against an attack that normally deals half damage on a successful save, you instead take no damage. Evasion can be used only if the rogue is wearing light armor or no armor. A helpless rogue does not gain the benefit of evasion.
Uncanny Dodge You cannot be caught flat-footed, nor can you lose your Dex bonus to AC if the attacker is invisible. You still lose your Dexterity bonus to AC if immobilized. A rogue with this ability can still lose her Dexterity bonus to AC if an opponent successfully uses the feint action (see Combat) against her.
Rogue Talents
… Weapon Training Gain the Weapon Focus (Shortsword) feat.
… Fast Stealth This ability allows a rogue to move at full speed using the Stealth skill without penalty.
I raise my blades in cross formation to block the knight’s overhead strike. His blade is caught between mine. I catch his stare through the thin slit of his ornate helm and am fueled by the palpable fear within. In a single swift motion, I thrust my blades to the side, casting his sword to the ground and press forward with Knightsend, my ancestral blade, piercing through his leathers and into his soft insides. Kicking his body off the blood-soaked blade, I turn and unsheath a dagger. Letting instincts take over, I launch it through the air for the mounted soldier. He is taken off his mount as the dagger plants itself cleanly between helm and shoulderguard - a fatal blow to the neck. The horse continues its route past my comrade and he turns to see the would-be assailant clinging to his neck, choking on his own blood. He lets out a frenzied warcry and I reply in kind as we charge into the remaining troops. Many orcs have died at the hands of the human crusade, but I intend to turn the tide.
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Statistics
-------------------- Str 13, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 9, Wis 12, Cha 14
Base Atk +0; CMB +1; CMD 14
Feats
… Two-Weapon Fighting
… Weapon Focus (Sickle)
Traits
… Convincing Liar - +1 to bluff checks
… Crowd Dodger - You gain a +2 trait bonus on Acrobatics checks to move through another creature’s space and to avoid attacks of opportunity for leaving a threatened square.
Skills
… [1] Appraise +3
… [1] Bluff +7
… [1] Disable Device +7
… [1] Escape Artist +7
… [1] Knowledge (Local) +3
… [1] Perception +5
… [1] Sense Motive +5
… [1] Sleight of Hand +7
… [1] Stealth +3
Languages Common
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Special Abilities
-------------------- Sneak Attack +1d6
Trapfinding +1 to Perception skill checks made to locate traps and to Disable Device skill checks. A rogue can use Disable Device to disarm magic traps.
Story:
Conall Hatchet was born and raised in Riddleport. His father was a tradesmen and often spent months away at sea. His mother taught elementary courses for the children of wealthy families. In a city such as Riddleport, Conall neglected his studies to involve himself with the goings on of the busy docks. From a young age, he would sit in the harbor and watch as the large vessels crept over the horizons and docked before him. He was a small and nimble child and would dart through the crowd and onto the offloading ships where he would pilfer miscellaneous goods from the crew. When he would return home with new trinkets to add to his collection (among such things as an array of compasses, novelty daggers, an assortment of small lockboxes, even a journal belonging to a notorious pirate), his mother would scold him and plead him to return to his studies. But she was off too kind a heart to punish him truly, and his father was too often out of the picture.
As he grew older, and his size no longer afforded him to walk the docks unnoticed, he began taking a more daring approach. Pretending to be a member of the crew. He was only called on his bluff a twice. The first was trying to gain access to a foreign spicer’s ship, who knew his crew in and out and had his brutish enforces toss him into the harbor waters. The second, however, he was less fortunate. Conall had learned to distinguish the various ships - where they were from, whose flag was whose, trade ships from travel ships - yet one evening a new ship had pulled into the harbor. Its plank were hewn from a dark wood, its sails cut from a navy cloth and the crew was a silent and burish lot. Conall quickly descended from his perch on the rooftops, overwhelmed with curiosity about what they had stowed away. Despite the obvious fact that he looked nothing like the rest of the crew, he figured the best approach was to act casual and stride aboard.
As he walked the ramp onto the ship, he passed two musclebound and scarred men hefting large crates overhead. They eyed him as he passed but made no protest. Once aboard, Conall shifted through the busy crew and made his way into the lower cabins. He could smell the heavy scent of ale and rum permeating from the shipboards themselves. He slipped into an empty room, outfitted with a triple bunk bed, a desk and three large storage boxes. Pulling his reliable set of tools that he keeps tucked in his boots, Conall began to pick one of the large chests. His hands worked feverishly as the crew’s heavy footsteps passed by in the hall outside. With a familiar click, the lock was undone and the lid thrown open. Conall couldn’t believe what was inside. A brilliant glow of gold, silver and jewels and glistened before him. He reach in and pulled out a human skull. The teeth were replaced with an assortment of gemstones, the eye sockets filled with large round garnets and the skull itself seemed to be dipped in gold. He stuffed the skull in his satchel along with a handful of coins before turning to retreat back to his home.
His heart sank as he turned to find the grim scowl of who he could only assume was the captain. He wore a thick black beard and long wiry hair streaked with silver. His lips peeled back to reveal a rotten smile. ”So ye fancy yerself a member o me crew, eh?” His heavy boots drummed on the hollow floor boards as he approached. A crowd began to draw in the hall. His menacing smile turned into a furious scowl. ”A puny imp like ye could ne’er be one of us,” he spit. He pulled out an old and worn dagger with a gilded hilt, the blade was red with rust. With a swift slash, the captain cut the shoulder strap of his satchel. It dropped to the ground, spilling the skull and coin. ”Oy! That's me shit he had in his bags!” shouted one of the crew, stepping into the room. In an instant, Conall was slammed face first into the desk. The captain grabbed the boys wrist and pulled it out flat on the table. Conall watched, crying and begging as the rusty knife was lowered onto his small finger and pressed through flesh and bone. Conall, writhing in pain and agony, managed to pull free and barrelled through the doorway of onlookers. They were overcome with laughter as he fled. Departing the ship, he could hear the captain call out from the deck, ”If me or me crew catch you on these docks again boy, we’ll cut you apart piece by piece!”
Conall returned home as fast as he could. Blood trailing throughout the house, he quickly placed an iron poker in the roaring fire and began chugging his father’s rum. Once the poker was red hot, he placed it to his finger, searing the wound and stopping the bleeding. With an unsteady hand, he took to writing a farewell letter to his parents, as it was clear he would never be safe in the city again. He took a few knives, his father’s old armor and a sack of goods to last him on the road. He slipped his way onto a departing caravan and never looked back. He road out the journey without a destination in mind, hoping to find someplace quiet and out of sight. After a couple days on the road, the caravan stopped in a small town called Mulberry End. It was quiet, mostly miners and farmers. It was here that he’d start a new life free from crime. It wasn’t long before he had a job as a farmhand, working the fields harvesting wheat. It was brutal work compared to thievery, but it felt good and most importantly - safe. It had been a few years now, Conall had just turned eighteen. He boarded with the farm owners in their stable, rather than taking full pay and made a comfortable residence in the loft. His pay was enough to cover basic needs and barely any more.
But Conall was growing bored. The adventurous side in him always calling out…
