About Makoa Grimscar"Makoa Grimscar"
Character Stats:
Languages: Common; Orc; Polyglot
Feats: Power Attack Traits: Reactionary (+2 Initiative); Boarded In The Mwangi Expanse (Polyglot, +1 Know: Nature) Favored Class: Barbarian (+1 Rage Round/Day) Racial Abilities:
Skills:
Adventuring Skills:
Intimidate: +4 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Cha) Perception: +4 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Wis) Survival: +4 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Wis) Use Magic Device: +4 (1 Rank, 3 Class, 0 Cha) Background Skills:
Abilities General:
Fast Movement: +10 ft. Speed.
Rage: 8 Rounds/Day; Add +4 Str/Con, +2 Will, -2 AC. Patron Spells: Time.
Hexes:
Barbarian Abilities:
Rage: A barbarian can call upon inner reserves of strength and ferocity, granting her additional combat prowess. Starting at 1st level, a barbarian can rage for a number of rounds per day equal to 4 + her Constitution modifier. At each level after 1st, she can rage for 2 additional rounds. Temporary increases to Constitution, such as those gained from rage and spells like bear's endurance, do not increase the total number of rounds that a barbarian can rage per day. A barbarian can enter rage as a free action. The total number of rounds of rage per day is renewed after resting for 8 hours, although these hours do not need to be consecutive.
While in rage, a barbarian gains a +4 morale bonus to her Strength and Constitution, as well as a +2 morale bonus on Will saves. In addition, she takes a –2 penalty to Armor Class. The increase to Constitution grants the barbarian 2 hit points per Hit Dice, but these disappear when the rage ends and are not lost first like temporary hit points. While in rage, a barbarian cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration. A barbarian can end her rage as a free action and is fatigued after rage for a number of rounds equal to 2 times the number of rounds spent in the rage. A barbarian cannot enter a new rage while fatigued or exhausted but can otherwise enter rage multiple times during a single encounter or combat. If a barbarian falls unconscious, her rage immediately ends, placing her in peril of death.
Witch Abilities:
Fetish Mask: At 1st level, a scarred witch doctor forms a bond with a wooden mask. As she gains power, her connection to this mask causes it to grow ever more hideous and grotesque as it absorbs the weight of the self-induced pain that underlies her magic. Her spells derive from the insights her patron grants her while she's enduring the cuts, burns, and other sorts of mutilations she inflicts upon herself. Her fetish mask acts in all ways like a witch's familiar for the purpose of preparing and gaining spells. Rather than communing with a familiar to prepare spells each day, a scarred witch doctor hangs her mask on a wall, tree branch, or something similar and contemplates the agony it represents.
When wearing her fetish mask, a scarred witch doctor gains a +2 circumstance bonus on Heal and Intimidate checks and gains a +2 bonus on saving throws against effects that specifically cause pain or have the pain descriptor. If the mask is destroyed, the witch doctor can create another fetish mask (which almost immediately adopts the shocking appearance of the original) for the same price and time it takes a witch to replace a dead familiar. At 5th level, the scarred witch doctor gains the ability to add magical abilities to her mask as if she had the Craft Wondrous Item feat. This ability otherwise functions like and replaces the standard witch familiar. Hexes:
Equipment:
Worn:
Explorer's Outfit (2lbs) Weapons:
Backpack: (2lbs)
Trail Rations x6 (6lbs)
Scroll Case: (.5lbs)
Total Weight Carried: 78.5 lbs
Funds: P: 0; G: 4; S: 0; C: 0.
Character Background:
Makoa is a child of pain and slaughter. His mother, a member of a primitive human tribe making their home in the western mwangi expanse, was taken as a slave by a shattered skull orc raiding party; innumerable numbers of which strike the edges of the jungle out of the Napsune and Barrier Wall mountain ranges each year. She died during childbirth following her rape at the hands of Makoa’s father, a brother to the Shattered Skull’s chieftain. For the most part his father ignored the child that came of his union with the nameless slave, other than to aim a few extra kicks in the half-breed’s direction.
Growing up as a half-breed among the pure-blooded orcs of the shattered skull clan was certainly not easy for Makoa; the majority of half-breed children generally find a young death at the hands of their generally stronger and hardier litter-mates. He was lucky to survive through the constant fighting to adulthood and even luckier when he manifested arcane talent at the age of 8, a skill rare enough among the shattered skull clan that it secured his position as an apprentice with the clan’s witch doctor. The trials he faced during his apprenticeship however were even more difficult than Makoa could have imagined. His training under Arkus Gutripper, the shattered skull clan’s witch doctor, focused primarily upon brewing various tonics and toxins, used in the tribes rituals, and the history of the region, which the shattered skulls once claimed dominion over during the dark times following Earthfall, and which they claim will one day be conquered again. Additionally, Makoa was given a swift and painful introduction to the clan’s practices of ritual scarification, and the magic that flows from them. Over the years, he slowly earned a reputation within the clan for his fury when angered, his master’s constant beatings giving him strength and endurance far beyond even most pure-blooded orcs, in addition to plenty of practice reacting swiftly to avoid them when possible. As Makoa reached adulthood, he began to chafe under the tutelage of his orc master, finding the pointless destruction and evil embraced by his tribe unnecessary at the least; while also finding that there was little left for Arkus to teach him. His decision could not have been more final, as it involved tearing out the old man’s throat in his sleep, a repayment for years of pain inflicted upon the young apprentice. He packed all of his worldly belongings and, in the dead of night under a blood-red moon, descended from the mountain jungles in which he had always lived. He made his way south into the low jungles of the mwangi expanse, following rivers and streams south and west, and at times fighting for his survival against the denizens of the jungle. Eventually Makoa made his way to the upper reaches of the Vanji River, where he negotiated passage with a small band of mwangi natives, acting as a guard for their barge and its shipment of exotic jungle plants. Afterwards he spent some small amount of time in Bloodcove, at the mouth of the Vanji River, finding that he fit in well among the broad array of races represented in the city, as well as its rough atmosphere. For a time he worked as an enforcer for one of the many criminal organizations that operate in the port city, before finally making the decision to move on once more. Makoa boarded the next ship with an open berth that stopped in Bloodcove, an old wyvern-class merchant vessel by the name of The Jenivere, heading south once more towards the ship's final destination in Eleder. Appearance & Personality:
Appearance:
Makoa is a half-orc specimen of imposing height and physique. He stands just over six and a half feet tall, towering over the heads of most humans, and even some pure-blooded orcs. His skin is a deep green from head to toe, owed to the blending of a green orc hue and the deep black skin of a mwangi native. His hair is dense and curly, like that of the indigenous mwangi, cropped short near the top of his skull. Makoa’s ears are pointed, many nicks and cuts marring their form, scarred remnants of his childhood among the shattered skull clan. His eyes are a rich green, far from the red of his father’s people, his face around them marked in black patterns with the sacred tattoos of shattered skull witch doctors; the tattoos continuing around the sides of his face and down his neck to spread over his bare shoulders. What is most striking about him however, are the multitudes of scars which cover more of his body than not, some clearly the results of old injuries while others are brands of crude orcish runes. He generally wears little more than a pair of rough, brown leather breeches, his torso bare to display the ritual scarring which covers his body. Makoa's face is often covered by an ornate, stylized mask. It appears to be made of human bone, along with some twisted pieces of dark wood, and covers the upper portion of his face down to his mouth and upper jaw. Tines extend from its upper edge into his hair, helping to hold it in place along with the leather strap that cinches above his ears. His feet are protected by sturdy leather boots, the toe and heel shod with rough pieces of iron that spark off stone as he walks. A leather baldric is strapped around his bare torso, a strange blade nearly as tall as himself hanging from it across his back; an orcish felblade, consisting of a four foot length of curved steel, attached to an elongated grip not quite two feet in length. From a sturdy belt hang a pair of razor-edged rings, throwing arms known as chakrams. Makoa’s backpack is not the same one he carried down from the mountains when he first left the shattered skulls, but one nearly as simple and appearing to be made of hide, the remainder of his possessions packed haphazardly inside. Personality:
IC Post Conventions/RP Sample:
Jun sighs as he wanders the sea-sprayed docks and piers of Port Peril, his thumbs hooked around the straps of his pack under each arm, weaving his way nimbly between the few others who populate the docks, his hood keeping the worst of the sun from his eyes. *Thieves and cutthroats, hardly a man among them with his toe upon the True Path.*
He makes his way to the one large ship at the point of the last pier, The Jenivere marked out in faded letters along her hull, raising his voice to shout up to a man with one leg kicked up on the rail, “Ahoy mate!” He raises one hand to wave up at the crewman, “Permission to come aboard?” The man kicks himself down off the rail, flipping open a small book as he removes it from behind his belt. “You the… uuh… ankh-whatsit? Just lemme get the gangplank-“ “No need to trouble yourself!” Jun takes the last several steps to the end of the pier quickly, powering his feet down against the wooden lip of the dock to send him up and over the rail. “It is Ankhmerit, but please, call me Jun. ‘He who makes friends quickly, shall have naught but allies on the Path.’ It is a name from a land far from here, I’ve grown used to the difficulty others have with it.” He gives the crewman a smile and a friendly clap on the shoulder as he is directed towards a berth on the ship, his bare feet crossing the deck of the vessel that will carry him on the next leg of his journey on the True Path. Conventions in General:
Rolls and OOC comments to go in spoilers as well.
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