About Martok, Dwarf Flame ShamanMartok, Flame Shaman
Ranged
Space 5 ft., Reach 5 ft.
Level 1, 4 prepared (P), ALL known, DC=14
Level 2, 3 prepared (P), ALL known, DC=15
Traits:
Feats:
Skills (4/lvl + 2/background):
Racial Modifiers:
Languages: Common, Dwarven
stats:
HP 49/49 AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 14 Conditions: n/a Melee (+1 spear): +4 = +1(magic) +3(base) Melee Damage (+1 spear): 1d8+1, x2 5/5 mythic pool, 4/4 touch of flame, 2/2 channel energy Spell used: n/a ===================================================
Familiar:
Kitah (rat), curious, survivor Tiny animal Init +2; Senses low-light vision, scent, Perception +5 Defense AC 16, touch 14, flat-footed 14 (+2 size, +2 Dex, +2 nat) hd 4 hp 25 Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +5 Offense Speed 15 ft., climb 15 ft., swim 15 ft. Melee bite +5 (1d3–4) Statistics Str 2, Dex 15, Con 11, Int 7, Wis 13, Cha 2 Base Atk +3; CMB: +3, CMD: 9 (13 vs trip) Feats: Weapon finesse, improved evasion, Skills: Acrobatics +6, Climb +10, Perception +5, Stealth +18, Swim +10; Special emphatic link, share spells, immune to fire, vulnerable to cold, deliver touch spells Background:
Now, after a few months, I see things more clearly. I never asked for this; I was chosen by Lord Fire.
I was late at getting back home and it was my fault. I ventured way too far with the goat herd; the winter had been brutal in the mountains and food was scarce. I should have known something was wrong when the dogs didn’t rush over to wake the children. As soon as I neared the caves, I was attacked. The last thing I remember seeing were bloody tusks slavering near my face. Then everything happened quickly, too quickly. Something inside me stirred and took possession of my being. I felt it burn inside of me. Just when I thought I could no longer stand the heat and flames inside, I screamed and fire poured out of me. Flames wiped my enemies clean, literally burning them to ashes. It was as if all my anger burned to a white-hot flame of destruction. I then passed out again for the second time that night. When I woke up in the morning, there was nothing left of my family, my adopted human family. The children were all gone along with the orcs. There was only ash and smoke; flames danced off the burning rocks. There was not a living thing in sight yet... she called to me, urged me to get up. My body had been marked by the flames in a way that artists could never do. Kitah revealed herself to me, a survivor just like me; her white, furry body, tainted with soot, glowed with an inner light, as if she was on fire. The rat led me out of the hellish place and I follow her still. She speaks to me, tells me that it all had to happen. Confused, I follow her still. Martok had lived on the southern mountains of Taldor for the past 80 years. Without any dwarven family to call his own, he adopted human families and served as a great uncle of sorts. Always the peaceful goat herder. Always coming home. Since the terrifying night where he was possessed by Lord Fire (what Martok calls the ‘spirit’), the dwarf has gained a healthy respect for spirits and now sees omens everywhere.
Personality:
Martok has always been an even tempered dwarf. Now in his middle age, the dwarf speaks like an elder, slowly and with significant pauses in his speech. Some say that he speaks in riddles but this is only due to the fact that Martok truly is a man caught between two worlds, the urgent material world where situations must be dealt with quickly and the spiritual world where things have a more lasting nature.
At heart, Martok is a good-natured dwarf who sees portents and spirits everywhere. He’s still afraid that Lord Fire will possess him so the dwarf tries very hard to remain calm and slow to anger. Not that he cares to admit it, but Martok is definitely uneasy around graveyards and prefers that the dead be fed to Lord Fire lest they rise again. An outdoorsman for most of his life, he feels awkward with too many of life’s comforts. His belly full, a good pipe smoke, and a campfire to gaze into is all Martok needs to feel at home. Description:
Ht: 4' 2"
Wt: 180 lbs Age: 120 Hair: Black Eyes: Brown Skin: Tan Dark hair, heavy eyebrows and ample facial hair frame Marok’s face; unlike most dwarves, he keeps his beard fairly trim, for a dwarf. A couple of deep scars mar an otherwise handsome face. A drab brown tunic covers his hide shirt; heavy outdoor, leather boots complement his simple attire. He walks around with the aid of a spear. However, what is most disturbing is the radiant light behind his eyes and the faint smell of smoke about him. When he uses the special abilities of Lord Fire, a hungry spectral flame dances about his body. |
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