About Morgder KragmantleStatistics:
Male Dwarf Barbarian (Titan Mauler) 2
CG Medium Humanoid (Dwarf) Init +2; Senses Perception +5; darkvision ------------------------------ DEFENSE ------------------------------ AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16 (+6 armor, +2 dex) hp 16 Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +1 (+3 vs poison, spells, and spell-like abilities) ------------------------------ OFFENSE ------------------------------ Speed 20 ft. Melee Large Dwarven Waraxe +4 (2d8+4)
Ranged Chakram +4 (1d8+3)
Special Abilities:
------------------------------ SPECIAL ABILITIES ------------------------------ Defensive Training Dwarves gain a +4 dodge bonus to AC against monsters of the giant subtype. Hardy Dwarves gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against poison, spells, and spell-like abilities. Stability Dwarves gain a +4 racial bonus to their Combat Maneuver Defense when resisting a bull rush or trip attempt while standing on the ground. Greed Dwarves gain a +2 racial bonus on Appraise checks made to determine the price of non-magical goods that contain precious metals or gemstones. Rock Stepper Dwarves with this racial trait can skillfully negotiate rocky terrain. They can ignore difficult terrain created by rubble, broken ground, or steep stairs when they take a 5-foot step. Darkvision Dwarves can see perfectly in the dark up to 60 feet. Giant Hunter Dwarves with this racial trait gain a +1 bonus on attack rolls against humanoids with the giant subtype. Furthermore, they gain a +2 bonus on Survival checks to find and follow tracks made by humanoids with the giant subtype. Giant-Blooded Your family has always been dogged by rumors that a bit of giant blood got into the family’s veins at some point. Whether this was through alchemical or magical experimentation, or because your great-great-grandfather married a giant, it has made you big for your race, and may have given you their minor cosmetic features of giants, such as flaming red hair, a bluish tinge to your skin, or oversized hands. When you wield a weapon that is larger than your size, the penalty on attack rolls for using inappropriately sized weapons is reduced by half. In addition, you gain a +2 trait bonus to your CMD against awesome blow combat maneuvers. If you’re a dwarf, your stability racial trait applies to awesome blow combat maneuvers as well. Glory of Old You receive a +1 trait bonus on saving throws against spells, spell-like abilities, and poison. Blooded You receive a +1 trait bonus on weapon damage rolls against giants, goblins, and orcs. Attached The GM chooses the object of your attachment. Whenever the object of your attachment is either threatened, in danger, or in someone else’s possession, you take a –1 penalty on Will saves and a –2 penalty on saves against fear effects. If the person or object to which you’re attached is ever lost, killed, or destroyed, exchange this drawback for the Doubt drawback. Big Game Hunter A titan mauler gains a +1 bonus on attack rolls and a +1 dodge bonus to AC in melee with creatures larger than themselves. 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. Jotungrip At 2nd level, a titan mauler may choose to wield a two-handed melee weapon in one hand with a –2 penalty on attack rolls while doing so. The weapon must be appropriately sized for her, and it is treated as one-handed when determining the effect of Power Attack, Strength bonus to damage, and the like. Reckless Abandon While raging, the barbarian can take a –1 penalty to AC to gain a +1 bonus on attack rolls. The AC penalty increases by –1 and the attack roll bonus increases by +1 at 4th level and every four levels thereafter. Gear/Possessions:
------------------------------ GEAR/POSSESSIONS ------------------------------ Carrying Capacity Light 0-86 lb. Medium 87-173 lb. Heavy 174-260 lb. Current Load Carried 69 lb. Money 10 GP 0 SP 0 CP
Background:
The Mindspin Mountains form a natural barrier between several lands and are an interest for dwarves who explore the mountains in search of evidence of their old ancestral homes. The northern section is considered a deathtrap to most, but the southern areas are moderately less hostile and more open to exploration. Inside the Mindspin Mountains, many many years ago during the dwarves' legendary Quest for Sky, the race pushed to the surface and inadvertently found unexploited riches. These riches were in the form of silver and even adamantine metal, leading to why the dwarves today are some of the best metalworkers in Golarion. A small city was built to be a home for the dwarves who made livelihoods out of mining the precious metals, a city by the name of Glimmerhold. Many years later the rich mines stopped providing riches, but Glimmerhold was such an established city that it held strong and began dabbling in other forms of trade. It remains as a pillar of dwarven pride, reminding all of their positive influence on the world. However light and dark cannot exist without the other, such is the nature of good and evil. More than a century ago, Ezelgar, prince of Glimmerhold and heir to the throne, faced a grave peril that caused him to accept a bargain from the abominable derro of the Mistbreather Clan. They proposed to help him in exchange for the right to live among the halls of Glimmerhold. The prince accepted and together they conquered the threat, but the gods punished Ezelgar for this sacrilege. They took his heart and marked him an outcast to be shunned by all. Whatever caused him to do this is a well kept secret of history. This did not prevent him from rising to power, and now slavery and oppression fester behind a veil of prosperity. In this city is where the dwarven house of Kragmantle resides. It is a very successful house that has set its roots in Glimmerhold since before the time of Ezelgar and they can trace their roots back to the dwarven heroes who spearheaded Quest for Sky. They had a history of three things: Birthing exceptionally large sons, training some of the city's strongest fighters, and being every bit as corrupt as Ezelgar himself. Their success was not through hard work or dedication, instead growing powerful from their unquestionable loyalty to the unholy ruler and training the corrupt guards that enforce the iron fist rule of the city. The name Kragmantle is cursed and spit at but words are rarely said loudly for fear of prosecution. The current head of the house is Thormod, and his wife Ambrgret. Fifty years after the rise of Ezelgar, Ambrgret gave birth to her first child whom they named Morgder. In the fashion of the Kragmantle sons, he grew up big and strong, showing the signs of becoming a good warrior. His hands especially stood out, his mother claiming they were as long as an elf's while still being a strong as as steel. However as Morgder grew up he quickly began becoming a problem child. He was becoming an exceptional warrior, but he was prone to fits of rage and recklessness. It didn't help that he didn't have the mind or inclination for the wicked leadership and political manipulations that Thormod and his fathers did. When he came of age and began to learn more about the world, he even went so far as to question why they were so cruel to the inhabitants of the city, pointing out that with their wealth and influence they could change the city for the better. His insubordination earned him a thrashing but with it came clarity about the true situation in Glimmerhold. The wealthy and poor were not separated due to bad luck or poor choices, it was because the king with support from evil families like his squeezed them of everything, ruling with an iron fist. The realization sickened the young dwarf and he fled from Glimmerhold, vowing never to return or to oppress anybody ever again. Morgder spent the next few years of his life in the mountains, learning how difficult life was when nothing was handed to you. He spent hours vomiting from eating poisonous berries, nights shivering in the cold when no shelter could be found, and weeks spent in pain when he fell prey to attacks from either the wild animals or the inhabitants of the mountains and barely escaped with his life. Eventually he grew tired of running and hiding from the threats and began fighting back savagely. He started with goblins and moved up to orcs, and even dared to attack a giant when he had the upper hand. He fought like a cornered animal, desperate and bloodthirsty. He was lucky to have survived this ordeal, but in the end it made him stronger. While he did not learn about books and the social niceties that growing up in a noble house would have taught him, he grew strong and fast, resilient to the harshness of the world and unaffected by the evil corruption of avarice. In Morgder's fiftieth year he had become a good survivalist and strong fighter, wandering the mountains with much more confidence and ability. This led to him exploring much farther out, including going outside of the mountains, and that is where he eventually started running into civilized people. At first he avoided them, fearful of the nature of organized men he did not understand, but after much observation he learned they were a tight knit group that trusted each other and worked together to forage food and survive the dangers of the wild. Instead of fleeing when a band of goblins or orcs attacked, they banded together to repel the attack and left no man (dead or not) behind. His fascination with them grew so he began setting out extra food to help supply them. For weeks the forages would simply take the offers with good cheer and continue on. But about a month into this a young woman with brown hair and brown doe eyes picked up a handful of berries Morgder had set out, then she turned to the woods with a warm smile. "Thank you, whoever you are." He sat in shock as the young woman ran back. The simple gratitude was something that was never a part of his life. Morgder started learning the woman's normal foraging routes and how often she came out. He would leave the biggest bounties of food for her, and after several weeks she started coming out more and more often. Evidently whatever community she was part of were picking up on him and decided to take advantage of the situation. Soon enough the woman started leaving notes after taking the food, thanking him and inviting him to talk and come back to her settlement of Trunau. After two weeks of reading these messages Morgder finally decided to meet the woman he had become so enthralled with. He set out food on one of her normal routes, but this time stood out in the open instead of hiding. When she came by she jumped a little at the wild dwarf with the tangled beard, stained clothing, and mats of scars. But she knew from all his gifts, the delicate way he stacked food, and the merciful way his kills had died that his looks were deceiving, a kind heart was under all the dirt and scars. He learned her name was Helena and she was a healer in Trunau. The two formed a fast friendship and they started seeing each other several times a week. Morgder would show Helena how to hunt and the best places to find edible food, while she would tell him of Trunau and help him with the wounds he accumulated. He loved her company and constantly thought about her when she was gone, but he was still too shy and anxious to come back with her to Trunau. The idea of trying to immerse himself back into civilization tied a knot in his stomach. Helena was understanding and patient, appreciating the help and the interesting company he provided. This went on for a few months and Morgder felt vaguely at peace. He still had this deep feeling of loneliness that was only filled with Helena's presence and every day he considered going back to Trunau to spend more time with her, but every time she came back he lost his nerve and lost himself in the bliss of her presence. This situation was not to last though. Morgder was preparing for his next visit from Helena, picking flowers to go along with the food he already gathered. As the silhouette of Helena became visible he gave a craggy smile, but his joy fell when he saw her running with a terrified expression. He dropped the flowers and ran forward to meet her. She leaned over to catch her breath, and between gasps of air told him that Trunau was under attack by a band of goblins being led by a giant. His fear and indecision raged at him, but he forced the primal emotions down and followed her back. The flowers lay forgotten in the woods. The two made it back to Trunau and found the settlement still holding strong but it was under siege. The main gate at the north was under assault and the Barterstones was already lost. The goblins were using the slabs of rock as cover, launching arrows and slings at the settlement defenders. Behind them was a true terror, a fierce hill giant who was periodically lobbing rocks at the walls and roaring his fury. It was a stupid, poorly planned attack, but through sheer strength and force of numbers they were bound to cause some damage. Morgder felt the white-hot anger boiling in him, a primal rage from the blood of dwarven heroes that fought these evil creatures centuries ago. Through gritted teeth he told Helena to tell the people to attack, then with a roar of untethered anger he ran into the goblin horde like a madman, brandishing his axe. The next minute was a scene of blood and terror and Morgder cut down the goblins, half of them breaking in fear while the other half left him with small wounds before they fell to his steel. Morgder became vaguely aware of the main gate of Trunau opening as he fought his way to the hill giant, a trail of blood and corpses in his wake. He reached the hulking figure who looked at him with beady eyes. "Dverg garasje, du dod!" He brought down his club at Morgder but he sidestepped the blow and closed the distance, cutting at the giant's hamstrings. The giant roared as he was pricked by the little piece of metal, then brought his club around viciously and caught Morgder, sending the dwarf reeling and tumbling ten feet. He tried to stand up, but several ribs and his right leg were broken. He looked up just in time to see giant hands closing in as he was hefted into the air. The giant clenched him tightly as his beady eyes focused on him closely, then the giant gave a cruel smile. "Jotun blod." The giant put one hand on his head and started squeezing, trying to crush his skull. The force kept growing stronger and stronger, and with a crack Morgder felt part of his skull give and half of his world went dark. But then a spear protruded from the giant's arm with a spray of blood. With a dull roar he tossed Morgder to the side, and the last thing he saw before blacking out was the ground rushing up to meet his face. Morgder awoke to dim lighting, a cool rag on his forehead, and a dull ache that seemed to reverberate through his whole body. He tried to sit up but the sharp pain from his ribs and leg forced him back down. He could only see out of his right eye, and with a sense of terror he touched his left eye to find it ruined. He looked around and saw he was in a room that had healing supplies stacked on a shelf, and across the room was a gnarled old half-orc with sores on his face and arms. When Morgder began moving the half-orc looked at him and coughed a few times before calling out "He's awake Tyari!" A few moments later a young cleric with a symbol of Iomadae around her neck came in with a relieved expression, Helena right behind her. "Oh good, I was afraid you might not survive your injuries." She sat down and began tending to his leg as Helena ran to his side. "That was a stupid thing to do, charging in like that!" After a moment she softened and smiled. "But very brave, and you allowed our fighters to get outside the gate without being attacked. You saved some lives. Thank god we managed to get there in time to save yours." As he began healing the story was told to him how the residents used the confusion Morgder caused to rouse a counterattack, cleaning up the rest of the goblins and managing to surround and chase off the hill giant. They still lost a few people, but they believed without the distraction they would have lost more. Morgder was in no shape to go anywhere so Helena finally got him familiar with Trunau. For a week he heard stories about the settlement, how they were too stubborn to leave as the orcs advanced. He heard about the hopeknives, the siegestone, and how things were ran. Leaders were elected, and the only things that were taboo were things that endangered the lives and freedom of others. A hardworking community that celebrates the positives of life when it can. Years ago Morgder has grown a contempt for the corrupt nature of civilized life and how men could manipulate those under them, but this was an existence that made sense to him. Everybody from the chef to the leaders to the wives help in any way they can, and everybody is equal. Harsh lands often breed harsh people, but instead here was a group that grew stronger and better for their hardships. Morgder understood now, it was not civilization that was flawed, only evil men who took advantage of it. Once Morgder was healed enough to move out on his own again, a tough looking mountain of a woman came to talk with him. She introduced herself as Halgra of the Blackened Blades, the Chief Defender of Trunau. She went over how every resident of Trunau contributed to the survival of the settlement and explained how herself and the other council members have decided to give him an opportunity at living here if he could accept the risks and responsibilities. With fire in his eyes and finally at a place he was proud to call home, Morgder accepted. ------------------------------ Translations Taken from this source "Dverg garasje, du dod!" - Dwarf garbage, you die! "Jotun blod." - Giant blood. Appearance and Personality:
Morgder is a mountain of a dwarf, standing an inch or two above even his largest brethren. He has dark auburn hair and a beard that reaches his belly, his hair and beard both kept well groomed but only his beard is braided. An eyepatch rests over his left eye and a scar reaches out from under it, traveling back to his left ear. He has a craggy and sun-weathered face that speaks of many years spent outside. Morgder's eye is a pale green and on his back rests a monstrously sized dwarven waraxe.
------------------------------ Height 4 ft. 7 in. Weight 250 lb. Age 50 Hair Dark Auburn Eyes Green Skin Tanned and Craggy Picture Morgder is a reclusive and passionate dwarf. He is different from most dwarves as he has great contempt for rigid laws and government. He believes that the only regulations that should be in place should be there to protect the people, and if the law is just than the people themselves can enforce it. He spends much of his time alone and has no qualms with spending days or even weeks without speaking in the wilderness. But his upbringing and recent exposure to an uncorrupted settlement has softened his loner side and made him more prone to spend time with people. Even with his recent immersion into society he is still very blunt and rough around the edges. One of the kinder things said is that "He lacks tact". Morgder is slow to trust strangers, but if they prove themselves to be hard workers and honest he takes to them more quickly. The friends that he does make he fiercely protects, even throwing himself into harm's way to protect them. |
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