About Murob Dura GashMurob Dura Gash
Familiar:
Joyful Union
Greensting scorpion (Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Magic 232) N Tiny magical beast (vermin) Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +10 -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 19, touch 15, flat-footed 16 (+3 Dex, +4 natural, +2 size) hp 10 (1d8+3) Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +3 Immune mind-affecting effects -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. Melee sting +6 (1d2-4 plus poison) Space 2½ ft.; Reach 0 ft. Special Attacks poison -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 3, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 6, Wis 10, Cha 2 Base Atk +1.75; CMB +2; CMD 8 (20 vs. trip) Feats Toughness, Weapon Finesse [b]Tricks Come, Seek, Stay Skills Acrobatics +7, Climb +7, Escape Artist +4, Heal +3, Intimidate -3, Linguistics -1, Perception +10, Spellcraft +1, Stealth +15, Survival +1, Use Magic Device -1; Racial Modifiers +4 Climb, +4 Perception, +4 Stealth SQ come, improved evasion, seek, stay -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Come [Trick] The animal will come to you on command. Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white only). Immunity to Mind-Affecting effects You are immune to Mind-Affecting effects. Improved Evasion (Ex) No damage on successful reflex save; half on failed save. Poison: Sting - Injury (DC 10) (Ex) Sting—Injury; save Fort DC 10; freq 1/rd for 6 rds; effect sicken for 1 rd; cure 1 save. Seek [Trick] The animal moves into an area and looks around for anything that is obviously alive or animate. Stay [Trick] The animal will stay where it is. Stored Spells . . 1st—comprehend languages, cure light wounds, ear-piercing scream, early judgement, enlarge person, mage armor, mount, obscuring mist, remove sickness, remove fear . . 0 (at will)—arcane mark, bleed, dancing lights, daze, detect magic, detect poison, guidance, light, mending, message, read magic, resistance, stabilize, touch of fatigue Appearance and personality:
The gray-green of her skin is a dead giveaway of her parentage, even though her other racial traits are rather muted. Her wiry body has a coiled spring tension about it,
her shoulders slightly hunched and her eyes darting around as if seeking unseen perils. She wears her brown hair short, often hidden under a cap or hood. Her dress is practical - leather trousers, solid boots, linen shirt, pocketed vest and a multitude of pouches and containers hanging from her belt and from leather cords wrapped around her torso. A thick felt greatcoat is rolled tightly on top of her pack, ready to be used in inclement weather. Growing up wasn't easy for Murob. At best, she was tolerated. At worst... well, she has a few scars to tell those stories. She could have grown into a bitter, hateful woman, but somehow this did not happen.
Background and family:
Murob's parents are an odd couple. Hakyd Gash, her human father, was a captain in Lastwall. He took part in many excursions into the wilder parts of the frontier, fighting against the foul creatures creeping from Ustalav and the relentless orc hordes. Which brings us to Murob's mother. Agrob Durgat found herself the chieftess of her tribe, the Cleft Heads, when the former chief got himself killed in a raid against one of Lastwall's border holdings. She reluctantly accepted the burden and starting preparing her tribe for the inevitable retaliation... which came in the form of Lastwall's army. Once the dust settled, the orc tribe was practically destroyed. Very few were still alive and among them was Agrob Durgat, now Hakyd's prisoner. On the long way back to Vigil, a connection formed between captive and captor, to the extent that, on arrival in the city, Hakyd was dishonourably discharged from the army for fraternizing with the enemy. He didn't give up though. Somehow, he managed to persuade the judges that Agrob had no involvement in the raid and that she even had tried to dissuade her tribesmen from it. Cast out from the army, Hakyd took up a career as a private guard for various businesses in the city, while Agrob was acquainting herself with the joys of motherhood. However, hostility towards their unusual family continued to grow, and soon after the birth of the twins they were forced to pack up and leave Lastwall. They travelled south, seeking a place to make their own and neighbours that were not inclined to greet them with axes and pitchforks. Two decades later, they are still searching.
Murob Dura and her brother Durzum grew up under their father's strict supervision, while their mother taught them essential survival skills and the tribal magic she possesses. Hakyd and Agrob love them greatly, but parents and children both have difficulties expressing their feelings for each other. The twins are stoical, disciplined and dependable and, although their paths have diverged a little in the last few years, fiercely loyal to each other. Durzum is quite fond of learning and is determined to attend the university one day and prove himself. However, such things do not come cheap, and with age creeping up on him, Hakyd is no longer able to support his family as he once did. Thus, the family council decided to take a gamble and enrolled Murob in one of the expeditions departing for the Azlanti continent, with the idea that she will use her skills and resourcefulness to make a fresh start. The family would follow her across once she had established herself in the new land. RP sample:
Thock, thock, thock went the pestle as it ground the dried bark into a fine powder. The rhythm was soothing, and before long Murob's mind was wandering, so she almost didn't hear the approaching footsteps, their soft fall overlapping with the dull sound of the stone on stone. She smiled without turning, for she recognized those steps.
"Back from study already? I thought you wouldn't come home for a few hours yet..." As her brother comes into view, her smile freezes, then shatters. Streaks of dried blood cover half of his face and his clothes are scuffed and dusty. At the sight of her expression, he quickly raises a warding hand. "It's alright, I'm alright, I just... fell. Nose in my book, didn't look where I was going." He gives what he imagines to be a self-conscious, self-deprecating laugh, but his sister hears the pain. "'Zummy, don't lie to me. Not to me. I can clearly see that was no fall." She takes in the telltale gash in his forehead, the bruises around his wrists. "Who was it this time? The miller's boys? Fool man, he should know better. Who was it who helped his wife when she had that fever that almost killed her? Our mum did, that's who. And he lets his sons treat you this way. For shame." Durzum's face betrays his anguish and conflict as he kneels next to his sister and takes her clenched fists into his hands. "No, no, Mur-Mur, don't get angry. You know mum and dad don't like it when you get angry. They always say how we have to master our hearts and not give anyone the slightest reason to call us savages and beasts. We're people, we are. We need to show them we're just as good as they are. Maybe... maybe even better." He thinks for a moment about that one, then shakes his head. "No, I don't think they would like it if we were better than them. But we can be good, Mur-Mur. We can! We must!" Mollified, his sister squeezes his hands and gives him a kiss on his bloody forehead. "Alright, I'll be good. Hold still now, I'll clean off that blood and put something on the wound so it doesn't go bad. You're lucky that I just did a collection round today, topped up all my stores of herbs and such." |
