Ogrin Schwarson's page

Family is and has been for the longest time what drives Ogrin to do what he does. Some of the things Ogrin did were not very pleasant, but it was all with the higher goal of keeping the family and community safe and together.
Ogrin didn’t always have such a strong sense of community. In fact in his childhood years, he felt like sort of an outcast. He was born prematurely to a tradesman and the Ivory Quarter of Karlsgard, which would have awarded him some kind of status except he never fit quite in due to his small size and little aptitude for the traditions of a traditional Ulfen upbringing. He couldn’t swing swords or sail boats like the rest of them. Eventually the bigger and stronger ones picked on him, so he retaliated by being far more cunning. He hid, he took cheap shots and showed little mercy, though he eventually took things a little too far when he nailed one boy in the eye with a pebble, causing some serious damage. He was brought to the priest of Erastil for disciplinary action. While he expected some form of nasty punishment possibly involving being struck with a big branch or having to scrub chamberpots, they explained to him the importance of having self-restraint for the good of the community. While most of their lectures through one ear and out the other, he began to try and see the good in people. Erastil was the god of family and community; while he didn’t take to his community, he did place high value on family and in a sense some of the members of his community were like family too. He calmed down considerably when he was about 12. He became interested in more scholarly and philosophical pursuits. The followers of Erastil eventually trained him to be quite the shot with the bow. His father was impressed with the work the followers did with the boy, and thought that his only son might make a decent warrior yet. For despite his father’s façade of a humble tradesperson, both him and Ogrin’s mother hailed from a lineage of warriors. His mother may have been an ex-adventurer, but she never talked about it. For his 15th birthday, they gave him a bow with his clan’s coat of arms and motto engraved on it: “First and last in battle”. While proud, Ogrin’s true goal was to enter the priesthood of Erastil. He didn’t in fact believe he could be a real bowman, even if he wanted to—which he didn’t. He still didn’t have the robust appearance of many of the other youths. He couldn’t move with the same speed, master same sword technique or act with same aptitude in the wilderness like some of the others could in his mind. What he did have though, was conviction—or an unwavering stubbornness. As stubborn as he was he didn’t want to publicly go too far against what was the way things were done in his community or bring dishonor to his family through his disobedience. He knew even the oldest preachers would pick up arms and fight if they had to. Nevertheless he ignored this unpleasant fact of life and kept striving to be a preacher, though for whatever reason he was never quite as approachable as the others. There was always a bit of this lingering hostility he had from his perceived ‘otherness’. He threw himself into studying all the intellectual aspects of religion, and even though he gained some understanding of them, he could never quite form coherent arguments as he got angry far too easily. He was simply unwilling to compromise on any of his viewpoints or values most of the time. He learned much about other religions, creatures that Erastil’s warriors would have to combat, the history of his people, and even stranger topics such as the outer planes themselves, but he never quite mastered the art of preaching itself. It became apparent that his knowledge of their enemies and their history wasn’t enough to prove himself as a devotee of his god, so he elected to worship Old Deadeye through actions rather than words. He got his chance to do so, though not in a way that anyone would have wanted. His drunken scoundrel of a cousin had an affair with a strange and foreign woman of low standing, bringing much embarrassment to his family. The woman had expensive tastes and drove his cousin to steal and raid for money. Ogrin tracked down his cousin, unsure of what he would do when he found him. It was still his blood, though as long as he was there, he brought dishonor to his family and disorder to the community, which he could not let stand. He approached his cousin, and told him to leave the city, never to return. His cousin laughed in his face, at which point Ogrin pulled out an arrow and said his cousin could leave town on his feet or crawling on his knees. He was dead serious. And perhaps it was the intervention of Erastil guiding his words or maybe in that moment he truly became a man, but for that reason Ogrin was able to move his own blood out of town through words. He was conflicted by the decision at first, but then he reconciled his actions with the fact that he did it for the greater good, and most importantly, he did it for family. He continued trying to enforce order in the community behind the shadows, and while the church knew and wasn’t entirely comfortable with everything he did, they trusted him to make his own decisions at that point. The young Ogrin continued to police secretly and spy on those he considered enemies of the community using the newfound power granted by his god. Fortunately, he managed to do so without actually using violence. He still had not been exposed to much live or death combat, and was still quite content on continuing his studies with the clergy. That was until, a tragedy struck which showed just how far he would need to go to protect his loved ones.

One rainy summer night, one of his father’s friends told him that some raider from a Land under another King’s jurisdiction had assaulted Ogrin’s sister. While enraged, he managed to remain calm enough to head straight to the church of his god. Rever, the oldest preacher of Erastil and the one he consulted with the most, let out a heavy sigh and told Ogrin “You and I both know the penalty for this crime in these lands. I only pray you will find the temperance to treat your prey honorably.” So Ogrin left, bow in hand and tracked the man to the outer reaches of town. He was a little sloppy that time. He stepped on a twig, but before his quarry could turn around and pull out his blade, he put two arrows in his back and another arrow in the man’s chest just to make sure. In his mind this first kill was not vengeance, but justice. And once again, he did it for family. He made sure the people in charge thought it was bandits, though in time everyone in the district knew the truth. In time his community would call down on him to put down threats. Instead of going to the guard, they would go to the Erastil worshippers. In time, an axe wielding dwarven ex-member of the guard joined him with a strange foreign woman with unusual abilities. He went from hunting elk and rabbit with his comrades in the church to hunting down violent criminals and cultists. Whenever someone in the community was wronged, it was up to Ogrin to right these wrongs in the shadows. An old woman’s son was killed here, a gnome was having trouble with cultists on his land there, all these members of his community would approach Ogrin and tell them their problems while he listened in silence. He eventually gained respect within the violent crowd within the community who shunned him earlier in his life. By his late teens he parted ways with the dwarf and the foreign women, but he was drinking with the rest of the warriors whenever he had a free night from his studies in the church. He would go on to get a position in the town guard, due to some strings pulled by his wealthy family. While this was a great honor, it would mean Ogrin would have to put his dream on hold, but once more, he did it because family and tradition demanded it. This didn’t go as well as he would have liked however as Ogrin was too stubborn to fully follow the way of the guard. He considered the laws of his god about them, but his position lead to a rift developing between Ogrin and his fellow worshipers. He didn’t like his position, but a lot of the members of the community he was born and raised in liked him there, so he persevered because some things had to come above his own happiness. Though one day, out of nowhere, another tragedy struck. His parents were injured in a hunting accident. A wolf got the jump on them and his mother lost so much blood she went unconscious, while his father lost his hand trying to fight it off. They were so badly damaged, even his powers couldn’t heal them. Since then Ogrin has had a particular dislike of wolves.

While he suspected it was not really an accident, it didn’t matter because he hand no leads. He was the oldest son and his elders were incapacitated. In short: he needed money. The other worshippers looked down on him for on the surface changing his goals from protecting the community to the acquiring of gold, but Ogrin knew that he could not support his family of 6 through helping the farmers or his meager guardsman’s salary. He still constantly consulted with Rever, but the old man was too tired to defend him from the others. Not that Ogrin felt that the aging preacher should. He did not do what he did because it made him look good on the surface, but because he was a man now, anyone who did any less was less than a man. Still, at age 19 it was quite a burden put on his shoulders in addition to his regular duties. He began hiring himself out for whatever kind of jobs he could find, around taverns or on the roadways, but he never really ventured too far from Karlgard, as he felt it was his duty to take care of his community even if supporting his family meant venturing away from it. Even if he looked like he was turning his back on what he held most dear. He managed to track down his old companions, Grom the dwarf and Rin the foreign woman. The two had become quite accustomed to the adventuring life, which Ogrin didn’t particularly like or understand, but he trusted them, so he ventured with them into the wilderness along the river where they planned on putting down some raid in the lair of some sort of fey sorcerer rumored to keep a massive treasure. Ogrin managed to skewer quite a few mites, and they managed to reach the bottom of the lair, but the treasure was not nearly as big as they had hoped. They parted ways once again after this. All the venture really did was buy Ogrin time to make some real money. His companions suggested the idea of joining a caravan crew, which he did not take to but he later heard of great riches to be found in lands such as Tian Xia or Varisia from the local foreign population in Karsgard. With jobs drying up and the local populace beginning to distrust him, it became clear he had to leave to support his clan. He tried to avoid venturing too far at first, but ventures to the nearby towns paid meagerly. He returned to his old duties of tending to the farmers and hunters with the rest of his faithful, while keeping his eyes open for new opportunities. His family’s status and well-being were slipping, and in a couple years time Kalsgard would likely become very chaotic due to the rumors of its leader going away to die on some kind of pilgrimage. Despite his intense love of his people, there were times he doubted the merits of a system of government based on Vikings lopping off Linnorm heads. For both his family and community he needed a great deal of gold, and he hoped that perhaps a long journey away would aide him in the future if he learned a new trick or two on this journey. The only solace he would have is that his younger brother, Igar and Rever would take care of things while he was gone—right after he tied a couple of loose ends.

Ogrin is a young man who takes pride in his community and what he does for his community. The fact that his god doesn’t seem as popular in his homeland these days has not dampened his love of both. Worshipers of Erastil are a stubborn lot, having been around for thousands of years, and Ogrin is no exception. He presents a very gruff exterior and seems far more stoic than someone his age should be. He is sometimes a little quick to advocate a forceful solution, he rarely smiles, and constantly plays the role of the martyr, sacrificing his own wellbeing for that of his community. These qualities intensify the further he gets away from his people. Inside his community he’s a little less mopey, occasionally known to have the occasional drink and even crack a laugh every now and then. Behind this stern façade beats the heart of a family man. He doesn't show it, but he is in fact surprisingly sentimental. Whenever he’s away from home, he’s constantly writing letters to friends and family members. He loathes to show this side of him to strangers, as they may take it as a sign of weakness. Ogrin simply doesn’t see himself getting attached to people outside of his community. New things and new places always make him visibly uncomfortable, even if he keeps his mouth shut most of the time.

Ogrin is a pale skinned man just out of his teens with brown hair and big dark, shifty eyes affixed in a constant scowl. The young man always either looks fixated on something and angry, or morose and staring off into the distance. His hair is always long and unkempt and he likes to wear hooded cloaks and leather for practical reasons. His clothing style is surprisingly simple for someone from the well-heeled part of town. Ogrin is short with long arms and small delicate hands which aid in his precision in combat. He has an unimposing build due to his odd stature, but his gaze can send chills down peoples’ spine. Despite looking softer in a lot of ways than most people in the Land of the Linnorm Kings, he has the hard eyed, scowling appearance who is always willing and capable of committing violence.

Stats:
Human LG Medium Cleric of Erastil
Domains: Good, Law(Archon)
Str 12 Dex 16 Con 12 In 10 Wis 17 Cha 10
HP 1/32
BAB 3

Saves
Fortitude: 5
Reflex: 4
Will: 7

INIT +5
AC 19 (10+ 6 Armor + 3 dex), Touch 13, Flat-Footed 16
CMB 4 (+3 bab+1str)
CMD 17 (10+3bab+1str+3dex)

Attack
Composite Longbow +7 (1d8+3/x3) (P)
Longspear +6 (1d8+3/x3) (P)
Heavy Mace +5 (1d8+3/ x2) (B)
Sickle +5 (1d8+2/x2) (S)

Weapon and Armor Proficiency

Clerics are proficient with all simple weapons, light armor, medium armor, and shields (except tower shields). Clerics are also proficient with the favored weapon of their deities.

Channel Energy (Su) 2d6

Regardless of alignment, any cleric can release a wave of energy by channeling the power of her faith through her holy (or unholy) symbol. This energy can be used to cause or heal damage, depending on the type of energy channeled and the creatures targeted.

A good cleric (or a neutral cleric who worships a good deity) channels positive energy and can choose to deal damage to undead creatures or to heal living creatures. An evil cleric (or a neutral cleric who worships an evil deity) channels negative energy and can choose to deal damage to living creatures or to heal undead creatures. A neutral cleric of a neutral deity (or one who is not devoted to a particular deity) must choose whether she channels positive or negative energy. Once this choice is made, it cannot be reversed. This decision also determines whether the cleric can cast spontaneous cure or inflict spells (see spontaneous casting).

Channeling energy causes a burst that affects all creatures of one type (either undead or living) in a 30-foot radius centered on the cleric. The amount of damage dealt or healed is equal to 1d6 points of damage plus 1d6 points of damage for every two cleric levels beyond 1st (2d6 at 3rd, 3d6 at 5th, and so on). Creatures that take damage from channeled energy receive a Will save to halve the damage. The DC of this save is equal to 10 + 1/2 the cleric's level + the cleric's Charisma modifier. Creatures healed by channel energy cannot exceed their maximum hit point total—all excess healing is lost. A cleric may channel energy a number of times per day equal to 3 + her Charisma modifier. This is a standard action that does not provoke an attack of opportunity. A cleric can choose whether or not to include herself in this effect.

A cleric must be able to present her holy symbol to use this ability.

Touch of Law (Sp): You can touch a willing creature as a standard action, infusing it with the power of divine order and allowing it to treat all attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws for 1 round as if the natural d20 roll resulted in an 11. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.

Touch of Good (Sp): You can touch a creature as a standard action, granting a sacred bonus on attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws equal to half your cleric level (minimum 1) for 1 round. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.

Feats
Toughness
Deadly Aim
Extra Channeling

Traits:
Viking Blood: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Intimidate checks, and Intimidate is always a class skill for you.

Reactionary: You gain a +2 trait bonus on initiative checks.

Skills:
Skillpoints/level 2(class) + 0(Int) + 1 (Human)
Diplomacy +4 (1)
Heal +7 (1)
Intimidate +5 (1)
Knowledge History+4 (1)
Knowledge Local +1 (1)
Knowledge Religion +4 (1)
Linguistics +5 (2)
Perception +4 (1)
Sense Motive +7 (1)
Survival +4 (1)
Spellcraft +4 (1)

Equipment:
Breastplate (200 gp)
Wooden Holy Symbol of Erastil (1 gp)
50 sheets of parchment (10 gp)
10 trail rations (5 gp)
hemp rope (1 gp)
manacles (15 gp)
sickle (6 gp)
heavy mace (12 gp)
composite longbow +1 (Mighty +2) (1300 gp)
masterwork longspear (307 gp)
bedroll & blanket (6 sp)
masterwork backpack (50 gp)
inkpen (1 sp)
ink (8 gp)
60 arrows (3 gp)
Belt of Giant's Strength (+2) (4000)
Waterskin (1 gp)
Fishing Tackle (20 gp)
Flint and Steel (1 gp)
Soap (1 cp)
2 Alchemist's Fire (100 gp)
Cold Weather Outfit (starting outfit)
Spell Pouch (5 gp)
Wand of Cure Light Wounds (750 gp)

1205 gp 2 sp 9 cp

0 Create Water, Purify Food and Drink, Detect Poison, Light
1 Divine Favor, Protection from Evil, Endure Elements, Bless, blank
2 Align Weapon (good), Bull's Strength, Shatter, Lesser Restoration