About Brynjolvar IroneyesNAME- CR
AC , touch , flat-footed (+ armor, +2)
Appearance: Background: Personality: Crunch:
Brynjolvar Ironeyes
Male human Beastmind Shifter 1
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AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 [Dex+3; Armor+3]
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Speed 30 ft.
Ranged Javelin +3 (1d6+3 /x2; range 30’)
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Spell Points: 6 (1 level + 4 con + 1 drawbacks)
Life Sphere
General Drawbacks:
Sphere-Specific Drawbacks:
Boons:
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Str 17, Dex 17, Con 18, Int 12, Wis 11, Cha 8
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43.4 gp; hide shirt (18#); cestus (1#); Javelin (3; 2# ea.); Longspear (9#) In/On pack: bedroll, blanket, medium tent, fishing net, hemp rope 50', trail rations (10), backpack, waterskin --------------------
Acrobatics +2 (3 dex, -1 ACP)
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Handle Animal
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skill (1) --------------------
Background:
When Bryn's father was on his deathbed, in the last throes of the yellowjack fever’s putrid embrace, he beckoned his only son close and, death rattle in his chest almost drowning out the words, whispered, ”A serf is born every minute in this land.” Later, as the lay priests attended to his father’s lifeless body in the family’s small upstairs flat, Bryn pondered on those words, confused. His family weren’t serfs. They didn’t work some noble’s land in the countryside, at the mercy and whims of some cruel lord - they were merchants in Westcrown, with a small storefront downstairs of their apartment. Bryn and his sisters were educated, there was never a night the family went hungry. The fever dreams of a dying man, Bryn thought, watching the lay priests cover his father’s body with a funerary shroud, as his mother and sisters sobbed at the bedside. -------- The burial costs wiped out most of the family’s savings, and although she was a fine woman and a devout Abadiarian, Bryn's mother proved to have little facility for the family business. Brynjolvar was forced to give up his schooling and to go to work, and although the boy was bright and possessed an innate cunning, he was gripped with awkwardness of a social nature which obscured his talents and made impossible the obtaining of a good apprenticeship. Instead, Bryn used another gift, one not easily obfuscated by misplaced words and nervousness - his strength and hale fortitude. It was a simple matter to get a job as a logger, and Bryn found himself well suited to the work. The boy enjoyed being outside, and relished in the soreness that would pervade his muscles upon waking each morning, the sign of a good day's work. --------- Bryn's rough appearance and poor social skills left the man ridiculed mercilessly, often called Mule and given the most menial of the logger’s tasks - hauling sewn logs to the river and lashing them into lumber rafts for floating down stream, camp cook, even latrine digging when the loggers moved into a new area. This treatment lasted until Bryn began fighting back, literally, and after a few beatings, Bryn began to show another side of himself - a side to be feared. He made foreman in six months after his first fight. And yet, his new position provided little pleasure. He had his coworkers’ fear, but not their respect, and worst of all, he was still a logger - a job squarely at the margins of Chelish society, and even at a foreman’s wages, there was little pay to make the backbreaking days’ labor worth it. When he was approached by his boss’s rival, and offered a tidy sum to “accidentally” move his logging crew onto contested land, Bryn took the money without remorse. It was an easy thing to do, for like his father and his father's father before him, Bryn was at once human and moreso; he was a shifter, a kind of natural lycanthrope, who could attain the shape of animals. Slipping into the woods a few hundred feet from camp, Bryn disrobed and changed in a fine white stag, and ran right through the camp. His men didn't even realize their foreman wasn't with them as they charged into the woods on an impromptu hunt, right into a hail of the enemy loggers' arrows. With his newfound blood money, Bryjolvar purchased a suit of armor and some supplies, and sent a small fortune home to his mother and sisters. Then, the Mule set out, for the first time in his life truly on his own, in search of opportunity. He’d never be a serf again. Appearance:
The most striking thing, once one gets past the sheer hulking size of Brynjolvar Ironeyes, and begins to notice the details that make up the man, is the logger’s eyes. They are a flat grey, like the winter sky on a drizzling day, and this trait tends to run through the generations of Ironeyes - it is in fact the reason for his last name. Otherwise, Bryn appears much as one would think a Chelish laborer would - naturally pale skin, lightly bronzed by days in the sun; dark hair, midnight black in color. At over six and half feet and three hundred pounds he’s almost comically large. Almost comical, but not quite, for Bryn carries himself in a way that exaggerates his size; he forces himself into the personal space of others, and makes sure that his gravelly voice carries across the room. The logger dresses in simple clothes, as befits a laborer. His nose has obviously been broken before - a few times at least, and so have his knuckles. Bryn is proud of his scarred and misshapen hands, and uses them to great effect in his attempts to intimidate those weaker than himself.
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Martial Flexibility Feat Trees:
- Dirty Fighting
- Death From Above +5 attack when attacking higher ground or flying. - Defensive Weapon Training +2 AC vs. one fighter weapon group. - Desperate Battler +1 att / dmg when fighting alone. - Disruptive increase DC to cast defensively. - Distance Thrower with a thrown weapon, you reduce your penalty on ranged attack rolls due to range by 2. - Enforcer - Flanking Foil whenever you hit an adjacent opponent with a melee attack, until the start of your next turn, that opponent does not gain any flanking bonus on attack rolls while it is flanking you and cannot deal sneak attack damage to you. It can still provide a flank for its allies. - Improved Unarmed Strike
- Intimidating Prowess str mod to intimidate. - Lunge - Power Attack
- Shield Proficiency
- Step Up |
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