About Shiruba DosStatistics:
Male Human (Alaven) Monk 5
LG Medium Humanoid (Human) Init +1; Senses Perception +13 ------------------------------ DEFENSE ------------------------------ AC 21 , touch 13 , flat-footed 19 (+1 Enhancement, +1 Dex, +1 Dodge, +1 Natural Armor, +1 Deflection, +6 Untyped) +2 when half health -4 on enemies to confirm a crit hit CMD 23 +6 vs. Grapple, +4 vs. Reposition, trip, drag, bull rush. hp 43/43 (5d8+15) Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +11 +1 Vs. Illusion Effects +2 bonus on saving throws against enchantment spells and effects. Immune to all disseases. ------------------------------ OFFENSE ------------------------------ Speed 40 ft. (40 ft. Swim speed) Melee
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Non-Standard Skill Bonuses
Languages Common Racial Features + Traits + AP:
Skilled Humans gain 1 bonus skill rank every level. Automatic Progression:
Hardly a Fool Social You have always been able to ferret out lies and deception. Maybe you worked as an investigator for a time, you came from a place rife with lies, or you’ve studied the human condition long enough to read a person’s face and get to the heart of his message. You gain a +1 trait bonus on Sense Motive checks and a +1 trait bonus on saving throws against illusion effects. Water-touched magic You share an affinity with elemental water. You gain DR 1/— against creatures and attacks with the water type.
Feats:
Power Attack : -1A, +2D Toughness : +5 HP Fast Learner : 2 FC rewards per level Improved Grapple : +2 bonus on checks made to grapple a foe, and against grapple checks. Deflect Arrows : 1/R Deflect projectile. Dodge : +1 Dodge AC Class Features:
Ki Pool (Su) 7/7 By spending 1 point from his ki pool, a monk can do one of the following:
Stunning Fist: 5/5 DC 17, Stunned, Fatigued Evasion: At 2nd level or higher, a monk can avoid damage from many area-effect attacks. If a monk makes a successful Reflex saving throw against an attack that normally deals half damage on a successful save, he instead takes no damage. Evasion can be used only if a monk is wearing light armor or no armor. A helpless monk does not gain the benefit of evasion. Fast Movement: +10 Maneuver Training: At 3rd level, a monk uses his monk level in place of his base attack bonus when calculating his Combat Maneuver Bonus. Base attack bonuses granted from other classes are unaffected and are added normally. Still Mind: A Monk of 3rd level or higher gains a +2 bonus on saving throws against enchantment spells and effects. Slow Fall: 20 ft. High Jump: At 5th level, a monk adds his level to all Acrobatics checks made to jump, both for vertical jumps and horizontal jumps. In addition, he always counts as having a running start when making jump checks using Acrobatics. By spending 1 point from his ki pool as a swift action, a monk gains a +20 bonus on Acrobatics checks made to jump for 1 round. Purity of Body: At 5th level, a monk gains immunity to all diseases, including supernatural and magical diseases. Unarmed Strike: 1d8
Variant Multilass Features: Oracle:
Waves Mystery Aged Curse: You are a venerable member of your race. However, your physical abilities are affected as though you were old, rather than venerable. Fluid Nature (Ex): You receive a +4 bonus to your Combat Maneuver Defense against bull rush, drag, grapple, reposition, and trip attempts. A creature trying to confirm a critical hit against you has a –4 penalty on its confirmation roll. At 5th level, you gain Dodge as a bonus feat. You do not need to meet the prerequisite to gain this feat. Gear/Possessions:
------------------------------ GEAR/POSSESSIONS ------------------------------ Carrying Capacity Light 0-76 lb. Medium 77-153 lb. Heavy 154-230 lb. ? ? lbs.
Current Load Carried lb.
Background:
Down, across, rise, twist. I'd spent much of my childhood, just sitting on the shoreline and watching as the waves crashed against the rocks. The way the water would move had me memorized, and even though my mother warded me against it, I found myself diving from the cliffs, to go for a swim. I never knew it would hurt like it did, my body being tossed around like a piece of flotsam from a ship run aground. It was the first time I nearly died. My mother was lucky to have been out collecting shells, or else I wouldn't have lived beyond that day. I never learned my lesson though. It'd always come back to those waves, hypnotizing as they were, luring me in. In time, I started to move like them. Bending and moving just like they did. Aside, up, curve, down. A martial artform of sorts. I never learned from a proper teacher what I was doing, this was something I made for myself. Something I hammered in after years of slacking off during my time in the fields, earning me the scolding of my family and various employers. It earned me the heart of my wife though, and I suppose in the end that was enough. Enough, to simply practice my nonsense forms and train my body for reasons I didn't need. Life was peaceful for me. It was peaceful for my family, my friends... I was able to grow into being an old man. My sons had daughters, and my daughters and sons. I couldn't have pictured anything ruining that for me, taking away my perfect moment. But just when you think you've tamed the waves, you're smashed up against the rocks. Rise, curve, swoop, push. It all started with screams, of disbelief, of fear. My neighbors, friends I'd known since I was a boy, were dead on the ground within minutes. They were on their feat again not long after that, as well as everyone else I knew, eyes empty and devoid of reason. This was the second time I nearly died. All those years spent maintaining my regimen, inventing a style that had no reason to be invented, suddenly had a payoff. But the taxes imposed afterward made me wonder if I was really as lucky as I thought. Many of my children were cut down, and their own children slaughtered... My youngest daughter was the only one I was able to save. We were the only two survivors in our entire town. We wandered for a time, the two of us. Just trying to survive what we could only consider the apocalypse. The people we met along the way just as desperate for survival, some often resorting to truly heinous deeds. The price for living in this hell on earth was often the life of another. Or often, several. But I wouldn't let myself fall so low, I kept us alive with my own fists. My own wits. It was hard, the life of comfort I knew was long gone even when the Rising had finally stopped. It cost everyone so much pain, so much suffering. Cities were left empty, fields burnt... Nobody would ever know what I knew. Down, down, down.... and rise. My daughter was only with me for another ten years, before disease took her but left me untouched. Not a child of hers left for the world, it was the official end to my family line. It was only me, a stubborn old fool, that remained. I wouldn't just lay down and accept defeat however. I had a purpose. There was something I had to do. I began to wander, teaching people what I spent a lifetime mastering. This was a world that needed to defend itself, and I had the perfect weapons to give to them. Themselves. "There we go... Good work everyone. You're progressing wonderfully. Soon enough, you'll be able to knock a skeletons skull clean off!" I shared a laugh with the twenty three people who came to see my instruction, which I'd advertised in Mistcrest's main square. My students, I referred to them affectionately. It wasn't much, I admit. A two hour instruction like this wouldn't make that much of a difference, but I was sowing the seeds for them to master it themselves. Another week here, and I'd move on to a new town. There were others that needed to learn. "Now, let's start-" It started with a scream. Of disbelief, of fear... I turned my head just quick enough to see the ax aimed at my waist. This was the third time I nearly died. Appearance and Personality:
Shiruba is a man of average height, but with a toned and slender build. His skin has gained a gentle tan over the years, and has become wrinkled and weathered with age. His short spiked hair has grayed to near-white, and he has a thick mustache, goatee, and eyebrows. His eyes are baby blue, and still shine with mirth despite the hardships face his last thirty years. The clothing he usually wears is a skin-tight black short-sleeved linen shirt, which easily shows off his toned abs and biceps. Light colored pants tied with a brown rope secure his legs, with his feet left bare to the world. He's a very determined but jovial man, always preferring to keep a clear head and a high mood even when all the chips are down. His stories are offered as freely as his martial art lessons, and stories include things that have happened to him, to others, or just things he made up on the spot. It dosn't matter to him how silly people may consider them, as ling as a smile reaches their face by the end he considers it a success. It's only in combat or when people are in danger that he becomes remotely serious, thinking of strategy and tactics and ways to end the threat before it could become worse. The smile in his eyes vanishing and a subtle twitch of his shoulders tend to be the only signs he's become battle-ready. Bonded Spirit:
Name: Tears-Dancing Backstory: ? Ability: Swim Speed equal to your land speed Whenever you are reduced to half or less health you gain +2 to your AC |
