Skarn Firetongue's page

[dice=Attack]1d20+28[/dice]
[dice= damage] 3d6+11+3d6+1+1d6+1d6[/dice] <== 3d6+11 Slashing, 3d6+1 Precision, 1d6 Fire, 1d6 Cold (ignore cold resistance)
on Critical hit: Slowed 1 (DC 34 Fort), 1d10 persistent Fire damage, off-guard until start of my next turn

[dice=Attack]1d20+28[/dice]
[dice= damage] 3d6+6+3d6[/dice] <== 3d6+6 Piercing, 3d6 Precision
on Critical hit: [dice=Deadly trait]2d10[/dice]

Skarn was born in the shadowy depths of the Darkfang Mountains, where goblins thrived in their squalor, raiding the nearby villages and reveling in their chaotic nature. From a young age, Skarn exhibited a rare cunning that set him apart from his kin. Where other goblins would charge recklessly into battle, Skarn would slink through the shadows, striking from behind with deadly precision. His talent for stealth, thievery, and assassination quickly earned him a place of prominence within his tribe.
But Skarn's ambition knew no bounds. The goblin longed for more than just power within his tribe; he sought domination over all goblin-kind, and even dreamed of one day ruling over the lands of men. He began to covet the ancient and forbidden magic said to be hidden deep within the mountain. These were secrets of the old gods, who had long abandoned the goblin race, leaving them to their savage ways.

One fateful night, Skarn found the ancient temple, buried beneath the mountain's roots. There, in the heart of the forgotten shrine, lay an ancient artifact-a chalice said to contain the essence of the gods' wrath. In his greed and arrogance, Skarn believed that by drinking from the chalice, he could harness the power of the gods themselves. He would become more than just a goblin; he would be a god among mortals.

As Skarn lifted the chalice to his lips, he did not notice the growing heat in the air, nor the faint whispers warning him to stop. The moment the liquid touched his tongue, a searing pain shot through his body. The gods, furious at his presumption, cursed him in the most fitting way they could imagine: with the very fire he sought to control.

Skarn's body erupted in flames, his skin charred black, but he did not die. The fire consumed him, becoming a part of his very being. His eyes burned with an eternal flame, his breath seethed with heat, and his touch could ignite the very air. The fire granted him power, but at a terrible cost: it burned him from the inside out, a constant reminder of his folly.

Now, Skarn is a twisted shadow of his former self. His once smooth and stealthy movements are accompanied by the crackling of embers, and his presence alone causes torches to flare and wood to smolder. He wanders the land as an outcast, even among goblins, feared and reviled by all who see him. His ambition remains, but it is now tempered by the curse he bears. Skarn seeks a way to break the gods' curse, and in his pursuit, he will stop at nothing-betrayal, murder, and terror are but tools in his hands. He has become a harbinger of fiery destruction, a rogue driven by vengeance against the gods who damned him.

Skarn Firetongue no longer dreams of ruling the world; he dreams of watching it burn.

Skarn Firetongue is a goblin of short stature, standing at just over 3 feet tall, with a wiry, agile frame. His skin is a mottled dark green with patches of ashen gray, as though kissed by fire and smoke. His large, bat-like ears are tattered at the edges, a testament to close encounters with danger, and his sharp yellow eyes gleam with a mischievous intelligence, always scanning his surroundings for opportunities.

His most striking feature, however, is his mouth—where a sly grin meets the burn of an oracle’s curse. His teeth are sharp and jagged, but his tongue is a deep, unnatural red, perpetually glowing with faint embers. Occasionally, tiny wisps of flame escape when he speaks, giving him his "Firetongue" moniker.

His clothes are a mix of practical leathers, dark and well-worn for stealth, but adorned with scorched and singed accents, hinting at his connection to flame. He wears a hooded cloak and a strange veil most of the time, though his face often pokes out with a devilish grin. Strapped to his side is a ever-burning blade, alongside a shiny shield that clashes with the rest of the rugged outfit. A closer observation of the scrap blade, that Goblins call a sword, commonly and collectively called a Dogslicers, reveals that it was once a sawtooth sabre, but the top half has or was broken away.

Skarn’s hands and forearms bear burn scars, not from accidents but seemingly a mark of his Oracle’s curse. A faint trail of smoke often lingers around him and his skin is hot to the touch, as if he’s always been near fire, or perhaps, the fire is always near him.

Sometimes, luck makes all the difference. You happened to be in the right place at the right time to catch Jakalyn’s eye. You may even have been in a position where something you did ended up benefiting the blood mistress, or may have even resulted in saving her from peril or political trouble through a set of almost-unbelievable repercussions and events set into motion by something you did. As a result, she’s taken an unexpected liking to you.

Recently, you received a gift from Jakalyn—a wand of a common 6th-rank (or lower rank) spell.

While Skarn was on a revenge mission, setting fire to the Silver District was his way of sending a message to the clergy who’d dismissed him. The flames he summoned consumed the mansion where unbeknownst to him Jakalyn, the Blood Mistress, was attending a private meeting. In the chaos, Jakalyn narrowly escaped, but she got a big present in return. It was Skarn’s arson that had exposed a hidden vault beneath the estate, containing damning evidence against her political rivals. His fire solidified her grip on power.

lvl 15 in Absalom:
10x Potion of Quickness 900 gp
Echo Receptors 900 gp
Aeon Stone (Preserving) 150 gp
3x Predator's Claw 9 gp
Swift Block Cabochon 70 gp
2x Grim Trophy 110 gp
Greater Emeral Grasshopper 150 gp
2x Gallow Tooth 200 gp
Greater Retrieval Belt 600 gp
===
coins left: 1443 gp