About Strongman TarasikThe Tank:
Giant Male Human Urban Invulnerable Barbarian 9
Large Chaotic Good Humanoid (Human) Initiative +4 | Perception +14 (Lowlight vision) --------------------
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*Blunderbasher (Raging, Power Attack, Reckless Rage, Reckless Abandon) (Magical, Bluntl)
*Claws (Slashing)
~+1 bonus when surround by 2 or more enemies. Ranged
*Blunderbasher (80 ft.) (Controlled Rage) (Blunt, Piercing)
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Feats
Bonus Feats
Traits
Racial Traits
Skills
Languages English, Russkin Combat Gear: (MSTW, Furious) Tokarev WAHA-5495 "Russkin Blunderbasher" [3175], Ammunition ?[?]
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Crowd Control (Ex) - At 1st level, an urban barbarian gains a +1 bonus on attack rolls and a +1 dodge bonus to AC when adjacent to two or more enemies. In addition, her movement is not impeded by crowds, and she gains a bonus equal to 1/2 her barbarian level on Intimidate checks to influence crowds. +1/+1/+4
Favored Class Bonus - +3 Superstition - +1 HP
Descriptive Text:
Appearance
One might be willing to consider his face 'handsome', if they were to blatantly ignore his height. It's only if one were to ever meet a genuine pure-blooded giant that they might be willing to consider Tarasik shorter then average for his kind. In regards to wider society as a whole however, he's a man that towers over even over those afflicted gigantasism as a disorder. Unlike them, his body is evenly built and distributed for a being who naturally sands head and shoulder above everyone else. His preferred state of is a mix of civilian and military, with a preference towards his dark overcoat and it's grey scarf when it's colder. He's usually seen also wearing gloves regardless of his choice of clothing. Curiously, when it snows his normally light-pale skin seems to take on blue tint. Personality
He's not one to take immediate offense when rudeness and bigotry come to play, though neither will he laugh it off either. In fact, he seems to have a very poor sense of humor overall. Someone unaware of his shifts in mood might even refer to him as a 'gentle giant' especially when it comes to his fondness for small animals. While people are free to berate him as they fit, this goes out the window when it comes to others as he detests those who hurt innocents with a passion. It's when things get too out of hand that the real trouble begins. His entire image of stoicism comes shattering when his eyes turn bloodshot and his too-wide mouth opens up in a primal snarl. There will be times however even when angry where he comes into these odd fits of dead calm where while no less dangerous, he becomes cautious and calculating in his movements. Background
When he was sixteen the Most Grand Spectacles of Our Age rolled into town, a circus and freakshow that was proudly displaying oddities from all over Pretronia- perhaps even the world. Something about them had fascinated him, and he felt a connection with people such as the Bearded Lady(Who he was pretty sure was a dwarf, rare in Russka they may'be been), the Mighty Hellhound(Wasn't it just a mastiff?), and even the Whispering Waif(Her ears were so strangely pointy). People that didn't quite fit in with normal society, much like him and his family hadn't. For some reason his mother had only smiled when he'd brought up the idea of joining their troupe. She must've sensed that he'd never quite enjoyed the life of a simple farmboy, and while his father had wished he'd inherit their land his younger brother had been born normal (Though still a little bigger then most people) and was strong enough to carry their name. He dosn't know if he'd describe the years he spent traveling with them to be a 'fulfilling' life, but it was comfortable. He'd flex his muscles at the crowd, bend barbells, lifting whatever heavy object the crowd would bring him. For some reason, it was the laughter he earned from children as he performed his tricks or let as many hang from his arms as they could fit which filled his heart with the most warmth. Perhaps one day he could start a family of his own. Such fulfilling thoughts fell by the wayside a few years ago as their circus started to fall on hard times. Perhaps it was just the venues they were visiting, the echoes of conflict had been brewing, and people just didn't feel like spending money so frivolously anymore. Tarasik, in order to help keep his troupe afloat, had found... other work. Brutal, ugly work that had left him with a strange feeling in his chest as he heaved his fists, a spark of something ugly growing inside him. Some way or another Division 6 had discovered him, reaching out to him for both his size and that odd feeling inside. There was money being offered on the table, money that would keep his found family fed and sheltered even during these hard few years. Character Progression:
If I were to imagine a character arc, I'd honestly have to say he's a simple man who ultimately wants to live a simple life helping those he cares about. Perhaps that 'ugly feeling' in his chest could be brought out and refined into something used to protect rather then destroy. |