About Tharok CragsoulRanger of the Peaks Half-Orc Cragkin Ranger 1
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Speed 30 ft., 40 ft. when charging (Cliffside Charger)
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Str 13, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Skills [6 (Ranger) + 1 (favored class)=6]
Languages Common, Giant, Orc
Gear/Possessions:
Starting gold: 210
Current gold: 17 Current silver: 8 Studded Leather | 25gp | 20 lbs.
Compass | 10gp | 1/2 lb.
Outfit, Explorer's | - | 8 lbs. Cart | 15gp | -
Class Features:
Favored Enemy: Orcs Combat Style: Archery
Track - A ranger adds half his level (minimum 1) to Survival skill checks made to follow tracks. Favored Enemy - At 1st level, a ranger selects a creature type from the ranger favored enemies table. He gains a +2 bonus on Bluff, Knowledge, Perception, Sense Motive, and Survival checks against creatures of his selected type. Likewise, he gets a +2 bonus on weapon attack and damage rolls against them. A ranger may make Knowledge skill checks untrained when attempting to identify these creatures. Wild Empathy - A ranger can improve the initial attitude of an animal. This ability functions just like a Diplomacy check to improve the attitude of a person (see Using Skills). The ranger rolls 1d20 and adds his ranger level and his Charisma bonus to determine the wild empathy check result. The typical domestic animal has a starting attitude of indifferent, while wild animals are usually unfriendly. To use wild empathy, the ranger and the animal must be within 30 feet of one another under normal visibility conditions. Generally, influencing an animal in this way takes 1 minute, but, as with influencing people, it might take more or less time. The ranger can also use this ability to influence a magical beast with an Intelligence score of 1 or 2, but he takes a –4 penalty on the check. Racial Traits:
Darkvision: Half-orcs can see in the dark up to 60 feet. Orc Blood: Half-orcs count as both humans and orcs for any effect related to race. Cliffside Charger (from the Mountains) [BOG] Half-orcs from mountainous terrain are accustomed to traveling in the steep terrain of their mountain homes. When in mountain terrain, mountain half-orcs with this racial trait can move through natural difficult terrain at their normal speed; magically altered terrain affects them normally. In addition, cragkin gain a +10 foot racial bonus to their speed while charging. This racial trait replaces the orc ferocity and weapon familiarity racial traits. Rock Climber: Half-orcs from mountainous regions are excellent climbers, and sometimes ambush prey by leaping down from above. Half-orcs with this racial trait gain a +1 racial bonus on Acrobatics and Climb checks. This racial trait replaces the intimidating trait. Character Traits:
Trunau Native: You were born and raised in the town of Trunau, one of the few human settlements in the orc- dominated Hold of Belkzen. Orc attacks are an ever-present threat, and like all Trunauans, you have made the Standing Vow: to hold Trunau against all attackers, orc or otherwise, to stand your ground, and to live free or die trying. Upon coming of age, you were given a hopeknife—a small, sheathed dagger, usually worn on a chain under your clothes—and taught how to use it to take your own life to avoid capture by orcs, or to grant the mercy of a quick death to the wounded. As a native, you have served in Trunau’s fanclub, and fought alongside Patrol Captains Kurst and Rodrik Grath. You begin play with a hopeknife (a masterwork dagger), and your tenacity in the face of adversity grants you a +1 trait bonus on Will saves. Mountain Guide: You gain a +1 trait bonus on Knowledge (geography) and Survival checks when in mountainous areas, and Knowledge (geography) is always a class skill for you. Background:
Tharok was one of the gaggle of children that Halgra brought back with her over twenty years ago. Little more than a toddler riding in an infant carrier rigged from sinew and wood, his life seemed to truly begin once his mother settled down in her home town, and soon he was running about the plateau, curious and irrepressible. Indeed, such was his energy and curiosity that as he grew he quickly earned the reputation of a trouble maker, his fierce passion and short temper causing Halgra no end of grief as complaints about his antics began to stream through her door. Whether it was his swimming in the Hopespring, daring friends to camp in the Plague House, or stealing Charm Larringfass' glider and hurling himself over the edge of the cliff to the west of the town, no amount of discipline seemed to impair his desire to explore. Growing up, however, his curiosity seemed often to curdle with the fire that burned in his blood. He was barely eleven when he first slipped out of the main gate to go exploring, and was gone six days before returning bloodied and starving. Halgra tried to ground him, furious at his recklessness, but within two days he was gone again, and this time for two weeks. Out alone in the plains around Trunau, Tharok felt an expansiveness of being that for but a moment soothed the restlessness in his soul. At night, lying on a broad rock and gazing up at the stars, listening to the wind blow across the land, he felt uniquely alive. There was an inherent majesty in gazing upon the vastness of nature that to him verged on the sublime, and made him feel disdain for Trunau and his limitations. When he returned, unharmed and unaware of the distress his long absence had caused, Halgra gave him an ultimatum: either wait to sign up with Patrol Captains' Kurst and Grath when he turned fourteen, or to not bother returning the next time he left. She refused to live in a state of agony, not knowing where her child was, and hoped to frighten him into submission. Instead, Tharok's latent fury reared its head, and he snarled and yelled and grabbed his pack. He swore that he would find his orc relatives, and that he would live free with them under the sky, not bound by stupid traditions and constraints. Before his mother could stop him, he fled into the night, and slipped away, this time, he thought, for good. Heading north, Tharok was both terrified and excited. He knew little about orcs, but felt that he was one of them, powerful, wild, and as irrepressible as nature itself. Five days later he came across his first warband, and with his heart in his mouth he stepped into view. The dozen orc warriors paused at their meal around their campfire, staring in surprise at the youth, and then to Tharok's dismay simply turned back to their food and argument. One of the orcs rose to its feet, strode over, and cuffed Tharok so hard on the side of the head that he fell sprawling at the orc's feet. His pack was taken, torn open, and its contents distributed amongst the other orcs. Tharok struggled back to his feet, only to be cuffed again, this time across the chin. With a cry he fell, and the orcs laughed again. His oppressor returned to the fire, and for the rest of the night Tharok sat about ten yards away, nursing his pounding head, fighting back tears and the desire to flee into the night. When the warband rose and began to stride north, Tharok followed. By day they slept, and by night they moved north, for weeks on end, the band growing as other groups joined their number till they were almost a hundred strong. Tharok was awed and appalled. Violence was casually meted out. Several orcs died on the march in sudden fights that seemed to flare up over nothing. Their behavior was callous and cruel, yet none of them seemed to take insults or beatings personally. Tharok tried to avoid attention as best he could, but still he was thrashed a number of times. Each time he slunk back into the shadows to nurse his wounds, and in time he simply came to be ignored, the runt of the pack, to low and pathetic to even warrant a beating. Slowly he began to learn their language. They were headed to the Hold of Belkzen, and Tharok's heart thrilled to see that castle. Yet before they arrived they came across a caravan that was foolishly trying to make its way along the River Fisk to Varisia. The orcs fell upon the caravan with murderous howls, and Tharok watched, horrified, as over thirty human men, women, and children were slaughtered. Some were tortured, others were left to die slowly of their wounds. Unable to control himself, sick with the realization of just how different he was at his core from these orcs, Tharok went to the wounded and tried to help them. Two orcs noticed and laughed, their voices harsh and cruel. They came over, and one knocked Tharok aside while the second began to slowly torture the man he'd tried to help. Tharok lay pinned by the first orc, and it was then that hatred entered his heart. Hearing their laughter mingle with the screams of the old man, he fought as best he could, and in a burst of rage managed to knock his captor aside and rise to his feet. He drew his dagger and sliced open the torturer's arm, eliciting a how of outrage from the orc. Tharok was promptly attacked, mauled near to death, and when he finally lost consciousness, his last thoughts were of Trunau, of his mother, and how he would never get to ask for forgiveness. When he awoke two days later, the orc warband had moved on. Around him lay the dead. Slowly he crawled to the river and drank deep, and then spent the next few hours gathering the scarce supplies that remained. For a long hour he contemplated the dead, tears running down his face, and he wished that he could bury them all. But he knew he was too weak, and that it would take days of digging to do so. In the end, cursing himself, he turned south, and returned home. It took him another month to slowly make his way back to Trunau, hiding by night and limping by day. When he finally espied the raised plateau, he broke down and cried again. He was nearly shot at as he approached the portal, the guards mistaking him for an orc, but by yelling clearly for his mother, he was finally allowed in and held under guard till Halgra came to interrogate him. She recognized him immediately, and before he could apologize she wrapped him up in a hug so tight that he knew he was forgiven. From then on, Tharok was a different person. Gone was the wild curiosity and furious temper. He dutifully served in the patrols when he grew old enough, and practiced his weapon play assiduously. More, he became a devotee of Erastil, holding fast to his tenets and taking great strength and solace from them. Yet the allure of the wild never ceased to call him. When he was seventeen, he asked permission to leave, and it was dubiously granted. He headed to the Mindspin Mountains, much more practiced and confident now in traveling the land. He spent three months climbing the hills and mountains, moving cautiously, taking no risks, and in doing so he noticed a large gathering of orcs. Clearly it was a warband, and from listening in at night he realized they were planning to attack Trunau. He ran home, crossing the distance in record time, barely ahead of the loping orcs. Ten days later he arrived, haggard and barely able to keep his feet, but his warning helped the settlement repel the attack. Lauded for his warning, Tharok took it upon himself to leave the town frequently to head to the Mindspin Mountains, where he found a thrilling attraction to the peaks and passes. The next few years saw him spend more time in the mountains than at home, and twice he brought word of impending attacks. More, he realized that with but a cart and two mules he could bring back a cargo of mountain goats, enough meat to supplement the town's supply of vegetables for a month. Today, Tharok is gone from Trunau almost nine months out of the year, returning sporadically with his laden cart every month or so and staying for but a week before leaving once again for the peaks and heights of the mountains. His long periods of solitude have made him a taciturn man, yet his devotion to Trunau burns even brighter, and it is only by serving the town and watching for its safety that he can bare to leave its high walls in the first place.
Appearance:
As if haunted by the heights he has scaled and come to call home, Tharok's countenance often carries a bleak and distant expression. Prone to introspection and silence, comfortable with solitude and stillness, it can come almost as a surprise when he smiles, becoming aware once more of those around him. His smile is all the more striking for the detachment it replaces. Tharok's gaze is unflinching, his nearly black irises giving him an inscrutable stare that unnerves those unaccustomed to such directness. His gaze isn't cold or cruel, however; he simply has spent too many hours staring into crevaces and down cliff faces to do other than give others his frank regard. His devotion to Erastil is made apparent through a simple holy symbol he wears about his neck on a leather thong. More subtly, it manifests in his quiet confidence and resolute attitude. Like most souls that spend an inordinate period of time scaling the cliffs and peaks of the Mindspin Mountains, Tharok gives his appearance scant mind. His black hair is thick and kept short with what must be economical hacks of his knife, and his clothing is dusty, practical, and well worn. His weaponary however is well tended; his bow glows with a waxen luster, while his greataxe is kept viciously sharp and oiled. Ht: 5'9"
Personality:
DEVOUT | "Trunau stands in perpetual defiance of famine, orcs, and probability. I shall see to it that home and hearth are provided for, so that we may live to see another dawn. May Erastil bless our bows and plows."
INDEPENDENT | "The wind scours the high places. The eagle soars upon the updraft, alone amongst the spires. It hunts, so that it may bring back sustenance to the nest."
MELANCHOLIC | "Change comes to everything, even the mountains themselves. Those who believe in permanency are doomed to disappointment."
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