Scuba Diver

The Bunyip's Best Friend's page

24 posts. Alias of Quiche Lisp.

Full Name





Fighter 1




6 feet, 172 lbs.




Lawful Evil


Milani, the Everbloom


Common, Giant, Goblin, Orc

Strength 12
Dexterity 16
Constitution 14
Intelligence 16
Wisdom 10
Charisma 8

About The Bunyip's Best Friend

A man walks in (Description):

A man walks in. He has long been on the road and wears a worn woolen grey cloak on a studded leather armor with grey trousers and dust-painted thigh-high boots. He seems to be in his late twenties, though you can't be sure of his age because the cowl of his cloak and the wide-brimmed leather hat that he wears on top on it mask most of his face.

Under the cowl and the hat:
He is younger (in his early twenties) than expected, but he has an angular grim face which seems marked by a life of hardship. He has short raven hair that looks like it's been shorn by a rough blade and expressive dark eyes with a hint of something gentle shadowed by violence.

The man has a rapier at his left side and a big knife tucked in a sheath on the same side. He carries a plain long bow (currently without his bowstring) and a quiver of arrows. He walks to a table in a corner of the room, puts down the large traveller's backpack he was also carrying, throws his leather hat on the table, unbuckles his rapier's harness and puts it against the table before seating himself.
He looks across the room unhurriedly, taking note of everyone in it, and then seems to relax a little. For now, he keeps his cowl on.

LE Male Human Fighter 1 (Favored Class: Rogue)
Medium Humanoid (Human)

Init +5; Senses Perception +0

AC: 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13 (+3 armor, +3 Dex)
CMB: +2; CMD: 15

hp 12 (1d10+2)

Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +0

Spd: 30 feet

Melee rapier +4 (1d6+1/18-20), dagger +4 (1d4+1/19–20); rapier and dagger +2/+2 (1d6+1/1d4)

Ranged longbow +4 (1d8/×3), dagger +4 (1d4+1/19–20)

Special Attacks none

Str 12, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 8
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 15

Feats Quick Draw, Two-weapon Fighting, Weapon Finesse

Traits Fast-talker (+1 trait bonus on Bluff checks, and Bluff is always a class skill for you), Reactionary (+2 trait bonus on Initiative checks)

Class Skills Bluff* (Cha), Climb (Str), Craft (Int), Handle Animal (Cha), Intimidate (Cha), Knowledge (dungeoneering) (Int), Knowledge (engineering) (Int), Profession (Wis), Ride (Dex), Survival (Wis), Swim (Str).
*Bluff is a Class Skill per the Fast-Talker trait.
Acrobatics (Dex*) 3 [2 with studded leather]..........(+3dex)
Appraise (Int) 3..........(+3int)
Bluff (Cha) 4..........(+1rank -1cha +3class +1trait)
Climb (Str*) 1 [0 with studded leather]..........(+1str)
Craft (Alchemy) (Int) 7..........(+1 rank +3int +3class)
Diplomacy (Cha) -1..........(-1cha)
Disable Device (Dex*) 4 [3 with studded leather]..........(+1rank +3dex)
Disguise (Cha) -1..........(-1cha)
Escape Artist (Dex*) 3 [2 with studded leather]..........(+3dex)
Fly (Dex*) 3 [2 with studded leather]..........(+3dex)
Handle Animal (Cha) n/a
Heal (Wis) 0
Intimidate (Cha) 3..........(+1rank -1cha +3class)
Knowledge (dungeoneering) (Int) n/a
Knowledge (engineering) (Int) n/a
Perception (Wis) 0
Perform 0 (Cha)
Ride (Dex*) 3 [2 with studded leather]..........(+3dex)
Sense Motive (Wis) 0
Sleight of Hand (Dex*) 4 [3 with studded leather]..........(+1rank +3dex)
Stealth (Dex*) 4 [3 with studded leather]..........(+1rank +3dex)
Survival (Wis) 0
Swim (Str*) 1 [0 with studded leather]..........(+1str)
Use Magic Device (Int) n/a

Languages Common, Giant, Goblin, Orc

Weight Allowance:
Lift over head/Lift off ground/Push&Drag--------->130/260/650

Gear (total):
Studded leather..........................(25 gp, 20 lbs.)

Rapier.......................(20 gp, 2 lbs.)
Daggers (3)..................(6 gp, [3x1=]3 lbs.)
Longbow......................(75 gp, 3 lbs.)
Arrows (20)..................(1 gp, 3 lbs.)

Cold Weather's outfit........(8 gp, 7 lbs.)
Entertainer’s outfit.........(3 gp, 4 lbs.)
Traveler’s outfit............(1 gp, 5 lbs.)

Backpack.....................(2 gp, 2 lbs.)
Bedroll......................(1 sp, 5 lbs.)
Blanket, winter..............(5 sp, 3 lbs.)
Flint and steel..............(1 gp)
Oil(1-pint flask)............(1 sp, 1 lbs.)
Pouch, belt..................(1 gp, 1/2 lbs.)
Rag (for cleaning and oiling weapons)
Rations, trail (3 days)......(3 gp, 3 lbs.)
Rope, hemp (50 ft.)...........(1 gp, 10 lbs.)
Sack.........................(1 sp, 1/2 lbs.)
Sewing needle................(5 sp)
Shovel.......................(2 gp, 8 lbs.)
Soap.........................(5 sp, 1 lbs.)
Thieves’ tools...............(30 gp, 1 lb.)
Waterskin....................(1 gp, 4 lbs.)
Whetstone....................(2 cp, 1 lbs.)

Total Weight = 85 lbs. (medium encumbrance)

Gear (always carried):
Studded leather

Arrows with quiver (20)
Daggers (3)

Traveler’s outfit

In the belt pouch:
Bowstring (from the longbow)
Rag (for cleaning and oiling weapons)
Thieves’ tools


Weight = 42,5 lbs. (light encumbrance)

Gear (in the backpack):
Bedroll, Blanket (winter), Cold Weather's outfit, Flint and steel, Entertainer's outfit, Oil (1-pint flask), 3 Rations, Rope (hemp, 50 ft.), Sack, Shovel, Soap

Weight = 42,5 lbs.(light encumbrance)

Starting wealth: 175 gp
Current wealth: 5 gp + 2 sp + 8 cp

Background story:
Attewyl has no parents for he was raised as a slave, and as far back as he can recall he's had a master instead of a family. But he ever secretly hoped that he was not born a slave.
He fantasizes often about his name, which means in the Old Tongue “he who lives near a stream” : perhaps he was born to a family of loyal, gentle and caring folks - living in a farm near a beautiful river maybe ? - to which befell some tragedy which was cause for his abandonment at an early age.
Anyway, he always knew deep down that he was not destined to remain a slave.

For most of his life, Attewyl was a slave to Master Ermas. Ermas was an alchemist, as gifted with potions as he was socially inept, who lived in the rugged and out of way hills known as the Green Wretches (named after some wandering goblin tribes which frequently made camp around there and the marshy nature of the land at the foot of the hills).

Ermas, far as he was from civilization, was nonetheless a man of some wealth because he had loyal customers which came all the way from distant towns to buy his concoctions. One man in particular – a politely unobtrusive and plain looking fellow with dead-still eyes – would come regularly to buy poisons designed to be ingested, put in a drink or on a well sharpened blade. Rafe Wolfstan (for such was the name of this quiet fellow) was an eager buyer of anything lethal or painful.

Because Ermas was relatively rich he could afford a manor and an orchard, both well tended by a staff of nearly twenty slaves, plus five men-at-arms with a sergeant and an overseer to look after the slaves.

Ermas was not a unusually cruel man, but he cared only for the merchant or commodity value of his living property. If anything, Ermas appreciated his slaves keeping him company because it was easier for him to get along and communicate with them than with the average free person.
The lucky slaves served the master in his day-to-day needs at the manor and looked after the orchard. The unlucky ones waded and toiled into the swamps near the manor to collect and cultivate reeds, roots and rare mosses for the alchemist.
These swamp workers died regularly of fevers and various nasty illnesses and needed to be replaced every odd year. But the swamp workers dared not flee for fear of the goblin tribes around the hills and for fear of Gruthank, the slave overseer.

Gruthank was a monstrous mongrel, an hulking half-orc with a bad temper and a swift leather whip laced with metal. Gruthank talked to his charges only in orcish : he couldn't be bothered with learning the civilized and “weak” human tongue. Many a newly bought and hapless slave died prematurely because he couldn't learn the coarse language of his brutal overseer fast enough to timely obey his commands.

Attewyl had no problem learning orcish as he was growing up. It seemed sometimes that he spoke it even better than Gruthank, not that the half-orc minded. He learned goblin too, which was useful to prudently communicate with the surrounding goblin tribes.

Fortunately Attewyl was smart, a fact which did not escape the notice of his master, so he wasn't put to swamp duty.
Instead Ermas taught him to read and to write. He taught him the language of Giants too, in a practical experiment about intelligence-stimulating drugs and linguistics. And most importantly, Ermas took Attewyl as an assistant of sorts in his alchemical research.

In time, Attewyl even learned to brew philters and other generally toxic stuff. During one of his visits, Rafe Wolfstan remarked that he was pretty gifted at it.
- It seems that you have some good poison in you, he said to the boy.

During all these years at the manor nearby the swamps, the only caring person that Attewil knew was another slave : a woman named Melia, six years older than him.
Melia was warm and wise and as brave as a slave could be. Melia was a sister to Attewyl or as close to a sister as the boy could conceive. She consoled him when he was young and hurting, she taught him about right and wrong and about the inherent value of the human soul, regardless of the circumstances of life.

Attewyl could never thank her enough for her wise lessons. And her simple kindness and love. He always felt that she helped him become a human being instead of a breathing piece of property.

But one day Ermas sold Melia to a goblin tribe for a pouch of exotic herbs. The goblins took Melia away never to be seen again.

Infuriated, Attewyl raged at his master, who had him promptly punished by Gruthank. Somehow, Attewyl survived his punishment. Confident that the matter was settled, Ermas got back to work in the lab with his properly subservient assistant.

Almost a year after the selling of Melia, Attewyl overheard a secret conversation between Rafe Wolfstan and Gustav, the sergeant of Ermas' men-at-arms. Rafe Wolfstan promised gold to Gustav if he killed his employer. Gustav accepted. After he was gone, Attewyl made his presence known to Wolfstan, who found the young eavesdropper intriguing.
- I want to kill Ermas ! said Attewyl.
- Yes, said Rafe Wolfstan evenly. You want to.
- I will help Gustav kill Ermas. I will ! promised Attewyl.
- I see, said Wolfstan. If you do it, it will be only fair that you have your share of the gold.
Attewyl blinked in surprise for no thought of money had ever entered his mind. As a slave, he did not own anything.
Rafe Wolfstan said no more, and Attewyl left him to pursue his revenge on Ermas.

All went uncannily smoothly. It seemed to Attewyl that some hidden and astute part of his being began whispering instructions to him for the killing of the man he loathed. It felt good too.

That night Gustav dispatched his men away on the pretext of a patrol far away from the manor on account of some roaming goblins. When Ermas went to bed that same night Attewyl served him his herbal tea as usual – spiked with a paralysis-inducing chemical.

Then Attewyl went to Gruthank's bedroom, and told him that Gustav wanted to kill him in his sleep and rob Ermas after he had died. When Gustav silently entered Gruthank's room a few minutes later, the half-orc leapt upon him and strangled him with his trusty whip.

Attewyl quite enjoyed the sight of the struggling sergeant, with his hands vainly groping at the rope cutting in his neck beneath his gasping mouth and his purple head with bulging eyes. Then he stuck a knife in the back of the half-orc. Alas, it wasn't enough to kill the brute. Letting go of the dead sergeant Gruthank roared in pain and tried to grab Attewyl to crush him.

Appaled, Attewyl fled in the marshes (which were very familiar to him) pursued by the bloody bellowing half-orc. Fortunately quicksands caught the overseer and promptly swallowed him, while he thrashed about in rage and fear.

Attewyl came back to the manor. He entered his master's bedroom and sat quietly in the chair by the bed. Ermas' eyes – the only part of the alchemist which could move – found his.
They gazed at each other for a long time, Ermas' terror made quite evident by his dilated pupils and his tense breathing.
At this moment, Attewyl couldn't really tell how he felt : it was like his self had been smothered by a pall of wrath.

Finally Attewyl grabbed the burning candlestick which stood on the bedside table.
- I kill you now, he said to Ermas. I do this for Melia... And for me too.
He let the candlestick drop on the sheets and set the bed on fire. Then he walked away. Ermas managed a tortured squeal from his fiery bed before the door closed shut behind his former slave.

Attewyl watched the manor burn. To the slaves who came out of their mud houses he said that the master was dead, and that they should go before the guards came back. They disappeared into the hills. He couldn't go with them.

In the morning, Attewyl hid from the guards when they came back. They searched the scorched husk of the manor. They found nothing and they left.

Rafe Wolfstan arrived late in the afternoon. Attewyl was seated on a small mound overlooking the smoking ruins of the manor.
- So, said Rafe Wolfstan, you're alive. Is Master Ermas dead ?
- I... burned him, answered Attewyl. And Gruthank killed Gustav, and then I led Gruthank to the quicksands in the swamp.
- The quicksands, he ? Well thought, lad, approved Rafe Wolfstan

Wolfstan dig a fat purse out of his leather coat. He untied the knot which closed it and walked to the ruins of the manor. There he slowly spilled some golden coins into the ashes of the wreckage.
Then he went to the marshes bordering the orchard, took some more coins, and threw them in the fetid swamp like he was sowing it.
After that he came back to Attewyl, seated himself on a stump near him and tossed the purse to him. The young man almost didn't catch it.

Attewyl glanced absent-mindedly at the purse in his hand. There were many golden coins inside. He tied the purse shut and put it away in his trousers' pocket.
- What did you do that for ? he said to Wolfstan, vaguely gesturing toward the swamp.
- It was money for the dead, said the man softly.
- The dead need money ?
Wolfstan turned his head to look at Attewyl. His eyes looked bleak and very still. He let out a little sigh before answering the question.
- Some say the dead are quiet and placid. That they no longer bother the living. That's not entirely true.
A pause.
- The dead may stay quiet most of the time, continued Wolfstan. But they never cease to be hungry.
- Hungry ? I don't understand.
- There's no reason you should. You have only killed three men in your entire life... You see, after some time, the dead hunger for your attention, for your thoughts. For you to remember them.
Attewyl nodded as if he understood now. Wolfstan pursued.
- If you don't give them something meaningful – some gesture to appease and satiate them – they grow restless. And you can feel them as they begin to stir on the outskirts of your con... sciousness.
The young man shuddered.
- And then one night the dead come gnawing at your dreams, concluded the older man.

After that, Attewyl stayed silent for a long time. Finally he looked at the sky above him. There were no clouds, only the dark blanket of the night pricked by the stars. And then he had to ask :
- What am I going to do now ?
Rafe Wolfstan chuckled.
- The same damn thing as everyone : whatever you think you can get away with, he said with an hungry smile.