The Halfhand's page

"This land takes much from you. Within a week I had lost two fingers off my left hand, and it has only been taking more from me ever since."

Appearance

Once, long ago, this man carried himself with dignity and respect. What was once neatly trimmed raven hair is now a shaggy black mane, a clean shaven face now thick with hair. His eyes are dark and sunken hollow-things, constantly vigilant and darting about. Closer inspection reveals that they are filled not with fear, but with a dark contempt and fierce will to live.

He stands around 5'8" in height, and his body is covered in scars from his time in the North. His left hand is missing its outermost two fingers.

His clothes are ragged, but still retain some semblance of their original splendour. Of note are his long fur-lined grey overcoat, which has been damaged and mended many times, and the grey fox pelt crudely attached to its collar.

Iron-Bound Journal
One of the few possessions that wasn't lost in his journey, this heavy tome is bound in red leather and iron. An exquisitely made book, it has its own waterproof case. Removing it or placing it back in the case is a small effort on its own, and it is something that he only does when he knows he has time. He uses it both as a spellbook and a journal.

This book was given to him by his father, a Chelaxian judge, who always stressed the importance of recording everything for posterity's sake. He has had this book since his first lessons in magic, up until this day, making it his oldest possession.

Personality

"Who is Markus Hape?"

Markus Septimus Hape. It has been a long time since he used that name. Those he know here call him Halfhand. It is his brand. His shame. Witch. Demon. They do not want him in their towns. He cares not. He doesn't need them. He doesn't need anyone.

In Cheliax he was cruel, arrogant and selfish. His time in the Land of the Linnorm Kings has only seemed to amplify this. They, along with his keen mind, have been the key to his survival in this dreadful land. Every time he has turned his back on someone in need, every time he has taken what he needs without regard for another he had won himself another day desperately clinging to life.

More than anything, though, contempt fills his soul. A burning pride which refuses to be extinguished. Born into a minor noble house, his ego has been fuelled since childhood. Perhaps this is the reason he has had the determination to survive as long as he did. So convinced is he in the value of his own life, that he will go to any lengths to preserve it.

But he has not been spending these days in vain, no. He has been out there, listening, watching. Every day he learns something new. He has learned how to survive. He knows the braying of the winter wolves, he knows the blood of trolls. No books or parchments have taught him these things - they were learned through sweat and blood. But he gains no joy from this. Each new discovery only brings fresh terror to his soul. Every sound is a warning, the smallest scuff a sign, all feeding his growing paranoia. Fae lurk in every shadow, beasts in every hill. He is beyond wary, ready to fight or flee at any moment.

As the bitter cold has gnaws away both his mind and humanity, so does it affect his magic. His spells had a grandeur to them once. But now they all little more than conjurations born of shadow and hate - dark things pulled from the twisted realms of his fractured soul.

Positive Traits
There are few things any man would say is 'positive' about the Halfhand. However, there are some things that unquestionably seperate him from the common rabble. The first is his intellect. Whilst the wilds have torn at his sanity, his mind still remains as powerful as his days in the academy. He is a lateral thinker with a penchant for finding solutions to his problem. Indeed it is so that without this ability to adapt and learn, he would have perished long ago. He is always looking to expand and hone his mind, constantly learning new things (terrifying though they may be) in order to survive.

The second of his traits is his grim determination. Markus does not give up easily. If he fails he must know exactly WHY he failed. He will not be satisfied until he knows, and when he does, he tries again with this fresh knowledge in mind. This persistance is sometimes mistaken for foolishness or pride, but it is anything but. He knows when to pull back, when to escape and formulate a new plan. What he doesn't know is how to give up.

Negative Traits
Numerous in Hape are the traits that many men of civility would deem "Negative", mostly born of his Chelaxian upbringing. His cruelty and his pride are examples of this, both products of the culture of Cheliax. He once paid homage to Asmodeus, though this was mainly lip service, but the lessons taught to him of caste and power have stuck with him forever since. He may be disgraced and in exile, but his blood is still of noble origin, and he finds little sympathy for the common folk despite his experiences.

However, not all of his flaws stem from his upbringing. His paranoia is undoubtedly a result of his isolation. If he was a little more ignorant, perhaps it would not be as bad. But his thirst for knowledge, his desire for power, drive him to learn all he can of the North lands. He has learned the thousand and one ways he can die in the snow, learned the names of wicked beasts that hide in his shadow. Now he is constantly on edge, his fingers twitching in anticipation of an ambush.

"It seems so long ago now, things that happened in another life, to another person..."

-

A hollow hearted man || Born of black blood lands
Broken are the brother-bonds || Slick venom in his veins
No favour of the God-Fiend || Rune-Caller called away
From dark is darkness cast || Brotherless, betrayed

House numbed by feather's fall || Mind wrent by winter's blade
The raven watches, waiting || For the First to claim his stake
The Half-Hand lifts the anvil || From forge-mind he draws steel
A beast-thing born of hatred || Wrought from the winter's chill

Early Life (Birth - 12)

"Privileged" does not even begin to describe the life that Markus was born into. Whilst his house of birth was only a minor one, they still enjoyed all the perks of nobility, if not the same prestige. Slip (halfling) servants waited on him hand and foot. Never was there a day when Markus went hungry. From a young age he was tutored in the arcane arts by a hired Conjurer. When he came of age, he joined an academy to further refine his skills.

-NPCs-
Antonio Hape: Markus' stern father - a judge and wizard of repute. No doubt corrupt in his practices, he practices law with an iron fist, showing little sympathy for those without the coin to buy it.
Natalia Hape: Markus' distant mother, a typical highborn socialite. She married Antonio for the money
Serana: Markus' halfling nanny. Essentially a surrogate mother, though Markus never really viewed her as anything more than a servant. He was rather mean towards her, and would frequently torment her with minor magics.
Pavlos the Red: A dark-eyed conjurer who gave Markus a straight view of Cheliax. He did not suffer the delusions of grandeur that so availed the nobility. A strict taskmaster, he would frequently cane the backs of Markus' knuckles when he made a mistake.

School Age to Graduation (12-22)
Hape was a brilliant child, but no more so than the dozen other classmates who studied alongside him. His progress was astounding, compared to that of a normal person, but alongisde his peers... Perfectly average. Here he studied until the age of 22, and graduated from his academy with honours. Things were looking good for Markus. He had a bright future ahead of him.

Fraternity years (22-27)
Upon his graduation, he was invited to join a fraternity of wizards who called themselves the Dukes of Dusk. Mostly they would cause troubles for other fraternities and try to build up their own reputation. This would eventually climax when the Dukes and their rivals, the Umbral Knights, came head to head. In the heat of the moment, Markus agreed to a public wizards' duel, to determine which of the two were superior once and for all. The winner would claim glory, the loser would be assimilated. In front of a crowd of hundreds, Markus was completely humiliated. His arrogance was his downfall, and he found himself completely outmatched. The Dukes were disbanded, absorbed into the ranks of the Umbral Knights, Markus along with them. However, his reputation was ruined. He was a disgrace, and the whole city knew it. They would laugh in his face on the streets, hurl rotten fruit as he passed. So when the time came for him to take up his fateful task he accepted with a heavy heart, knowing that whatever was out there could be no worse than the humiliation of his home. He didn't know how wrong he was.

-NPCs-
Alessio: Head of the Umbral Knights, and the mage who humiliated Markus in a duel.
Ciro: Former leader of the Dukes. He never really liked Markus.
Donna: The closest thing Markus had to a 'friend' in the Dukes. She and Markus had a brief fling. It didn't last.

The Adventurers (28-29)
Markus joined a caravan of adventurers heading north towards Irrisen, paying good gold for their protection. They journeyed through many dangerous places and fought many splendid battles whilst Markus hid out of sight. Numerous were the stops along the way, ranging from the mundane (Such a helping farmer find his lost daughter) to the fantastic (Battling wyvern on the slopes of treacherous mountains). During this time, Markus recorded many findings and observations, chronicling each of the group's adventures. However, before their journey could be completed, the party was attacked by a cadre of stone giants whilst traversing a fjord. The wagon was overturned in the chaos, with Markus violently tossed from his seat into the raging waters of the river. When he awoke, the caravan was nowhere to be found.

-NPCs-
Berenar: A kind-hearted Shoanti fighter and de facto leader of the group. His gentle and protective nature was somewhat disturbing to Markus, and he didn't know exactly what to think of him.
Fingers: A halfling rogue of exceptional quality, able to "pick any lock from here to Absalom", in his own words. Markus looked down on him because of his heritage and trade, but the halfling didn't seem to dislike him all that much.
Giosetta: An Elven priestess of Shelyn. Markus was attracted to her, but only superficially. She couldn't stand him.

Exile (29-Present)
For the next six years, Markus would remain lost in the taiga. He would hide where he could, building makeshit huts and lean-tos, camping in dry caves. A solitary existance. One of fear. Each day he contemplated making the perilous journey northward to find settlements, but he knew he would not survive the journey. If the weather did not kill him, the trolls and fae certainly would. He had to prepare. Relearn all he knew. He would not die here. Every day he would write in his journal, recording what he had learned of the beasts and the taiga. With no spare scrolls or rolls of parchement, he turned to more primitive things, learning to scribe magical rune into stones and sticks, experimenting constantly, desperately, to find a way to conquer the elements. Eventually his study bore fruit in the form of Endure Elements. With this new power, he ventured out into the world once more, his knowledge allowing him to avoid and survive in the hostile environs of the north. From then onwards
would wander from town to town. His return to civilisation was underwhelming. Those who knew of his abilities feared or shunned him. Those who didn't saw him as weak. They called him halfhand. Called him demon, witch. Eventually his contempt for the filthy commoners overwhelmed his need for human interaction and he returned to the wilds, venturing only into towns when he needed fresh supplies. If they didn't want him, that was fine. He was above them anyway. In time they would have reason enough to fear him. He would master this land. The biting winds and driving gales would bend to his whim. In time he would do more than just survive. He would thrive.

-NPCs-
Whoever you like! Fill it with plot-relevant NPCs, other characters, or even just normal townsfolk. This can be fleshed out more when (and if) everything is finalized.

Hape's magic is largely focused on conjuration and illusion (More specifically, summoning shadows), drawing much of its power from the Plane of Shadow. The fluff of some of his spells have been altered to reflect this. During his time in the wilderness, he has stripped his spellcasting to its barest form, turning long-winded chants into commanding infernal shouts and intricate scrolls into runes carved into the surfaces of any objects he can find.

The Halfhand's Shield
Markus' shield serves as the focus of many of his abjuration spells, most notable Endure Elements and Shield. When he creates scrolls of these spells, he carves them into the outside of the shield.

Shift: The Halfhand's body turns to shadow momentarily, quickly darting to another location before reforming. This experience is physically and mentally draining, leaving the Halfhand somewhat staggered afterwards.

Endure Elements: He developed this spell during his years trapped in the wilderness. His wooden shield the focus of the spell, and protective runes glow on its surface when activated. On occasion, he will actually wield the shield to protect him from particularly strong winds, rain or snow.

Shield: Markus' shadow takes form as he looses his shield, catching it as it falls. The shadow creature follows him with shield in hand, warding him from any attackers.

Flashfrost (Grease): With an utterance, he covers an area with a thin film of frost, making it incredibly slippery.

Magic Missile: The Halfhand assails his foe with biting shadows.

Halfhand's Shadow Swarm (Colour Spray): Markus swipes viciously with his hand, casting a fistful of soil in the direction of his enemies. As it flies, the soil turns into a horde of ravenous shadowy insects, swarming around the faces of those who succumb to his magic.

Unseen Servant: Hape's shadow comes to life, removing itself from his body to serve its master's bidding.

Silent Image: Dark clouds roil up and form the image he is projecting.

Marrow-Gnawer
Tiny Magical Beast (Augmented Animal), Ermine
Init +2; Senses Low-Light Vision, Scent; Perception +9
HD: 1d8 (11hp)
Speed: 20ft, Climb 20ft.
AC: 17 (+2 Dex, +3 Natural, +2 Size), Touch 14, Flat-Footed 15
Saves: Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +4

Melee Bite +5 (1d3-4 plus attach)

Abilities: Str 3, Dex 15, Con 10, Int 7, Wis 12, Cha 5
BAB: +1; CMB/CMD: +1/7 (11 vs trip)
Feats: Weapon Finesse
Racial Abilities: Evolution (Skilled - Perception)
Class Abilities: Alertness, improved evasion, share spells, empathic link
Skills: Acrobatics +13, Climb +10, Escape Artist +3, Stealth +14; Racial Modifiers +4 Stealth (+8 in Snow), +8 Acrobatics