 About Umros WhippoorwillUmros Whippoorwill
Defense
Offense
Statistics
Skills:
Acrobatics +4 -1
Bluff +4 Craft (alchemy) +7 Disable Device +1 -1 :( Diplomacy +4 Escape Artist +4 -1 Heal +7 Intimidate +4 Knowledge (arcana) +6 Knowledge (dungeoneering) +2 Knowledge (engineering) +2 Knowledge (geopraphy) +2 Knowledge (history) +2 Knowledge (nature) +2 Knowledge (local) +6 Knowledge (nobility) +2 Knowledge (planes) +9 Knowledge (religion) +6 Perception +10 Perform (wind) +9 Profession (jack-of-all-trades) +7 Spellcraft +5 Stealth +4 -1 Survival +3 Use Magic Device +8 Modifiers: ACP (-1) or ECP (-3)
Prepared Divine Spells:
Orisons: (save DC 12) -Detect Magic -Guidance -Purify Food And Drink 1st Level: (save DC 13)
Spontaneous Arcane Spells:
Spell-Like Ability: (1/day) -Dancing Lights -Ghost Sound -Prestidigitation -Speak With Animals Cantrips known: (save DC 14)
1st level known: (3/day) (save DC 15)
Class Abilities
Travel Domain: You are an explorer and find enlightenment in the simple joy of travel, be it by foot or conveyance or magic. Increase your base speed by 10 feet.
Channel Energy: 1d6 positive energy, 30ft burst. 7/day (Will save DC 13 vs. undead) Bardic Knowledge (Ex) A bard adds half his class level (minimum 1) on all Knowledge skill checks and may make all Knowledge skill checks untrained. Bardic Performance: (10 rds/day)
Racial Abilities:
Small Gnomes are Small creatures and gain a +1 size bonus to their AC, a +1 size bonus on attack rolls, a –1 penalty to their Combat Maneuver Bonus and Combat Maneuver Defense, and a +4 size bonus on Stealth checks. Slow Speed Gnomes have a base speed of 20 feet. Low-Light Vision Gnomes can see twice as far as humans in conditions of dim light. Defensive Training Gnomes get a +4 dodge bonus to AC against monsters of the giant type. Gnome Magic Gnomes add +1 to the DC of any saving throws against illusion spells that they cast. Gnomes with a Charisma of 11 or higher also gain the following spell-like abilities: 1/day—dancing lights, ghost sound, prestidigitation, and speak with animals. The caster level for these effects is equal to the gnome's level. The DC for these spells is equal to 10 + the spell's level + the gnome's Charisma modifier. Hatred Gnomes receive a +1 bonus on attack rolls against humanoid creatures of the reptilian and goblinoid subtypes due to special training against these hated foes. Illusion Resistance Gnomes get a +2 racial saving throw bonus against illusion spells or effects. Keen Senses Gnomes receive a +2 racial bonus on Perception skill checks. Obsessive Gnomes receive a +2 racial bonus on a Craft or Profession skill of their choice. Weapon Familiarity Gnomes treat any weapon with the word “gnome” in its name as a martial weapon. Languages Gnomes begin play speaking Common, Gnome, and Sylvan. Gnomes with high Intelligence scores can choose from the following: Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Giant, Goblin, and Orc. Old Age (156 years) -3 to physical stats, +2 to mental stats Umros Whippoorwill stands 3' 7" tall and weighs 42 pounds. Languages: Common, Elven, Gnome, Sylvan Gear:
Umros Whippoorwill, traveler, trader, entertainer, and alchemist extraordinaire... The dust of the road covers every inch of this transient, world-weary gnome. Weighed down by an overstuffed backpack, his stooped posture along with a wizened, piercing gaze and long, wiry eyebrows give him the resemblance of a horned owl. One could easily miss the mischievous smirk under his tenaciously large white moustache, though anyone who would speak to him would find him amiable and curious. His pack is a disorganized collection of odds and ends, some tied to the outside of the strained stitching when the room in the pockets had run out. He doesn’t seem to be the type to throw things away, as evident by the mismatched buttons, the unsightly cloak made more of patches than the original cloth, and the waterskin at his belt that has a pocket on the side -possibly repurposed from an old trouser leg. Those that wander too close notice scents of turpentine, burnt oil, or wine emanating from the burden on his back. Glass phials tinkle with every little step he takes, and his tiny fingers idly rap out a beat on the rim of the buckler strapped to one arm. What could’ve been a prospector’s pan ages ago was hammered and tweaked and bent and bolted to form the functioning shield it is today. A hemp rope bracelet on his other wrist holds two wooden charms: a crescent moon and a four-point star. A leather cord hangs low from his neck, a coil of twine and wax holding in place a lock of jet-black hair. The odd fetish bounces off his underfed belly. Amid the pouches and pockets tied to the belt that holds up ill-fitting pants, swings a cylindrical canister, made to hold maps or scrolls. The rattle with every step confirms that whatever is in that map case is not parchment. A finely-crafted, conical hat rests on his brow, of a cloth dyed deep royal purple, with an exquisite gold pattern around the crown. This ostentatious headgear is the only article of clothing that isn’t shabby, and it is plain that he takes great pride in his hat. Though he is content to be left alone, whistling the call of his namesake while working on an alchemical experiment, the old gnome brightens up when he finds others to converse, exchange goods and stories, and share in a hearty laugh. His humor can be a bit confusing to any non-gnome, but such is the way of things. In truth, he would prefer a wide variation of acquaintances to a settlement of like-minded folk, not that he was the settling type to begin with. Backstory:
Umros turned the pestle around and around, mashing the dried juniper in the clay bowl. Can’t wait for first frost! Take my own tent, sell my own tonics, make my own DISCOVERIES! The winds outside shake the walls of the tent for a moment, and his father braced a teetering stack of books and chests from getting bumped over by the disturbance. The father sniffs at the air, “Those junipers seem about done. How about you go scrounge outside while we still have daylight. Tomorrow we go to Sharlstown. Do you remember what else we need?” The thought of independance in his mind, the youngest of the offspring beamed a wild grin and nodded. He left the mixing table for a backpack, which he filled with glass and clay phials. Umros’ father added the junipers to a simmering iron pot in the corner. “Be careful,” he admonished the near-adult son, “When grumpkins tickle the full moon, luck and unluck are sure to bloom.” The fifty-five year old youth turned a wild look to his father, and a quick kiss to his plump, knitting mother, as he snickered and tore out of the tent fold, his small threadbare boots thudding softly over the grasses and mosses that grew thick on the side of the road. Over a field his little feet carried him, the late summer air filling his lungs and the spooked flock of sparrows soaring alongside his happy heart. He could feel the joy of Lady Luck, protector-goddess of the roadfolk, rise with every hurried step he took. Once, twice, three times the running gnome nearly tripped over the uneven ground, but his form was quick and nimble and three times he tumbled into a somersault back onto his feet. His plume of frizzy, fox-orange hair bounced with every step, and the many glass phials tinkled in his pockets. Yellow pansy petals. Nightshade. Robin feathers. Pine cone juice! The young gnome excitedly rehearsed the alchemical ingredients needed for the family business as he neared a grove of trees. Catching his breath near a rotting stump, his sharp ears perked at the eerie call of the whippoorwill, that echoed off the towering tree trunks deeper in the wood. Whippoorwills, at least according to a druid Umros once met as wee boy, were harbingers of fate, always present when lives took decisive turns. Rubbing the wooden charm bracelet for good fortune, the young gnome spirited away, chasing after the birdsong. The middle-aged gnome parents never saw their youngest again. They searched the field and forest for seven days, but found no sign of him. Consoled that Desna watched over Umros, and unable to fight the gnomish itch for travel much longer, the couple left a shrine to the goddess, along with a wayfinding stone should their son ever return to find his parents’ tent gone. One hundred years later, a ragged, elderly gnome wandered into Sharlstown. His enormous white beard was tangled with leaves, sticks, and dirt. A few times, he tripped over his own beard, for the end of it brushed along the dusty road. Preceded by a smell most frightful, the old disheveled gnome shuffled to the nearest inn, and arranged a warm bath post haste. The next day, a bright-eyed, big-moustached gnome capered through the village square, peddling a handful of alchemical wares and reagents for a bit of coin. He joked with children and adults alike, told outlandish stories of faraway places and people, and that night, even led the regular drinking crowd in a handful of shanties. But as quickly as he appeared, he was gone again. Though he returned a few months later (this time with a fine pointy purple hat), and again at the turn of spring, he never lingered for too long. Seen in Sharlstown, and Dutos, and settlements beyond, he was known to some for his tonics and knick-knacks and the occasional, good-natured mischief.
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