About Valiana SnarltuskStat Block (Captain Valiana Snarltusk):
Unchained Monk 8 (Sage Counselor) LN Medium humanoid (Orc, Human) Init +2; Perception +3 Favored Class Bonus +1 to Skill points -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 20, touch 18, flat-footed 12 (+1 armor, +2 Dex, +3 Wis, +3 level, +1 Natural Armour) hp 60 (8d10+8) Fort +9, Ref +10, Will +8; (+2 vs sleep, paralysis, fear) -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 50 ft. Melee Fist +16/+16/+11 (2d6+10) or +13/+13/+8 (2d6+16), Flying Kick Melee Fighting Fan +15/+15/+10 (1d4+6) x3 or +12/+12/+7 (1d4+12) Ranged shuriken +12/+12/+7 (1d2+7) -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 22, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 8, Wis 16, Cha 10 Base Atk +8; CMB +14; CMD 32 Feats IUS, Weapon Focus (Unarmed Strike), Stunning fist (DC 17), Skill Focus (Bluff), Dragon Style, Dragon Ferocity, Improved Feint, Greater Feint, Combat Expertise ---Adventuring Skills:---
---Background Skills:---
---Languages:---
Style Strike: Flying Kick
Drawback: Pride
Backstory:
Life underground isn't all too different than that above. At least, that's what my pops said, when he got a bit too much to drink. There's a whole load of people just surviving. Whether they farm iron mushrooms and honey ants, or corn and cows. Tradesmen, farmers, smiths. The majority of them don't give a damn whether the king or queen is a drow, an orc, a ghoul or a unicorn, as long as the taxes aren't too high and their village isn't being raided. I grew up on the The Ponderous Thunder, my pops' keelboat. No idea what it meant, just it made him laugh in that particular way. Most of what you do as an independent captain is whatever you can find. Hauling cargo down the stream, food upwards, transporting colonists, or even, from time to time, the occasional unassuming crate that is to be shown to no authorities under no circumstances. Whatever keeps the boat floating and the bellies full. The throat wet, too. For a tiny human, my pops could drink a duergar under the table. Not a lot of people in here tolerate humans at all, and especially not tiny, old ones, who drink and giggle, and speak in their own language. Solid mugging opportunity, they usually thought. Well, the old man was the meanest and calmest drunk man I've ever seen, and probably will see. I've seen him kick an eight-foot tall orc in the unmentionables so hard that he was sobbing for hours. I've seen him knock out a duergar with a tankard from across the bar. All while keeping that little smile and that calm face. Five years ago, he kicked the bucket. One day, he just called me and said, I won't be here tomorrow. Use what you learned. And live, he said. There's no point in life, if you do not live it. Then he was gone. I'd like to think I proved myself a decent captain. Not the best of navigators, but it's priceless to be speaking to a posh drow, playing the part of the dumb orc and letting yourself be negotiated down to twice your normal price. Running mercenary transport is a pretty good job, too. They get to where they want, and I don't have to worry about pirates. And Clan Black-Tooth, better than anyone, knows the importance of paying on time. I was even considering signing up with them exclusively. Until those damn Crimson Sails jackasses decided I was smuggling on their waters. Not that I wasn't, of course, but I'd been doing it for years. Thought I'd managed to lay low for long enough. They got my boat and my cargo. The crew and I managed to escape, fortunately, and I managed to cover the cargo's cost to the employer. And just about that. Now I find myself in Telderist, that horrid den of piracy, with nothing in my pockets. First, I need a drink. Then, I'll figure it out from there.
Appearance:
Valiana is a large half-orc, catching the eye with both her impressive stature and her attractive features. Her clothes are fashionable, with colourful silken shirt, flowing trousers and sashes, and thigh-high boots of fine, embroidered leather. Her hands are covered in rings and bracelets, and several earrings, bordering on gaudy, hang on each pointed, green ear. A fan and multiple small knives are tucked in her belt. Her hair, jet black, is usually bound in a long braid curling down her back. A challenging look usually shines on her face, usually staring at a drow. Personality:
While fairly easy-going and happy-go-lucky, Valiana has few important rules: Don't break your word, Don't harm the innocent and Don't steal from the poor. She often enjoys playing the part of the dumb half-orc in front of authority figures, while carefully guiding them to think precisely what she wants. Welcome to Telderist:
Clearing the gates was easy. Though her purse had significatly lightened after paying off the damages to the Vexidyre merchants, it was still well capable of paying entry fees. Her heavy boots thudding onto the mouldy cobblestones, Valiana's thoughts started darting around as she plucked out her fan. It's too damn hot in here. Not a damn breeze in sight., she sighed, waving away. And the town air... it's... grimy., she added a moment later as a whiff of civilisation curled her nose from under a balcony. "Lovely.", she quipped to nobody as she continued onto the narrow streets, surrounded by towering houses. Okay. Even if I was willing to sell all my jewelry - which I am absolutely not, the best I can get is a leaking tub and a crew of pesh-addicted derros., she sighed, before sending a salacious wink at a passing-by drow. Navigator? Half the ships in here work for the damned Crimson Sails, and the rest 'navigate' by poles, upstream. I'm not sure boredom isn't worse than the pirates. Sweeping into an alleyway, she continued in, the jingle of bracelets following her every step. Fighting pits are a very bad way to make money, and a very good way to get killed., she continued pondering. I suppose I could swallow my pride and go to join the Black-Tooth Clan, for real. I mean, I know the gang, we've worked before. And it's the best I can hope for any sort of reliability in here. I like drinking my tea without checking it for poison first. Sighing once more, she fanned faster and faster as she continued navigating the maze towards the Silver district, before the shadow of a doorway spewed out a silhouette, and the sound of blades leaving scabbards sounded behind her. I should really start paying more attention to my surroundings..., she bit her lips. "Hello, miss.", a hissing, sardonic tone came out from the tiefling ahead of her. Dressed in dark leathers, complete with spikes, and a large, unfriendly sword on his belt, he crossed his arms. "A bit lost, are we?", he asked, prompting a chuckle behind her. Blinking in a totally innocent way, Valiana rushed forward like a lost fawn. "Oh, yes! I was going to see my master, in the Silver District! Could you please show me the way?", she asked, obliviousness seeping from every word, as she fanned the fan faster. The tiefling's eyes glared open, clearly barely believing the sheer stupidity of the half-orc in front of him. "Please, he doesn't like it when I'm late!", she added, pouting her lips. If you got it, flaunt it., she thought. "Some like 'em big and dumb, I guess.", a voice hissed in Drow from behind her, prompting another chuckle. "Sure, sure. If you just follow me right this way, then, it's faster.", the tiefling announced. "It's a dangerous neighbourhood, this is. It's good you got us for protection.", another voice announced, prompting Valiana to turn around and give a grateful smile. Two, three in total. One looks like a mage. None too large., she noted. Leading the half-orc into a dead-end alley, the tiefling turned around. "Alright, sweetheart. Give us the jewelry, and we'll let you go, since you've been so kind." "But...!", Valiana retorted in response, drawing out a tear. "Please, don't kill me!", she cried out, moving next to the tiefling and starting to pull away a large, emerald encrusted gem from her fingers. "Tug harder, or else we'll take the finger, too." Oh, aren't you just your family's pride and joy. Actually, in Telderist, you just might be., she thought, before giving the ring a final tug, her hand slipping away and connecting into his forehead with a crack, sending him out cold on the ground. "Sorry!", Valiana shouted out, leaning over the unconscious man. "I didn't mean to!", she blurted out to the surprised duo. The taller one pulled out a sword, stepping forwards. "Oh, he'll be so pissed when he comes around.", he noted, brandishing the sword forwards. "Very, very pissed." "Not as much as I am, believe me.", the half-orc replied, before dashing forwards under the sword. Reaching for a grab, the man lunged backwards, only to have Valiana's left hand grab his wrist, wringing the sword out much to his confusion. Throwing the sword to the ground, she jumped towards the last member of the gang, knee impacting into his chin, followed by a brutal fist to the face. The thief crumbled to the ground, as Valiana cracked her knuckles. Rushing forwards towards the now swordlessly petrified member of the group, she grabbed him by the neck, slamming him towards a wall. "You could've just escorted me to the Silver District." As the drow's face started growing increasingly paler, the half-orc let go, taking a moment to affix her clothing with the pretentiousness of a noble. "Now. I'll be taking your money and weapons.", before grinning. "Oh. And your breeches."
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