Post by sleepingdragon on May 31, 2008 14:10:00 GMT
Str: 18 (+4) [16 pts]
Dex: 12 (+1) [4 pts]
Con: 18 (+4) [10 pts, +2 racial]
Int: 6 (-2) [0 pts, -2 for hilarity purposes]
Wis: 10 (+0) [2 pts]
Cha: 6 (-2) [0 pts, -2 racial]
Name: Thorin Magrundson, aka Thorin Windaxe, aka Thorin Firebeard
Class/HD: Fighter 1
XP: 0
ECL: 1
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14
AL: LG
Size: Medium
AC: 17 (+1 Dex, +4 armour, +2 shield), touch 11, flat-footed 16
Init: +1
BAB: +1
Speed: 20 feet
Gender: Male
Age: 58
Hair: Red
Skin: Ruddy
Eyes: Grey
Height: 4'5
Weight: 226 lbs
Saves:
Fortitude: +6 (+2 base, +4 Constitution)
Reflex: +1 (+0 base, +1 Dexterity)
Will: +0 (+0 base, +0 Wisdom)
Attacks:
Dwarven waraxe +5 melee (1d10+4, x3)
Javelin +2 ranged (1d6+4, x2, 30 ft)
Special Abilities:
Dwarven Tank: Speed is not reduced due to armour
Darkvision 60 ft: See in black and white without needing a light source
Stonecunning: +2 Search for unusual stonework
Weapon Familiarity (dwarf waraxe, dwarf urgrosh)
Stability: +4 vs. bull rushes or trips when standing on the ground
+2 on saves vs. poison
+2 on saves vs. spells and spell-like effects
+1 on attacks vs. orcs and goblinoids
+4 to AC vs. giants
+2 Appraise with stone and metal items
+2 Craft related to stone and metal
Noisome Fart
Feats:
[1st] Power Attack
[Fighter bonus 1st] Cleave
Skills:
Climb +0 (2 ranks, +4 Strength, -6 armour check penalty)
Jump +0 (2 ranks, +4 Strength, -6 armour check penalty)
Languages:
Dwarven, Common, High Moron
Possessions:
Dwarven waraxe (8 lbs)
2 javelins (4 lbs)
Heavy wooden shield (10 lbs)
Scale mail (30 lbs)
Backpack (2 lbs)
Bedroll (5 lbs)
6 days rations (6 lbs)
Waterskin (4 lbs)
Whetstone (1 lb)
Potion of cure light wounds (0 lbs)
Pot of ground hot peppers (0 lbs, spent 4 gp)
Flask of ale (1 lb)
Map to the City (0 lbs)
Signet ring (0 lbs)
Flint & steel (0 lbs)
19 gp, 8 sp, 7 cp
Carried for Locke:
Crowbar (5 lbs)
Caltrops (2 lbs)
Bedroll (5 lbs)
Grappling hook (4 lbs)
3 torches (3 lbs)
Silk rope (5 lbs)
95 lbs carried (light load)
100 lbs light load, 101-200 lbs medium load, 201-300 lbs heavy load
Background:
Thorin Magrundson, Prince of Craghammer, is, at first glance, everything dwarves could hope for in a future king. A proud, stubborn, and honourable man capable of drinking a horse under the table and wrestling an ox into submission, Thorin is a very powerful warrior with a history of victories over orcs and goblins, the great enemies of the dwarf race. There is just one problem – Thorin Magrundson, Prince of Craghammer, is slower than a tortoise stuck to a pan of molasses with sovereign glue.
Since a young age, any kind of learning apart from hitting things with an axe has eluded Thorin. As a future general, he is expected to understand issues of strategy and logistics, but he has yet to demonstrate any comprehension of tactics more complicated than the charge. As King Thorin will be expected to uphold his peoples’ interests in dealings with other kingdoms and races, a task made difficult due to his tendency to forget the motivations, customs, beliefs, and simple existence of those beyond his immediate circle. He is supposed to inspire and lead those around him, but occasionally finds it difficult to remember their names, even while sober.
In his early years, his father and his (younger) brothers treated him with the kind of weary acceptance that one would show a moronically endearing pet. Surely, there was no way this specimen of stupidity would actually survive to claim the throne! They assured themselves that his idiocy would, at length, get Thorin killed and one of his far more suitable younger brothers could succeed to the throne of Craghammer.
As the years have gone by, they have watched with increasing horror as Thorin has somehow blundered his way to success after success, bolstered by the efforts of dwarf lords who enjoy the notion of a monarch who can be easily led and is too stupid to notice their plays for greater power. Thorin has grown increasingly boastful as time goes on, and in one last desperate play, the ageing Magrund decided to use Thorin’s pride to try to send him out to the world on his own where some merciful monster could end the nightmarish spectre of Thorin’s kingship.
One night several months ago, shortly after Thorin returned from victory over a band of orcs, Magrund spoke to his son privately. He praised Thorin to the skies, lauding him as the greatest of young dwarf warriors, so powerful that no orc or goblin would ever withstand him. Craghammer, he said, was too small for Thorin – he could never demonstrate his true potential in its over-familiar environs. Instead, to truly show his potential and demonstrate his greatness, Thorin needed a true challenge…and Magrund had discovered one. Thorin puffed out his chest and roared that he would gladly take on anything to prove himself in his father’s eyes, and Magrund smiled. He told Thorin of the great Dungeon of Doom, in a faraway human city in the west, whose name Thorin promptly forgot. Filled with treasure and monsters, it seemed to shift as each new group entered its confines…and, they said, not a single soul had seen its bottom levels and discovered its true secrets.
Pumping his fist, Thorin vowed by Moradin that he would go to this Dungeon and fight his way to its deepest depths. Beaming proudly, the ageing King rose and gave Thorin a map to the City, which was covered with strange yet somehow familiar runes. The King told Thorin that he should go at once, lest cowards attempt to dissuade him from braving the terrible Dungeon. Filled with resolve, Thorin gathered his gear and departed from Craghammer on a long journey to the south.
Many gruelling weeks passed. Thorin often peered at his father's map, trying to understand why the runes looked familiar, seeing if he could work out the meaning of the strange symbols. One night, he sat and prayed for several hours, imploring Moradin to tell him the meaning of the bizarre runes, staring intently all the while at the map. Thorin was on the verge of falling asleep - or perhaps he had - when he heard a soft, wise dwarven voice.
“You’re holding the map the wrong way up.”
Eureka! Filled with resolve, Thorin leapt up, turned the map the right way up, gathered his gear, and departed on a long journey to the northwest, thanking Moradin for his gracious intervention.
“I wonder who that was,” said the passing Dwarven merchant.
Personality:
Thorin is proud, stubborn, and honourable. He dislikes relying on tricks, particularly ones he can't understand, and he steadfastly keeps every promise he makes as long as he doesn't forget it. Thorin is a born leader, which is to say that he leads due to his high birth rather than because he is in any way suitable to the role. He is used to giving commands and expects to have them carried out, but he is easily distracted and will listen to advice as long as the person giving it sounds confident. Thorin is convinced of his own greatness and boasts loudly of his achievements to anyone who will listen, which often proves to be a large number because few people want to risk offending a thick-muscled, thick-headed dwarf with an axe. Thorin's speech is off-hand, tactless, and frequently unintentionally insulting. This is not because Thorin is an evil person - in truth, he lacks a malicious bone in his body - but rather because he has a very high opinion of himself, can rarely fully remember who those around him are, and has a rather unique take on what constitutes ordinary speech and social conventions. Thorin's memory has been unfavourably compared to that of a gnat, his manners to those of a rabid cow, and his personal hygiene to that of a diarrhetic skunk. When dealing with Thorin, the best plans of attack are to distract him through flattery, alcohol, stories, or shiny trinkets, or to point him towards something he can belt as hard as he can with his axe.
Thorin has been told a number of unlikely tales about what behaviour humans expect from dwarves. For one, he has been informed that humans expect to close every conversation with a dwarf by having both parties spit in their palms and then shake. He has also been informed that the way to indicate agreement with a human is to make a fist and shake the wrist back and forth, a hand motion which has earned him a number of startled looks from humans he has met in his travels. Thorin assumes they are surprised to meet such a dwarf who is so versed in human manners.
Physical Description:
Thorin is extremely tall (for a dwarf) and broad, with a thick neck and big, corded muscles. His most immediately noticeable characteristics are his burned face and his lack of a beard. This is because, while drunk and celebrating his victory over a group of orcs not long ago, Thorin managed to set his beard aflame. Thorin's cheeks and jaw are blackened and covered in scars, both from the fire and other battles. He has been told that his beard will grow back thicker and fiercer if he rubs ground hot peppers onto the scars every morning - this is very painful and his beard has yet to grow back, but Thorin is not easily deterred by failure, evidence, or common sense. He has long hair the colour of fire, eyes with the colour, strength, and smarts of stone, and a big, bulbous nose. He carries a dwarf waraxe, a battered wooden shield with a faded device of a flaming mug of ale, scale armour, and a dented helm.
Dex: 12 (+1) [4 pts]
Con: 18 (+4) [10 pts, +2 racial]
Int: 6 (-2) [0 pts, -2 for hilarity purposes]
Wis: 10 (+0) [2 pts]
Cha: 6 (-2) [0 pts, -2 racial]
Name: Thorin Magrundson, aka Thorin Windaxe, aka Thorin Firebeard
Class/HD: Fighter 1
XP: 0
ECL: 1
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14
AL: LG
Size: Medium
AC: 17 (+1 Dex, +4 armour, +2 shield), touch 11, flat-footed 16
Init: +1
BAB: +1
Speed: 20 feet
Gender: Male
Age: 58
Hair: Red
Skin: Ruddy
Eyes: Grey
Height: 4'5
Weight: 226 lbs
Saves:
Fortitude: +6 (+2 base, +4 Constitution)
Reflex: +1 (+0 base, +1 Dexterity)
Will: +0 (+0 base, +0 Wisdom)
Attacks:
Dwarven waraxe +5 melee (1d10+4, x3)
Javelin +2 ranged (1d6+4, x2, 30 ft)
Special Abilities:
Dwarven Tank: Speed is not reduced due to armour
Darkvision 60 ft: See in black and white without needing a light source
Stonecunning: +2 Search for unusual stonework
Weapon Familiarity (dwarf waraxe, dwarf urgrosh)
Stability: +4 vs. bull rushes or trips when standing on the ground
+2 on saves vs. poison
+2 on saves vs. spells and spell-like effects
+1 on attacks vs. orcs and goblinoids
+4 to AC vs. giants
+2 Appraise with stone and metal items
+2 Craft related to stone and metal
Noisome Fart
Feats:
[1st] Power Attack
[Fighter bonus 1st] Cleave
Skills:
Climb +0 (2 ranks, +4 Strength, -6 armour check penalty)
Jump +0 (2 ranks, +4 Strength, -6 armour check penalty)
Languages:
Dwarven, Common, High Moron
Possessions:
Dwarven waraxe (8 lbs)
2 javelins (4 lbs)
Heavy wooden shield (10 lbs)
Scale mail (30 lbs)
Backpack (2 lbs)
Bedroll (5 lbs)
6 days rations (6 lbs)
Waterskin (4 lbs)
Whetstone (1 lb)
Potion of cure light wounds (0 lbs)
Pot of ground hot peppers (0 lbs, spent 4 gp)
Flask of ale (1 lb)
Map to the City (0 lbs)
Signet ring (0 lbs)
Flint & steel (0 lbs)
19 gp, 8 sp, 7 cp
Carried for Locke:
Crowbar (5 lbs)
Caltrops (2 lbs)
Bedroll (5 lbs)
Grappling hook (4 lbs)
3 torches (3 lbs)
Silk rope (5 lbs)
95 lbs carried (light load)
100 lbs light load, 101-200 lbs medium load, 201-300 lbs heavy load
Background:
Thorin Magrundson, Prince of Craghammer, is, at first glance, everything dwarves could hope for in a future king. A proud, stubborn, and honourable man capable of drinking a horse under the table and wrestling an ox into submission, Thorin is a very powerful warrior with a history of victories over orcs and goblins, the great enemies of the dwarf race. There is just one problem – Thorin Magrundson, Prince of Craghammer, is slower than a tortoise stuck to a pan of molasses with sovereign glue.
Since a young age, any kind of learning apart from hitting things with an axe has eluded Thorin. As a future general, he is expected to understand issues of strategy and logistics, but he has yet to demonstrate any comprehension of tactics more complicated than the charge. As King Thorin will be expected to uphold his peoples’ interests in dealings with other kingdoms and races, a task made difficult due to his tendency to forget the motivations, customs, beliefs, and simple existence of those beyond his immediate circle. He is supposed to inspire and lead those around him, but occasionally finds it difficult to remember their names, even while sober.
In his early years, his father and his (younger) brothers treated him with the kind of weary acceptance that one would show a moronically endearing pet. Surely, there was no way this specimen of stupidity would actually survive to claim the throne! They assured themselves that his idiocy would, at length, get Thorin killed and one of his far more suitable younger brothers could succeed to the throne of Craghammer.
As the years have gone by, they have watched with increasing horror as Thorin has somehow blundered his way to success after success, bolstered by the efforts of dwarf lords who enjoy the notion of a monarch who can be easily led and is too stupid to notice their plays for greater power. Thorin has grown increasingly boastful as time goes on, and in one last desperate play, the ageing Magrund decided to use Thorin’s pride to try to send him out to the world on his own where some merciful monster could end the nightmarish spectre of Thorin’s kingship.
One night several months ago, shortly after Thorin returned from victory over a band of orcs, Magrund spoke to his son privately. He praised Thorin to the skies, lauding him as the greatest of young dwarf warriors, so powerful that no orc or goblin would ever withstand him. Craghammer, he said, was too small for Thorin – he could never demonstrate his true potential in its over-familiar environs. Instead, to truly show his potential and demonstrate his greatness, Thorin needed a true challenge…and Magrund had discovered one. Thorin puffed out his chest and roared that he would gladly take on anything to prove himself in his father’s eyes, and Magrund smiled. He told Thorin of the great Dungeon of Doom, in a faraway human city in the west, whose name Thorin promptly forgot. Filled with treasure and monsters, it seemed to shift as each new group entered its confines…and, they said, not a single soul had seen its bottom levels and discovered its true secrets.
Pumping his fist, Thorin vowed by Moradin that he would go to this Dungeon and fight his way to its deepest depths. Beaming proudly, the ageing King rose and gave Thorin a map to the City, which was covered with strange yet somehow familiar runes. The King told Thorin that he should go at once, lest cowards attempt to dissuade him from braving the terrible Dungeon. Filled with resolve, Thorin gathered his gear and departed from Craghammer on a long journey to the south.
Many gruelling weeks passed. Thorin often peered at his father's map, trying to understand why the runes looked familiar, seeing if he could work out the meaning of the strange symbols. One night, he sat and prayed for several hours, imploring Moradin to tell him the meaning of the bizarre runes, staring intently all the while at the map. Thorin was on the verge of falling asleep - or perhaps he had - when he heard a soft, wise dwarven voice.
“You’re holding the map the wrong way up.”
Eureka! Filled with resolve, Thorin leapt up, turned the map the right way up, gathered his gear, and departed on a long journey to the northwest, thanking Moradin for his gracious intervention.
“I wonder who that was,” said the passing Dwarven merchant.
Personality:
Thorin is proud, stubborn, and honourable. He dislikes relying on tricks, particularly ones he can't understand, and he steadfastly keeps every promise he makes as long as he doesn't forget it. Thorin is a born leader, which is to say that he leads due to his high birth rather than because he is in any way suitable to the role. He is used to giving commands and expects to have them carried out, but he is easily distracted and will listen to advice as long as the person giving it sounds confident. Thorin is convinced of his own greatness and boasts loudly of his achievements to anyone who will listen, which often proves to be a large number because few people want to risk offending a thick-muscled, thick-headed dwarf with an axe. Thorin's speech is off-hand, tactless, and frequently unintentionally insulting. This is not because Thorin is an evil person - in truth, he lacks a malicious bone in his body - but rather because he has a very high opinion of himself, can rarely fully remember who those around him are, and has a rather unique take on what constitutes ordinary speech and social conventions. Thorin's memory has been unfavourably compared to that of a gnat, his manners to those of a rabid cow, and his personal hygiene to that of a diarrhetic skunk. When dealing with Thorin, the best plans of attack are to distract him through flattery, alcohol, stories, or shiny trinkets, or to point him towards something he can belt as hard as he can with his axe.
Thorin has been told a number of unlikely tales about what behaviour humans expect from dwarves. For one, he has been informed that humans expect to close every conversation with a dwarf by having both parties spit in their palms and then shake. He has also been informed that the way to indicate agreement with a human is to make a fist and shake the wrist back and forth, a hand motion which has earned him a number of startled looks from humans he has met in his travels. Thorin assumes they are surprised to meet such a dwarf who is so versed in human manners.
Physical Description:
Thorin is extremely tall (for a dwarf) and broad, with a thick neck and big, corded muscles. His most immediately noticeable characteristics are his burned face and his lack of a beard. This is because, while drunk and celebrating his victory over a group of orcs not long ago, Thorin managed to set his beard aflame. Thorin's cheeks and jaw are blackened and covered in scars, both from the fire and other battles. He has been told that his beard will grow back thicker and fiercer if he rubs ground hot peppers onto the scars every morning - this is very painful and his beard has yet to grow back, but Thorin is not easily deterred by failure, evidence, or common sense. He has long hair the colour of fire, eyes with the colour, strength, and smarts of stone, and a big, bulbous nose. He carries a dwarf waraxe, a battered wooden shield with a faded device of a flaming mug of ale, scale armour, and a dented helm.