Player Character - Aneil
Weight: 230 pounds
Languages: Common and Wolf
Hit Points: 44
Movement Speed: 8 (-1 due to weight)
Armor Class: reforged spiked armor + 2 from dex =20 AC
Chain Weapon Attack: 5 from str + 2 + 2 = 9
Chain Blade Damage = 3 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 11
- +4 lighting damage
- Life Steal lvl 2: 1d6 health (not Damage) for one attack with blade.
Mulaag Damage = 2d8 +5 + 2
Ring Sword Attack = 5 +2 = 7
Ring Sword Damage = 3 + 2 = 5
Chain Cyclone +2 to attack and damage rolls
Roundhouse Kick 2d6 + 2d4
Spiked armor +2 to AC, enemies take a -3 to damage rolls and if grappled takes 2 damage
Dwarven steel footwraps: +2d4 to kicks
Chain: 1d6 bleed damage. (impales target on contact)
Dwarven Chain Blade: 1d6 piercing damage. (Impales target on contact)
Dwarven Chain Blade: +4 lightning damage
(2)Ring Swords (Honed): 2d6
Mulaag(Chain Hammer)(Orcish Steel) (Honed): 2d8 Bludgeoning
Potara Earring of Speech
Mask of Bane: 60 feet of darkvision
Mysterious egg (1)
10 Heath potions
40 feet barbed steel chain
3 Poison Flasks
- (1) poison flask for Rapier
- (3) per poison flask for chain blade
Feral Bite (level 1): You can take a bite out of any creature dealing 2d4 damage and regaining (if it is a fleshy creature) that much health in the process. If the target is affected by an aliment you must make a Dex check in order to not be affected by it.
Character Abilities (Passive)
Wolf instinct (level 1)when making perception rolls the play gains +2 to the roll.
Dual Wielding (level 1): The character has become exceptional in the art of dual wielding. +2 attack/damage rolls.
Primal Instinct (Honed): Your tribe’s training regiment along with the honing training techniques have allowed you to harness the primitive instinct of flight. The player’s “flight” lets them instinctively dodge out of the way of 2 attacks per encounter. No saving throw for area of effect attack.
Chain Weaponry (level 2): The player has exceptional skill with the art of throwing chain weapons. Thus allowing the player to throw and pull back in one attack. Player makes a Str check/target (Small,Medium) being pulled must make a Str check or be dragged towards the player or character pulls himself towards them. Target is grappled if pulled. Does not take disadvantage to small targets, rolls with advantage for medium and large targets. +2 to attack and damage rolls.
- ( If target is 10ft away Target is pulled towards player. )
- (If target is 20ft away player pulls target and themselves towards each other. This doesn’t count as a movement for the player)
Ranged Might (level 1): Any ranged attacks made by this player are now based off of strength instead of dexterity due to training regimen and backstory
Character Abilities (Active)
Chain Cyclone (level 1): The player sweeps the chain with a radius equal to the maximum length of chain in a circle. Enemies must succeed a dexterity check equal to 15 or higher. If the check succeeds the enemies take half damage.
Echos of the Hunt (level 1) The player howls ring out in the area bolstering or hindering all that hear them. Each howl uses a major action to preform it.
- Frightful roar All enemies in the ear shot distance must make a Int check of 15. If the enemy fails this check the enemy takes disadvantage until they can resist the fear. If the enemy resist the fear, they can not be Frighten again by this roar for 24hrs
- Thrill of the huntThe player howls in excitement of the kill. All allies in ear shot gain inspiration of a 1d4 to any roll.
Cirroc Snakeoak was born in the woods to the south of the Capital city; Castiel. The woods were inhabited by the Kanyian Navahawk tribe, who coexisted with the environment and other tribes, for the most part, peacefully. The Navahawk were and old tribe, possibly, one of the first tribes to settle and cultivate land in Runithia. There was always a bitter rivalry between the Navahawk and the human race that inhabited the towns and villages in the area at that time. The rivalry has somewhat dissapated to brawls, far and few between, in the present day. The reasoning for this rivalry was the fact that humans feared and slaughtered Werewolves, cousins of the Kanyians. Werewolves are uncivilized, barbaric and lacked common communication and sense, which let to their species becoming endangered.
Cirroc was born in his village as one of the weaker cubs, and because of that wasn’t really shown any initiative. His parents were two of the strongest Kanyians in the village, and they had other cubs before him. Cirroc was the last of his pack, coincidentally. His brothers and sister were all much older, stronger and faster than he was, and at about the age of 5 he didn’t see himself becoming a warrior in his clan. Each of the tribes of the Kanyians have a selected elite warrior subclan that protects the clan as a whole. These are among the strongest, cleverest, most agile, most skilled and most fearless of the clan. Every one of Cirroc’s brothers had qualified to undertake the training to be part of the warriors from the age of 5, the youngest being 4. Cirroc then had to do jobs he saw as menial, such as fashioning cookware and retrieving arrows for the warriors. Eventually, around the age of 7 he convinced the village elders to become an apprentice for the blacksmith. The blacksmith, Rallos, was a former warrior who had a knack for forging weapons. His father before him built the forge he worked at, and took pride in how hot the fires were, needing little fire salts. Rallos begrudgingly took little Cirroc in as an apprentice, since he was deemed unable by the elders and councilwolves to wield a battleaxe or even a sword proficiently. Rallos initially started CIrroc with menial jobs such as fetching water, or leather strips or even just going to the local market for some whetstone or ingots. Cirroc grew very tired and bored of this, and he would always pass the training facility whenever he was sent anywhere. He would always stay for a few minutes and watch, becoming increasingly jealous and his feeling of incompetence grew with each pass. However, he kept his head held high and helped out with whatever he could.
One day, Rallos needed a certain kind of orchalium for one of the ceremonial halberds to be presented at a major celebration. The celebration was the warriors coming back home from an attack on their cousin village to the north. After checking the reserves and the market and local shops, it was apparent to Rallos that he didn’t have any orchalium anywhere in the village. After sending Cirroc to the elders, the elders gave Cirroc a map of the area south of the village and circled an area that they believed had a vein of orchalium. CIrroc brought the map back and Rallos saw that it was at least a fourteen day trek to the vein, and he could reach it by himself. However, to bring back all the ore needed would be a two Kanyian job, even with mounts. Rallos made the decision to take Cirroc on the journey, solely to be the “mule” to carry the bulk of the ore on the way back. Rallos also saw that the area in question was inhabited by bandits and felt uncomfortable bringing Cirroc along. However, he needed the extra person, and with the majority of the warriors being out of town, Cirroc was the only one ready to partake on the journey. On the eve of the trek, after Rallos had Cirroc fetch all of the materials and supplies to bring along, Rallos led Cirroc to the back room of the forge and pushed a bookshelf to the side. Behind the bookshelf was a door that led to a large room. In this room was all sorts of weapons, from daggers to ring swords and clubs to crossbows. He told Cirroc to stay in the room and choose what he thought would be a weapon that he’d use most effectively and then to come out to the sparring yard when he was done. Cirroc looked around and picked up a few axes testing their weight and sharpness but didn’t totally feel comfortable with them. He picked up a shortbow and shot a few arrows, but he failed to hit anywhere near his mark the first few times. He picked up a hammer and although it felt good in his hand, when he swung he accidentally smashed the hammer into a suit of armor, damaging the hammer. After gingerly putting it down, he picked up a short sword (very similar to the blade of woe) and he felt pretty confident stabbing and slicing with it. He then picked up a flail and swung it around a few times, dextriously using the chain pretty well for an amateur He then picked up a sword and swung it around, but he felt more comfortable with the flail, so he held onto that. As he emerged from the mini-armory, Rallos looked over his selection and scoffed to himself. He beckoned to Cirroc and led him to the training grounds. It was very late, and Rallos had to light the torches that encompassed the field. He then drew his weapons, two scimitars, and stood in a battle ready stance. He told Cirroc to attack whenever he was ready. Cirroc immediately rushed at Rallos, catching Rallos slightly off guard. However, he was quick to react and when Cirroc unfurled the flail at him, he was able to dodge with ease and dropped his scimitars. He quickly found an opening and punched a wide open Cirroc in the side, causing Cirroc to wince and retreat. Rallos picked up his scimitars and Cirroc rushed again, flailing with the flail. Rallos once again was able to evade with ease, and was slowly starting to regret agreeing to take Cirroc along. As the night turned into early morning, Cirroc was finally able to swing the flail properly, but still not as efficiently as Rallos would like. Cirroc felt like he could wield the flail with some sort of proficiency After a short rest, they departed in the late morning.
The trek started of easy the first day, the carriage departing early as Rallos commanded the mount. Cirroc stayed in the rear area of the carriage trying to recover from the beating he had the previous night. After a few hours, Rallos started to feel some sort of unease. He tried smelling the air and listening to any sort of differences in the air and the forest around them, but couldn’t find anything out of the open. He shrugged it off, as he thought that he was skilled enough to take down any sort of threat and the duo carried on. They made camp at night as they ate some of the provisions that they had packed and Rallos took first watch. As Cirroc slept, Rallos still felt the unease that he felt earlier. Now, the only sounds he could hear was the crackling of the fire, the wind through the trees and his and Cirroc’s breathing. He walked around the camp to reach for his scimitars, As he reached for the closest one, he could sense some sort of projectile flying at him from the forest to his right. Instinctively he dodged as the arrow flew into the tree behind him, hitting it with a solid “thunk”. Two more arrows flew at Rallos as he dove for his scimitars, grabbing them and diving out of sight. He yelled to Cirroc to wake up as he saw a figure headed towards him. Rallos looked into the forest with very little light, even from the moon as the leaves cast everything in shadow. He could make 4 outlines out, about 200 feet away. He looked toward Cirroc as Cirroc woke up. Cirroc woke up with a start and instantly felt that something was wrong. As he looked up, he saw the head of an axe come swinging down from what seemed out of nowhere. Cirroc rolled out of the way instinctively as the heavy battle axe came crashing down where his head was just seconds before. The axe actually struck the ground with so much force that it was embedded in the ground, unable to be pulled out easily. As Cirroc got to his feet, he could just make out a faint shadow to his left closing in quickly as he was struck by a shield and thrown like a ragdoll next to the fire. Cirroc rolled to his right and glanced around for some sort of weapon. As luck would have it, the flail was a few feet on his right, away from the fire. As Cirroc dove for the flail, he put the fire between him and the figure with the axe. As he picked up the flail and rolled onto his hind legs, the figure with the hammer leaped over the fire and swung. Cirroc was still out of reach, so he evaded the attack, leaped, wound up and put all of his strength into swinging the flail into the direction of the figure that he could see now was a humanoid person with headwraps making it impossible to make out any features. The armor of this humanoid presence was made entirely of steel as it glinted in the firelight. In fact, the figure was entirely clad in steel, except for his head. As the flail crashed into the now wide open man of steel armor, the force of the hit raised the him off the ground as he tripped over his feet and fell backwards, into the campfire. The warhammer was dislodged from his grasp, and Cirroc roared a mighty roar as he wound up and swung the flail again on top of the figure now trying to escape the fire.As all of this is happening, Rallos was charging toward the figures in the trees. As he closed in on the nearest one his foot his something on the ground and he threw himself to the right. This was right in time, as a rope trap quickly went off, capturing nothing but a few leaves and sticks. Rallos caught himself and heard the twang of arrows being fired. He was able to see fine in this low light and he ducked behind a tree as four arrows hit the tree with enough force to splinter the trunk. Rallos, seeing an opportunity to advance ran from tree to tree, evading arrows that were being fired. As he got closer and closer to the sounds of the arrows being fired, he went prone and began circling around the figures. He looked back toward the camp and he saw 2 figures squaring off, one figure slamming another figure square in the midsection, throwing the hit figure onto the fire. He hoped it wasn’t Cirroc, and that if it was, he could survive a few minutes longer. Rallos crept closer and closer to the area that the figures were, and he heard muttering coming from the figures ahead of him. He kept a wide distance between him and the figures and he crawled around the figures so he was fully hidden. He raised his head and looked at the the four figures that were in the forest. In the low light he was able to make out that they were wearing basic hide armor, and looked raggedy, like bandits. They were armed pretty well for bandits, he saw. Two of the bandits were wielding one handed axes, one holding a shield and the other holding a dagger. The other two bandits both had bows and arrows. One of the archers shot a few arrows into the trees where Rallos was initially, before he dropped to all fours. Rallos drew his scimitars and crept closer and closer to the archer in the back, seeing that as the easiest to hit first. As Rallos got closer and closer he could see that one of them was wearing helmet, but the others for the most part only had the armor on their backs and feet. Without warning, Rallos sprinted toward the archer he had his eye, with his arms gripping his scimitars tightly. The archer heard the commotion and looked behind her as she saw a black-grey wolf charge out from the underbrush. She readied an arrow and shot it, not putting all her strength into the shot and not aiming properly because of the shock of Rallos being so close. Rallos, assuming the weak trajectory of the arrow, swung his left arm up deflecting arrow away from him without missing a step. He twirled like a top, following the momentum of his first swing and thrust his right arm in a slicing motion into the side of his opponent, cutting through her armor and slicing into her chest. As blood poured out of the armor, Rallos felt re invigorated with strength and he felt like a much younger version of himself, as if he was reverting back to a primal state. His senses were all heightened immensely and he could feel all of his senses heightening. He could taste the blood in the air and smell campfire that was hundreds of feet away. As the archer in front of him dropped to to her ankle to grab a knife that was strapped there, Rallos sent a vicious sidekick into the head of the archer, throwing her body sideways, knocked out. The bandit with the axe and shield beat his shield with the flat side of the axe and rushed Rallos as his fellow bandit fell to the ground, body limp. He charged Rallos with a shield bash, but with Rallos in this heightened primal state, he easily sidestepped the shield and rammed one of his scimitars deep in the bandit’s ribs. Almost immediately Rallos drove his other scimitar into the neck of the bandit, cleaving through all the muscles and bone of the neck and shoulder as the bandit dropped his axe, arm hanging loosely. Rallos then swung upward with the scimitar in the ribcage, brutally tearing his body apart. As Rallos threw the torn body aside he roared a deafening roar, and glared at the remaining two bandits. The bandit with the axe threw the in his hand at Rallos and rushed at him. The other archer, unable to maintain a clear shot, turned around and sprinted toward the campsite. Instinctively, Rallos dodged the dagger and faked a hit at the bandit. The bandit sidestepped to avoid the hit and swung at the same time. With ease, Rallos swatted the axe away and whirled around viciously, swinging his fist with blazing speed into the bottom of the bandit’s spine. The bandit, let out a wail as his spine splintered, paralyzing him instantly as he dropped to the ground. Rallos raised both scimitars in the air and swung down with all the force he could muster, delivering a crushing blow to the bandit’s neck, slicing right through it, decapitating him. Breathing heavily and still surging with power he looked towards where the last remaining archer was. She already went a far way, almost halfway to the clearing. Rallos then heard a savage roar, much more savage than his own come from the clearing. He was shocked, as the roar sounded like Cirroc. He returned the roar with an earsplitting roar of his own and dropped to all fours. It only look him six bounds to reach the archer. He couldn’t see the archers face because of the helmet, but he could taste the fear as the chase came to a close. He pounced and grappled the archer sideways, driving him into the earth. The force of the slam splintered the bow in the archers hand and the archer began to yell. Rallos, without skipping a beat, opened his mouth wide and clamped his jaws down in the back of the bandit’s neck. He could taste the blood pooling in his mouth and smell the aroma of death in the air. The bandit was silenced as his throat was getting crushed and Rallos turned his head, snapping the bandit’s neck instantly. The bandit’s body went limp and Rallos stepped over his body, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and began charging towards the campsite.
While Rallos charged deep into the forest, Cirroc swung at the steel clad figure now in the fire, unable to get out. He heard the figure let out a grunt as the flail slammed solidly into the chestplate, denting it slightly. As Cirroc retracted the flail, he swung again to hit the man in steel again. only, this time he saw a glint of metal over the fire as he swung. A battleaxe sliced straight through the chain on the flail, sending the ball at the end spinning off into the darkness. Attached to the battleaxe was a figure who was dressed in hide armor, from what Cirroc could see. The figure, or bandit that Cirroc could discern, sprinted around the fire and charged at him. Cirroc threw himself and rolled sideways as the heavy axe whistled through the air and hit the ground and became embedded again with the force hitting the ground. Muttering and cursing to himself, the bandit tried to pull the axe from the ground. Cirroc got up and looked for a weapon to his left and right, but didn’t see anything useful. He pulled the dagger he had in his belt and held it in one hand ready to charge the bandit. At this point, he heard a deafening, roar emit from the forest and a shockwave went through Cirroc’s being. His hair stood up on end as he felt something deep inside him stir and awaken, as though some sort of barrier was shattered. He felt power surging through his being, almost overwhelming him. Cirroc glanced up at the bandit, who was still trying to pull the axe out of the ground. Cirroc advanced forward with the dagger raised as the bandit turned and pulled out a large wicked looking knife. The blade gleamed menacingly in the firelight. Cirroc, full of this new-found strength and agility charged forwards at the bandit. The bandit looked at him, unsure of himself now, sensing something was different, and lunged forward with the knife. Cirroc dodged the stab with a quick sidestep and kept him momentum going, clothes-lining the bandit and slicing him with the dagger. The bandit cried out as the blade pierced his skin and he turned to swing the blade again. Cirroc stepped back as the swing missed him again and crouched. Will an immense amount of power he exploded out of the crouch and opened his jaws wide aiming for the bandit’s exposed neck. As his jaws closed in on his neck, the bandit thrust up and drove the blade deeply into Cirroc’s ribcage and twisted violently. Cirroc, enraged beyond belief clamped his jaws down ever harder, crushing the bandit’s windpipe and shredding his neck. Cirroc actually bit down with so much power that his teeth got lodged in the muscles and bone of the throat. Pushing down on the bandit’s face, he pulled with his mouth and tore off the bandit’s throat with his teeth, spitting it out with delight. He cocked his head back and unleashed a primal roar and then turned around as he heard movement behind him. In front of the fire was the steel clad bandit, on his feet and wielding the hammer. He didn’t advance, however. Cirroc could smell the charred flesh of the figure in front of him as he licked his chops, salivating at the challenge. He looked down, and pulled the blade out of his body, wincing and growling in pain as he did so. He looked up and the warrior began to unwrap the bandaging covering his head and unhooking a silver helm on his belt. Cirroc fell to one knee suddenly, weakened by the amount of blood lost through the wound below his chest. The steel warrior saw his opportunity to strike and he clenched the hammer, ready to make a move. At that instance, there was a deal of commotion and crashing coming from the forest, coming closer.
Rallos emerged from the forest, and surveyed the situation. He saw the dead bandit to his left and he could sense that there was something different about Cirroc, somewhat more deadly, savage and primal. He then looked over to Cirroc and he rushed over, but before he could make it all the way the steel warrior let out a shout and moved toward Rallos. Rallos drew his scimitars and clashed them together. The chief bandit, as Rallos could make him out as, covered his head with his helm and readied his weapon. Cirroc still couldn’t find the strength to get up and was using the blade as a way to stay upright. Rallos charged the bandit leader and swung with his left hand, scimitar hitting the pommel of the battlehammer as the leader parried the blow and stepped back. Rallos faked with the right arm and attacked left but the leader wasn’t fooled, parrying again. This time, he thrust forward with the hammer nicking Rallos’s chin and snapping his head down. The leader then spun around and swung the hammer in a circle almost like a spinning top and connected with Rallos’s chest, knocking him off his feet and threw him into a tree. At this point Cirroc succumbed to his pain and exhaustion and passed out. Rallos, now battered and exhausted got up and rolled to his right as the giant warhammer came down with in immense amount of force, splintering the tree, causing it to topple over and fall. Rallos rolled away to evade the tree as his feeling of savagery and primal instinct waned. The bandit leader leaped over the fallen tree and swung his hammer at Rallos. Rallos wasn’t quick enough to dodge as the hammer hit him in the leg, knocking him to the ground.
As the bandit chief raised the warhammer to bring it down on Rallos, he staggered as he got hit by an arrow from the woods. This gave Rallos enough time to roll over and spring to his feet, somewhat groggily. Another arrow split the air in two and hit the bandit in the shoulder with a satisfying thwack. The bandit leader, now very confused looked towards the forest when he got hit by another arrow, this time glancing off his armor and skittering a few feet away. Rallos, seeing his best opportunity, lunged forward with both scimitars and swung both toward the bandit leader’s arm. The blades hit the steel and the shock caused the bandit leader to lose his grip of the hammer in one hand. Rallos then kicked at the other hand, bruising it quite a bit and causing him to drop the hammer. The chief, not knowing what to do, turned to run towards the forest only to be hit by another arrow in the chest, piercing his already dented armor from when Cirroc was attacking earlier. Rallos then swung at the back of the leader’s helm and it went flying off past the fallen tree. With the bandit leader’s head exposed, two arrow hit their mark as they, almost simultaneously hit the leader in the face. These last two blows proved to be too much for the chief as he fell to the ground and his body went limp. Rallos, overcome by the exhaustion and crushing blows endured on top of the coming down from his heightened state, fell to his knees and then his side, passed out.
Cirroc woke up next to a blazing fire, sore all over and in a considerable amount of pain. He looked under his armor and the wound had been cleaned, and already began healing. He looked across the fire and saw Rallos on his back, sleeping deeply. Next to Rallos was another Kenyian who Cirroc had never seen before. She was attending to a slice in the chestplate of her hide armor, and she had a nasty gash running the length of her chest. He looked over at the fire and there was a cookpot with something delicious smelling inside. As Cirroc moved to get up onto his elbows, a firelike pain shot through his chest and ribs, stopping him immediately. He groaned as this happened, alerting the other Kanyian he was awake. The Kanyian went for her bow and cocked an arrow, ready to shoot. After telling her that he was in too much pain to even think of attacking her, Cirroc rolled over onto his back, trying to find a comfortable spot. The female Kanyian lowered her bow and a concerned look came over her face. She got up and sat next to Cirroc, adjusting the coals of the fire with an arrow. Cirroc looked over at her and asked who she was. She replied that her name was Azearia and that she was not a Kanyian from around these parts. She explained her backstory, as she was taken from her tribe as a cub and enslaved by the bandit chief who they killed. She spoke about how she’s lived her life on the road, raiding passerby and caravans to survive, and how the bandit leader treated her. Cirroc, seeing she was honest and true started to explain his backstory, about his inability to keep up with other warriors in his clan and his jealousy. She commented on his ability to fight, and he told her that he unleashed some sort of deep power within himself, that gave him primal instincts and reactions. She looked shocked for a second and went over to Rallos. She removed his armor on his torso and resting on his chest was a pendant, shaped as a wolf paw. In pad area of the paw, there was a emerald, shining brightly in the firelight. She showed Cirroc and explained the origins of the pendant. There was a pendant for each and every tribe, and that the chosen one, a very skilled fighter or clever tactician would don the pendant. She went on to say that these pendants were very powerful and unlocked a door somewhere, but she thought as a cub it was all just a myth. She had heard, however that the chosen could tap into their ancestral power and primal instincts and unleash unimaginable power upon their enemies. The Kings of old would use these Kanyians to clear out entire cities and armies to conquer and expand their empires.