A warforged battlerager, formerly and eventually of the 8th Sky and Light
|Wisdom||16||+3||Surges||Value = 8, Number per Day = 14|
|Charisma||7||-2||HP||35 (Bloodied 17)|
- Living Construct:
- +2 save vs. ongoing damage
- Use of attached and embedded components
- Don’t need to eat/drink/breathe, 4 hour resting with full awareness
- Can take 10 on death saving throws
- Can use Warforged Resolve
- Combat Challenge: Every Attack Marks enemies
- Combat Superiority: +Wis Mod bonus to OpAttacks – if the OA hits they stop moving and must spend an action to keep moving
- Battlerager Vigor: Gain +Con Mod Temporary Hit Points when hit in melee. Invigorating THPs stack with other THPs.
- Durpar Regional Benefit: You gain a +2 bonus to all Perception checks
- Scales of War – Missing Mentor: You add Perception and Insight to your class skill list, and you gain a +1 bonus to Perception and Insight checks.
Trained Skills: Perception, Insight, Endurance
Languages: Common, Primordial
Feats: Armor Proficiency – Plate
- Warhammer = Prof +2, 1d10, Hammer, Attached Component
- Throwing Hammer (x2) = Prof +2, 1d6 Range 5/10, Heavy Thrown, Offhand
- Plate Armor = AC Bonus +8, Speed -1, Check -2, Attached Component
- Heavy Shield = AC Bonus +2, Reflex Bonus +2, Check -2, Attached Component
- Backpack, Attached Component
- Sunrods (2), Attached Component
- Rope, hempen (50 ft.)
- Flint and steel
Money: 18gp 8 sp Total Weight: 64lb
The stone stockades of Rimlost look out over the water-filled crater of Glaur Lake and northwest across the Glaur Barrens, a dangerous terrain of earthmotes, changelands, and ruins of a devastated 100-mile wide Dawn Titan fortress. Those wishing to explore the strangely deep lake or the barrens often set base camp here. The barrens are an expanse of rusted iron, sparse vegetation, unmoored earthmotes, and death. Fissures open onto tunnels that plunge deep into the earth—tunnels that must be part of the destroyed Dawn Titan Fortress. The deeper one descends, the more likely one is to unearth a lump of melted gold or platinum. On the other hand, in the depths adventurers are also likely to find golemlike constructs possessed of a murderous pseudolife. Called anaxims, these creatures appear as conglomerations of iron, gears, shearing blades, and metallic hides jutting with too many cutting implements and rusted surfaces. Whatever the true nature of the Dawn Titan whose exploding fortress created the barrens, it is clear the entity was something of an artificer.
Rimlost is a secret known only to a very few, for it houses one of the cults that worship the Dawn Titans, praying for their return in the belief that they will slay or at least break the power of the dragons and restore the realm to a fanciful golden age of freedom. This belief is in strict contravention of the dragon lords’ edict, so these cults meet in utmost secrecy. Most have no secret knowledge or rituals, and thus their secret meetings are merely for show. A few, such as The Order of the Dawn in Mreyelundar, purport to possess relics of the Dawn Titans. The Order of the Dawn worships a massive skull that sometimes speaks. Members believe that the skull is from an ancient primordial killed by the dragon Gorloun. The skull’s booming words certainly seem impressive enough, but they are mostly riddles. The remaining dragons in power will drop all concerns to hunt down and exterminate anyone they believe is involved in such worship, for they have no desire to see their old masters roused from eons-long sleep on this continent, as happened in lost Shyr.
I was hauled through metallic tunnels out into bright sunlight. I was dragged into the stone stockades of Rimlost on the edges of Glaur Lake. Taken for just another oddity of metallic, stone, and wooden sculpture, salvagers extracted me from some nameless dungeon of the Glaur Barrens. Awoken, I began to talk in a language I later learned was outlawed (Primordial), causing quite a stir in the compound. Some there wanted to worship me, thinking perhaps I was an envoy of the Primordial whose fortress once towered over the region, and others wanted to destroy me, fearing I was a particularly sneaky anaxim, the type of golemlike monster commonly encountered in the ruins. Many, many years have passed since I left them all behind. They wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth.
The great wizard’s magical messenger,brass-skinned. A note written in an elegant hand, sweetly perfumed. An old war hero, called out of retirement. An ancient monument, eroded and overgrown but standing. The exposure by erosion of a long-buried door. A fallen temple, overgrown with moss and ivies. A madman hiding in the ruins of his former home, who remembers only snatches of his past.
I’ve been wandering this land for a very long time. I haven’t been hiding. It found me. It seems my would-be mentor has gotten better at creating messengers. The skull has seemingly proclaimed it is time…
When we find it, we’ll have shown again the stone determinacy of everything, of every soul. There will be precious little room for any hope at all. You can see how important a discovery like that would be. So, I have to take care of some business, and then I’ll do it again. I’ll just have to go back up-time and do it again.
Don’t think I didn’t expect this. I’m Henry Bone. Colonel Bone of the 8th Sky and Light. I kill so that there might be life. Nobody beats me. It is my fate, and yours, too.
They sucked down my heart to a little black hole, you cannot stab me. They wrote down my brain on a hard knot of space, you cannot turn me. Icicle spike from the eye of a star, I've come to kill you.
I am the Skyfaller. Forged for war. The Skyfalling 8th doesn’t exist yet, so I go by Glim. I’m no bigwig, not yet, not here. But my actions are responsible for keeping this possible future uncertain, balanced on the fulcrum of chaos and necessity. Keeping it free, so that I can go back and do my work.
Long ago they discovered that putting the control inside was ratifying what de facto had happened – that I had dispensed with God. But I had taken on a greater, and more harmful, illusion. The illusion of control. That A could do B. But that was false. Completely. No one can do. Things only happen, A and B are unreal, are names for parts that ought to be inseparable….
I am intended to survive, it is through survival that I may perform my work. I was created to be incredibly resilient, to rebound from injuries. Even alone and without my regiment I am fully capable of holding the front line, as I did when I turned that offensive around out on the Husk and gave the Chaos the what-for.
Tie in Docent.