Blixhaven
Blixhaven Zivatar. Human Scout.
Background
Blixhaven was born the third of four children. His father was a dedicated military officer in the service of the empire. At an early age, his father was given a lucrative high rank posting in the border town of Wasteward Keep. Although the posting was in a dangerous backwater part of the empire, it was an opportunity that could not be ignored for the modest military man. This earned him a modest estate and high standing amongst the local populace. Blixhaven grew up with strict rules and expectations. He and his siblings were taught well the ways of the land with constant training in local flora and fauna and how to be one with their environment. He had a bow and arrow in his hand for as long as he could remember and his father, also an expert marksman, taught him well the way of the archer. His family was well respected and known for the honor and courage instilled in them since childhood. He recalls a time as a young teen when the keep was suddenly and unexpectedly attacked by Genasi raiders swarming in from the wastes. Many of the soldiers were out responding to another threat and the keep was sorely pressed. Blixhaven picked up a bow from a fallen soldier and engaged the enemy alongside seasoned warriors twice his age and helped repel the attack. His courage and valor was recognized by the Lord and Governor of the keep. He was strongly encouraged and ushered into the ranks of the Border Scouts as soon as he came of age. He excelled in his training, known for his accuracy and speed, and soon was taken under the wing of his instructor, Kaylis Doran, a seasoned veteran scout who saw potential in Blixhaven. Blixhaven looked upon Kaylis with heroic fondness and with his guidance and training, he found himself graduated as one of the most promising and youngest Border Scouts in the Legion. He quickly fell into his role and learned to love his time in the field acting as the eyes and ears of the patrols. He relished being alone amongst the wilds and learned to listen to the land around him. He found himself more and more becoming detached from civilization and attuning himself to the environment in the wilds surrounding the keep. It was on one such patrol that everything changed in Blixhavens life…
The sun had just begun to burn through the morning haze as Blixhaven crouched amongst the waving grass upon a hilltop on the edge of the Gena Wastes. He was flank scout for a routine patrol. His mentor Kaylis had point and two other seasoned scouts covered the opposite flank and rear. The previous several days had proven mundane with no evidence of activity other than a small hamlet with scattered reports of unnatural storms. Rumors abounded along the Genasi border and many things were blamed on the nearby wastes. Most were unfounded but the scouts were ordered to be wary regardless. Blixhaven’s trained eyes scoured the rocky, misty terrain below. Nothing moved other than occasional small dust devils swirling through the morning fog. This morning seemed like any other, baked dusty landscape with sparse patches of grass and shrub and jagged wind ravaged rock. An inhospitable place, but somehow peaceful. A hawk circled high overhead, somewhere above the low lying clouds, and its mournful call caused the hairs to rise on the back of Blixhavens neck. The clouds glowed eerie shades of orange and purple in the morning light. All seemed peaceful yet still he crouched in the grass and watched. He knew the patrol waited below, thirty weary men eager to end the week long patrol, and return to their loved ones, or a flagon of ale at the tavern…whichever called the strongest. Yet still he hesitated. His training told him that everything here was as usual, and most would have given the all clear signal by now, but his instincts told him to wait…to watch. The hawk cried once more and banked away. All about the hillside, the insects and small creatures suddenly were silent. Blixhaven eased his bow from his shoulder and squinted into the dawning light. The dust devils had wheeled about and were converging toward his location, not as random winds would do. An aberration! As he turned to alert the patrol below, a great gust of wind whipped the grasses flat all about him and knocked him prone. Blinking dust from his eyes, he stared in awe at the heavens directly above. A huge whirling cloud of grey vapor was descending from the low lying clouds, directly above the patrol. Air elemental! He had never seen one so huge. And never this far out of the wastes. He leaped to his feat and ran down the hillside, his shouts lost in the whipping winds. The patrol was already reacting and a bolt of lightening arced high into the beast, with little effect. It had come under cover of the clouds and now was almost on top of them. A low thundering sound like an approaching storm shook the ground and quickly….so very quickly, the beast fell upon the patrol. It assumed a cone shape, like a tornado stretching wide and far overhead. Charging downhill, Blixhaven fired an arrow, quickly followed by another, both of which were swept away and sucked up into the clouds. A ball of fire exploded in the whirlwind and the flames weirdly stretched out in an arc with the wind and were extinguished. The caster was the first to be sucked up into the maelstrom and his screams blended with the increasing pitch of the winds. He vanished into the cloud. Dozens of spears and arrows arced at the beast and if they had any effect, Blixhaven couldn’t tell as they joined the whirling debri. Then the base of the cone touched the ground and Blixhaven stumbled. The ground shook and the battlefield exploded in a cloud of flying debri and dust. He watched as several flailing soldiers were sucked up to disappear into the debri cloud. The roar was deafening. Such power. Blixhaven spun at a loud thud behind him. The mangled body of a soldier lay pulverized and sprawled upon the ground, having been dropped from a great height. Two smaller elementals had crested the hilltop he had just vacated but seemed satisfied to watch the destruction below. Two soldiers fled past Blixhaven, jostling him in their haste, their arms waving wildly after having discarded their weapons. A great ball of wind, like a giant fist swept past him and scooped the two men up and carried them into the sky. Blixhaven fired two more arrows at the beast but they were once again swept up and lost. The great cone was almost black now. Flashes of bodies and weapons and rocks and vegetation whirled by. Flying pebbles and dust stung his face. Then the fist descended and he felt the air sucked from his lungs. His feet where yanked from his boots and remained exactly where he had stood. He spun through the air and fought for breath which would not come. Debri pummeled him repeatedly and he flailed wildly through the chaos. Suddenly he stopped and seemed to hover before a dark and angry face formed of whirly black vapors in the center of the whirlwind. The scowling face seemed to study him for what seemed an eternity. Then suddenly he was rolling along the ground, an agonizing fire burning in his lungs. He came to rest against a pile of large boulders and lay awkwardly staring up at the torn sky. All at once the swollen angry cloud stopped. Just stopped. And everything trapped within it fell at once to the ground in a terrible avalanche. Then everything went dark. Blixhaven awoke sometime later. The sun was high in the west and the dust had long since settled. The clouds and mist long vanished. He tried to sit up and fiery pain shot through every fabric of his body. His blood had dried into a cake of reddish brown sand beneath where he lay. His face and body were layered in a fine coat of dust and pebbles. Slowly he rose and staggered about the scene. Tattered armor and bent or broken weapons riddled the field but no bodies could be seen. No severed limbs. No blood. No evidence of his patrol remained save for their disgorged armaments. Days later when Blixhaven stumbled into a Borderland hamlet, dehydrated and near death, the villagers feared him. His face was torn and disfigured. Pale from loss of blood and his body thin and weak, he was at first mistaken for the walking dead. His recovery was long and arduous. He was questioned many times and subsequent patrols confirmed his confusing report. Months later, Blixhaven was cleared to return to duty, but the events of that day still haunted him. His patrol, his friends, his mentor, all vanished. Were they all dead? Where were their carcasses? The whirling, flailing bodies cry out his name each night and that great scowling face haunts his dreams. He is quick still. His aim is still sharp, but he feels weak and broken and likely always will. His face and limbs are twisted and scarred. The people of Wasteward keep look upon him with repulsion and pity. Haunted and scarred, he reluctantly returns to duty, distancing himself socially. What else is he to do? But still the question burns in his mind. Why had he been spared?
Blixhaven served as the scout of the party for more than a month before meeting his untimely death, pierced by a lucky arrow from a fleeing Genasi bowman.
Stats
Scout Level 4, Human with intermediate air elemental bloodline
Str: 12 Dex: 17 Con: 15 Int: 13 Wis: 13 Cha: 5
Armour: Studded Leather Weapons: Longbow, Rapier, Dagger Feats: Weapon Groups Basic, Bows, and Light Blades, Precise Shot, Point Blank Shot, Improved Initiative, Dodge, Mobility, Far Shot Skills: Climb 4, Disable Device 3, Handle Animal -3, Heal 2, Hide 10, Jump 2, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) 2, Knowledge (Geography) 2, Knowledge (Nature) 2, Knowledge (Fey) 3, Knowledge (Local) 2, Knowlege (Elemental) 2, Listen 10, Move Silently 10, Open Lock 4, Ride 4, Search 8, Sense Motive 2, Spot 8, Survival 10, Swim 2, Tumble 7 Trait: Quick Flaw: Feeble
