Dross

http://fc30.deviantart.com/fs45/f/2009/061/a/f/Ahrck__Tiefling_Ranger_by_kmcgeijyutsuka.jpg

Unaligned Male Tiefling Bard

Level 1

Paragon Path: Turathi Highborn

Ability Scores

Strength 9 [-1]

Constitution 14 [+2]

Dexterity 10 [+0]

Intelligence 15 [+2]

Wisdom 10 [+0]

Charisma 16 [+3]

Health

HP 26

Bloodied 13

Surge Value 6

Healing Surges 9

Senses and Movement

Initiative +0

Passive Insight 10

Passive Perception 10

Low-Light Vision

Speed 6

Defenses

AC 16

Fortitude 12

Reflex 14

Will 15

Skills

Acrobatics +5

Arcana +9

Athletics -1

Bluff +10

Diplomacy +8

Dungeoneering +2

Endurance +0

Heal +0

History +7

Insight +0

Intimidate +3

Nature +2

Perception +0

Religion +4

Stealth +2

Streetwise +10

Thievery +0

Feats

Armor Proficiency (Cloth, Leather, Hide, Chain, Light Shield)

Bardic Knowledge

Ritual Caster

Weapon Proficiency (All Simple, Military Ranged, Longsword, Scimitar, Short Sword)

Racial Features

Blood Hunt

Fire Resistance

Infernal Wrath

Class Features

Bardic Training

Bardic Virtue of Cunning

Majestic Word

Multiclass Versatility

Song of Rest

Words of Friendship

Powers

At-Will

Melee Basic Attack: Mace (+1 vs. AC, 1d8-1 damage)

Ranged Basic Attack: Blowgun (+ vs. AC, d+0 damage, range /)

Vicious Mockery (1)

War Song Strike (1)

Encounter

Blunder (1)

Daily

Slayer's Song (1)

Gear

Hide Armor

Bowgun

Mace

Wand

Adventurers Kit

18g

Rituals

Animal Messenger

Glib Limerik

Languages

Common, Elven

Background

Noble, Scion of an Ancient Bloodline, Urban

Dross grew up in the bad side of town, but in a rich home. His cloth merchant parents had plenty of money, but were uncaring and greedy. His artistic and adventurous spirit made him an outcast amongst outcasts, but he didn't really mind. It made good material for ballads and songs, and Dross would rather spend his time carousing and playing shows at inns than learning how to take over the family business anyhow.

The tiefling was pretty good with a lyre, and was doing alright, despite being the proverbial blacksheep. That is when his visions started.

At first he thought it was just heavy comedowns off of all the drinking and recreational drugs. He'd black-out and hallucinate. Dross would be in the middle of the second chorus of "Strangers boots at my hearth" when everything would go silent, and then he'd slip into a hazy land of heat and fire. There would be other tieflings around him. They wore expensive vestments, and intricate armoring. And they never called him Dross; always something else, like Kargath or Versumga. These slipvisions always involved violence. Beatings. Lashings. Fights. Always.

And then he'd snap back into reality, having passed out on the barroom floor, with curious patrons standing around wondering about his seizures.

Dross tried to cool down on the shinsta grass and the drinking, but it didn't help. The daydreams became more and more vivid, would last longer and longer His hallucinatory tormentors began cursing his Bloodline, calling him a traitor for signing a treaty with the humans. Calling him weak, a thinblooded pissant of a half-deamon. Dross fought back.

But when he snapped out of his vision this time, his hands were crimson red, as was the dagger in his hands, and at his feet lay his dead half-brother. So Dross fled from his family, and has been on the road ever since, doing what he knows best. Drinking and singing for money. Trying not to think about the visions too much.

Appearance and Behavior

Dross is in his late twenties. Not very athletic, skinny, pasty skin. Pale red complexion, washed out from too much dragon-salt... But there is something about him. Something mischievous, and honest and unassuming in his brown eyes. Like, he'll be your best friend, and he knows all these good songs on the lyre, and he will play, and you will drink, and it will be the best time ever!

Dross is like a boy that never grew up; a boy that enjoys heavy drugs, drinking and women.

The tiefling dresses in fairly earthy, simple clothes. Kinda trashy, a hole-at-the knee, lots of little bracelets and trinkets. He likes black, brown and red, and mixes some yellow and blue in to make sure he really pops. Dross' only really gaudy piece is his cloak, the one with the low cut, ploofy top (see picture). Always wears a scarf around his neck, and he keeps his lyre with him at all times.

Allies

Riyah Endforsworn: I never thought I'd be drinking and dancing with a deva priestess, much less call her my friend, but whatever. I surprise even myself sometimes. Maybe it's because she's so down to earth. She never judged me. Never judged me for being a drunkard and a scoundrel, or demon-blooded either, for that matter.

I dunno, she calms me down, somehow. Something about her presence that makes me feel better. Saner. Shows me you don't always have to smoke shinsta and do lines of dungeon-salt to have a good time. I'd be lying if I said I'm not attracted by her, but nah. Too much work, and it would burn at least one bridge too many. Done enough of that in my life.

Always appreciated the way she never really preaches too me either. And we're still good, you know? I guess listening is a better convincer than words, in some cases.

Felaim Elswin: This guy is no joke. He's the real deal. If people like him ran the show, things would be a lot better all around. Would be a hell of a lot more stale too, but I guess that is a price you have to pay.

He doesn't like me though. Says I do too much blow and drink too much. If we had met under different circumstances, he'd probably poke my gut with that pointy stick of his and have me locked away, but whatever. We didn't, and he seems to be fine traveling with me for the present being, and that is all I need to know.

Everyone doesn't have to love me, as long as someone does.

Caleb Paine: He talks about shit that I don't really understand, politics and stuff. His ideas are pretty progressive though, and he is passionate about it. It seems to get the locals all fired up wherever we go too. Maybe I should start spicing my lyrics with his sentiments. Could be an interesting project.

He's a fun guy though, Caleb. He's a city boy, so we have a lot in common. Kinda hang in the same crowds too. And when the blasted innkeepers short-change me on my pay, I always know that his guy will lift their purses for me, and that is a quality that shows character, as far as I am concerned.

Asheth Barkeep: I've seen the way he looks at me. He thinks I am running from who I am. But this is who I am. This is me being me. Drinking, singing, stabbing some fucker who thinks he can mess with me. Alright, fine, saying it has nothing to do with my heritage is an overstatement. But I am more than my tiefling-horns.

I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, but it still kinda puts me down. He tries though, and I respect him for it. Asheth's blade is quick, and strong, and he is fun to spare with whenever we get some downtime. Now that I think of it, its hard to think of a time when he hasn't pulled through for me though, and that is a hell of a lot more than I can say for a lot of people I have met in my travels.

Links

John Galt runs "Scales of War"