Name: Jethro Roranson
Age: 72
Height: 5ft
Weight: 175lbs
Race: Halfblood - Dwelf (half dwarf, half elf)
Appearance: Has his father's fiery red hair and his mother's bright emerald eyes. Being born of an elven mother his hair is long and strait, and his beard is short and wiry. His head is more rounded than most dwarves and his ears come to an obvious point. Thicker and more dense than most elves his shoulders and muscles are well toned. Also being born to an elven mother he has five toes to each foot instead of the dwarven seven. Finally to whom it may concern he has a tattoo on his left breast. A clamshell with a spiraling teardrop carved into it. The symbol of his deity, the goddess of the wilderness, Melora.
Class: Ranger
Path: Beast Master
Favored Enemy: Magical Beasts
Favored Terrain: Mountains
Instrument: Pan Flute
Trophy: Bear Paw (Necklace)
Stats:
Str: 10
Con: 11+1
Dex: 14+1
Int: 12
Wis: 14
Cha: 9
Languages: Common, Dwarvish, Elvish, Primordial
Personality: Driven by a wonderlust that led him away from home.
Ideal: Glory - He must earn glory in battle, for hisself and his family.
Bond: His family is the most important thing in his life, even if they are far from him.
Flaw: He remembers every insult he has reseived and nurses a silent resentment towards anyone who's ever wronged him.
History: Born of the most unlikely a pair as anyone could imagine. It is known elf and dwarf kind don't exactly see eye to eye despite stature wise. It also didn't help when most elves are noble by some birthright and look down on "common folk". So when Jethro's parents first met they actually hated each other. It happened they both belonged to a prestigous guild known for hunting monsters and beasts of all shapes and sizes. It was on one of these quests they found love, and it was on one of these quests they died in each other's arms. Being raised as an orphan in a monster hunting guild had it's ups and downs. Being told you we're probably the only one of your kind over and over makes one bear grudges towards those with poor to no tolerence for mixed races. Being a loner makes one curious. Jethro's curiousity knows no bounds. After years of begging he was finally told what had killed his parents, an elder chimara. A year or two after he was born the couple had announced their retirement and after one last hunt they would head for home. However, they never came back along side half of the eight man party sent to assist. Now that he has come of age he plans for his own adventure.
