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Fading Memory@Sigil No worries!! righto heres my little character :D Any questions or needed changes feel free to give me a shout!
Just a note, I dont have Astral Self on dnd beyond so had to lob in way of the fist as a place holder, aand I think my math on the scores is correct?? But again if not I'll happily change it.
Another front line fighter and possibly tank plus a bit of lightning to shock the enemies with!
Edited: 23/07/2022 hopefully corrected the numbers
Edited: Added Mythweavers CS
Edited: 01/08/2022 updated History slightly
Just a note, I dont have Astral Self on dnd beyond so had to lob in way of the fist as a place holder, aand I think my math on the scores is correct?? But again if not I'll happily change it.
Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah
Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), 300
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
STR: 11(+0) DEX: 17 (+3) CON: 15 (+2) INT: 11 (+0) WIS: 15 (+2) CHA: 12 (+1)
HP MAX: 24 Armor Class: 15 Movement: 40 ft Spell DC: N/A
Alignment: LG Defenses: Lightning
A somewhat battered looking dark blue dragon-born appears to be in his mid twenties, missing his right arm almost to the shoulder, and his right horn as well. Despite, or in spite of it, he holds himself tall. Calm blue eyes flick about himself almost constantly, betraying his otherwise slow movements and neutral smile.
Preferring to wear loose fitting wrap around of bright reds, oranges, and otherwise bright colours but will if needed change into more suitable clothing. However, he will always wear a large piece of cloth around his neck, at first glance it's just a scarf but when unfurled it's clearly a piece of a torn sail.
As expected, he carries what little he owns upon his back.
Preferring to wear loose fitting wrap around of bright reds, oranges, and otherwise bright colours but will if needed change into more suitable clothing. However, he will always wear a large piece of cloth around his neck, at first glance it's just a scarf but when unfurled it's clearly a piece of a torn sail.
As expected, he carries what little he owns upon his back.
Blackberry is a very jovial and loud person who barely pays much thought to the words coming out of his mouth sometimes, but rarely does he mean anything insulting by his words and will quickly apologise if he does cross anyone. Despite his measured and slow movements, there is an anxious energy to him; he’s always wanting to be doing something, or looking at something, or even just moving about on the spot. Even his eyes seem incapable of staying still for long.
A terrible habit he’s formed since leaving his home is spending or giving away money nearly as quickly as he gets it, wanting to try out new things, foods, and drinks, or otherwise help out someone less fortunate than himself.
Sometimes though he goes very quiet and will stare off into the distance like he’s listening to something no one else can hear. It's mostly the sound of waves that sets this off.
Unfortunately as well he can be very blunt when it comes to someone else's loss of a loved one, or even a stranger dying as well. In his own words; “They're Dead, that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
A terrible habit he’s formed since leaving his home is spending or giving away money nearly as quickly as he gets it, wanting to try out new things, foods, and drinks, or otherwise help out someone less fortunate than himself.
Sometimes though he goes very quiet and will stare off into the distance like he’s listening to something no one else can hear. It's mostly the sound of waves that sets this off.
Unfortunately as well he can be very blunt when it comes to someone else's loss of a loved one, or even a stranger dying as well. In his own words; “They're Dead, that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
His early years were pretty standard to begin with; born to the Roving Claw Caravan, his days were spent travelling near all year round with his family, and any number of others who would come and go on the routes with the seasons. As far as Baronfjørd can remember, his early years were of peace and simple joys. That is until one day, they took a different route one bitter and frigid winter, he doesn't know why they changed route as he was too young to remember anything in great detail apart from the fear in the voices of grownups and the driving the horses very quickly through several towns.
Their destination was a little port town, and it was the first time Baronfjørd ever saw a ship. But something was very wrong that day; the grownups were rushing about packing everything they could carry in their bags, people were crying either quietly or loudly, and strange people led the horses away. Baronfjørd remembers crying in his Mothers arms as she took him up and onto the ship, and watching the land behind them grow smaller in the distance until it vanished from sight with the sun shining brightly above them.
But something went terribly wrong. Something attacked the boat. Something big tore its hull apart. Something gazed into Baronfjørdas debris pulled him down into the depths. Something lodged in his mind.
The next thing Baronfjørd remembers is waking up in a not uncomfortable bed, in a not uncomfortable room, where a human man was taking care of him. The man, he later came to know as Brother Rorvil (The Infirmarer) explained that he had been found among the remains of driftwood on the beach below the Monastery, with a death grip on a bit of sail, and had been in their care for several days. Sadly, no other survivors turned up. After the storm Blackberry had been the only one to wash up, but while he had survived his right arm unfortunately had taken most of the damage and despite their efforts it couldn’t be saved.
“It was very ‘touch and go’ for a while there lad; we thought we nearly lost you at times.” - Brother Rorvil
The child didn’t speak, he didn’t say a single word. And this would go on for a long time. Unable to get any information out of him, even his name remained a mystery to them, there wasn’t anything for the monks of Hiltoszin Monastray could do. In her Great Generosity the Abotess Conall Mirastina decided that the child may as well stay with them as he was already acting as Brother Rorvils shadow; never straying far from the man throughout the day and sometimes trying to help out, even if he would often get in the way of things.
And so the simple days went on to simple weeks and then months, and the Child settled into Monastery life with the other children. Of course there were some problems; any sighting of ships out on the sea would send the poor Child into hysterics and Rorvil noticed that on exceptionally quiet days and the sound of the ocean could carry in through open windows would leave the poor Child still as a statue, staring blindly ahead. Brother Rorvil did his best to care for the child and found the child was apparently happiest with something to do.
One day, the Child was asked to help the cooks prepare for a luxurious feast they were to hold for a holiday with the neighbouring village Calabelle. With a few other children, he helped carry ingredients from the store rooms or packed away jars, bottles, and rolls into bags to keep them fresh. Of course, they were all happily rewarded for their hard work at the end of the day being allowed to help themselves to several treats. When Brother Rorvil arrived and asked what treats the children had.
With flakes of pastry down his robe, the Child cried out, “Blackberry!”, and wiped across his mouth making the smear of fruit jam that much worse.
The years passed on, and the nickname Blackberry stuck just like the sticky jam. Much of his life before the Monastery is now forgotten as he happily continued his days with religious study and prayer, and soon enough onto battle training as well. While his lacking limb did pose a bit of a boundary, no one could say Blackberries fighting abilities were anything less than superb, and he proved himself more than capable on a few occasions when the village Calabelle, called upon the Monastery for aid.
Finally. Terribly. A horrible storm battered the coast. Curling in on himself, Blackberry stared blindly ahead of himself, both in his bed and somewhere so very far away. He could hear something, something his ears swore they couldn't hear but his mind was certain it did; a horrid voice that called but the unholy din of the wind against rafters drowned out whatever it was saying. Someone crashed through the door, casting bright light onto him, shouting a boat had been spotted going under out at sea.
The beach was wreathing with activity when Blackberry had arrived, people with lanterns squirting out to sea through the torrential downpour. A flash of lighting illuminated a shape in the distance, a ship's mast snapping under the sharp wist of a writhing mass. Someone shouted towards it as the lightning fade and luckily a visiting adventure had enough magic might to pull the ship, magical light pulling the boat out from the darkness, and what remained of it onto the beach.Bodies were pulled out of it and hurried up to the Monastery but despite best efforts they didn’t survive, either passing that night or in the following days.
All perished, but one; Blackberry was there when the young dwarf awoke from her painful slumber, he was there as she, barely older than he had been, asked where she was and where her family had gone. He was there when she went very quiet, and he was there when she started to cry.
History likes to repeat itself. The child followed Blackberry as he went about his duties, and Melody became like his own shadow. He saw first hand how, despite how she appeared fine, the experience had left its wounds on her. Melody shared his own hatred of water, and she too descended into hysterics as he had done at the sight of a sailing boat on the horizon. During storms he would have to either pull himself out his own paralyzing panic to comfort her, or otherwise arrange one of his Brothers to do so.
He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.He hated it so much the burning rage set his very soul alight with fury.
Something had to be done, someone had to destroy that creature that had caused so much agony, not just to himself but to Melody, and Gods knew how many countless others. So with the Abottess’ blessing, and some generously donated supplies, he set off to do just that.
To begin with he had trawled the Monastery itself for any information of the beast but all he found were the few stories or diary entries from years so long, long ago. The same happened when he sought out the neighboring villages, and the sailors and fisherman at ports all gave a similar answer.
"Sorry lad." The man shrugged as he gutted the fish in his hands. "The Beast don't show up much. Last time before that girl showed up was when you did. An'before then was during my grannies time."
A few months, and a few small adventures keeping local monsters in check, and Blackberry is still no closer to his goal than when he first started.There was some hope though, where there was talk of a Beast attacking boats further along the shore and following those rumors led him through other Ports and seaside towns with their own tales of the wretched Beast, appearing suddenly and seemingly at random across the years to terrorized sailors on stormy nights, only to disappear without a trace. But Blackberry wasn't just after information about the BEast,; he was also after people who could help defeat through either means or funds, and while several names cropped up along his travels there was one in particular that had caught his attention...
Sheriff Gregory Arbalest, a man of some renown for his own adventures and service to his country during a War sometime in the past, and for his efforts he had been rewarded his retirement in Avonshire. The man had apparently spent some time seafaring and fighting pirates and monsters of his own! (or at least, that's what the people at the bar had said...)
Without another lead to go on, Blackberry set back out onto the road heading towards Avonshire looking for Sheriff Gregory Arbalest in the hopes for aid in his quest.
Their destination was a little port town, and it was the first time Baronfjørd ever saw a ship. But something was very wrong that day; the grownups were rushing about packing everything they could carry in their bags, people were crying either quietly or loudly, and strange people led the horses away. Baronfjørd remembers crying in his Mothers arms as she took him up and onto the ship, and watching the land behind them grow smaller in the distance until it vanished from sight with the sun shining brightly above them.
But something went terribly wrong. Something attacked the boat. Something big tore its hull apart. Something gazed into Baronfjørdas debris pulled him down into the depths. Something lodged in his mind.
The next thing Baronfjørd remembers is waking up in a not uncomfortable bed, in a not uncomfortable room, where a human man was taking care of him. The man, he later came to know as Brother Rorvil (The Infirmarer) explained that he had been found among the remains of driftwood on the beach below the Monastery, with a death grip on a bit of sail, and had been in their care for several days. Sadly, no other survivors turned up. After the storm Blackberry had been the only one to wash up, but while he had survived his right arm unfortunately had taken most of the damage and despite their efforts it couldn’t be saved.
“It was very ‘touch and go’ for a while there lad; we thought we nearly lost you at times.” - Brother Rorvil
The child didn’t speak, he didn’t say a single word. And this would go on for a long time. Unable to get any information out of him, even his name remained a mystery to them, there wasn’t anything for the monks of Hiltoszin Monastray could do. In her Great Generosity the Abotess Conall Mirastina decided that the child may as well stay with them as he was already acting as Brother Rorvils shadow; never straying far from the man throughout the day and sometimes trying to help out, even if he would often get in the way of things.
And so the simple days went on to simple weeks and then months, and the Child settled into Monastery life with the other children. Of course there were some problems; any sighting of ships out on the sea would send the poor Child into hysterics and Rorvil noticed that on exceptionally quiet days and the sound of the ocean could carry in through open windows would leave the poor Child still as a statue, staring blindly ahead. Brother Rorvil did his best to care for the child and found the child was apparently happiest with something to do.
One day, the Child was asked to help the cooks prepare for a luxurious feast they were to hold for a holiday with the neighbouring village Calabelle. With a few other children, he helped carry ingredients from the store rooms or packed away jars, bottles, and rolls into bags to keep them fresh. Of course, they were all happily rewarded for their hard work at the end of the day being allowed to help themselves to several treats. When Brother Rorvil arrived and asked what treats the children had.
With flakes of pastry down his robe, the Child cried out, “Blackberry!”, and wiped across his mouth making the smear of fruit jam that much worse.
The years passed on, and the nickname Blackberry stuck just like the sticky jam. Much of his life before the Monastery is now forgotten as he happily continued his days with religious study and prayer, and soon enough onto battle training as well. While his lacking limb did pose a bit of a boundary, no one could say Blackberries fighting abilities were anything less than superb, and he proved himself more than capable on a few occasions when the village Calabelle, called upon the Monastery for aid.
Finally. Terribly. A horrible storm battered the coast. Curling in on himself, Blackberry stared blindly ahead of himself, both in his bed and somewhere so very far away. He could hear something, something his ears swore they couldn't hear but his mind was certain it did; a horrid voice that called but the unholy din of the wind against rafters drowned out whatever it was saying. Someone crashed through the door, casting bright light onto him, shouting a boat had been spotted going under out at sea.
The beach was wreathing with activity when Blackberry had arrived, people with lanterns squirting out to sea through the torrential downpour. A flash of lighting illuminated a shape in the distance, a ship's mast snapping under the sharp wist of a writhing mass. Someone shouted towards it as the lightning fade and luckily a visiting adventure had enough magic might to pull the ship, magical light pulling the boat out from the darkness, and what remained of it onto the beach.Bodies were pulled out of it and hurried up to the Monastery but despite best efforts they didn’t survive, either passing that night or in the following days.
All perished, but one; Blackberry was there when the young dwarf awoke from her painful slumber, he was there as she, barely older than he had been, asked where she was and where her family had gone. He was there when she went very quiet, and he was there when she started to cry.
History likes to repeat itself. The child followed Blackberry as he went about his duties, and Melody became like his own shadow. He saw first hand how, despite how she appeared fine, the experience had left its wounds on her. Melody shared his own hatred of water, and she too descended into hysterics as he had done at the sight of a sailing boat on the horizon. During storms he would have to either pull himself out his own paralyzing panic to comfort her, or otherwise arrange one of his Brothers to do so.
He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.He hated it so much the burning rage set his very soul alight with fury.
Something had to be done, someone had to destroy that creature that had caused so much agony, not just to himself but to Melody, and Gods knew how many countless others. So with the Abottess’ blessing, and some generously donated supplies, he set off to do just that.
To begin with he had trawled the Monastery itself for any information of the beast but all he found were the few stories or diary entries from years so long, long ago. The same happened when he sought out the neighboring villages, and the sailors and fisherman at ports all gave a similar answer.
"Sorry lad." The man shrugged as he gutted the fish in his hands. "The Beast don't show up much. Last time before that girl showed up was when you did. An'before then was during my grannies time."
A few months, and a few small adventures keeping local monsters in check, and Blackberry is still no closer to his goal than when he first started.There was some hope though, where there was talk of a Beast attacking boats further along the shore and following those rumors led him through other Ports and seaside towns with their own tales of the wretched Beast, appearing suddenly and seemingly at random across the years to terrorized sailors on stormy nights, only to disappear without a trace. But Blackberry wasn't just after information about the BEast,; he was also after people who could help defeat through either means or funds, and while several names cropped up along his travels there was one in particular that had caught his attention...
Sheriff Gregory Arbalest, a man of some renown for his own adventures and service to his country during a War sometime in the past, and for his efforts he had been rewarded his retirement in Avonshire. The man had apparently spent some time seafaring and fighting pirates and monsters of his own! (or at least, that's what the people at the bar had said...)
Without another lead to go on, Blackberry set back out onto the road heading towards Avonshire looking for Sheriff Gregory Arbalest in the hopes for aid in his quest.
None. As cute as animals are, they're a pain to take care of.
Likes:
Jams of any and all kinds.
Dislikes:
Big bodies of water like lakes, wide rivers, and the ocean in general.
Other:
The Astral Arms he summons burn like fire without heat.
He settles into a boxer's stance, using his left arm to defend against incoming attacks, whilst using his Astral arms to land his own.
Jams of any and all kinds.
Dislikes:
Big bodies of water like lakes, wide rivers, and the ocean in general.
Other:
The Astral Arms he summons burn like fire without heat.
He settles into a boxer's stance, using his left arm to defend against incoming attacks, whilst using his Astral arms to land his own.
Another front line fighter and possibly tank plus a bit of lightning to shock the enemies with!
Edited: 23/07/2022 hopefully corrected the numbers
Edited: Added Mythweavers CS
Edited: 01/08/2022 updated History slightly