H0RUS

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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The last threads of HORUS’ anger leave him as he chucks his handaxe in the direction of the thugs, channeling the last of the raging energy into the throw. He is not exactly aiming to hit them, just hoping to scare them off a bit more… but the axe doesn’t go far as he’s taken aback by the extremely flustered elf before him. The father, HORUS assumes, is waiting for answers from his boy and only the sound of metal can be heard clanging to the cobblestone pavement of the town square.

HORUS snaps to attention, a weak smile gracing his features as he takes a step to the side to examine the man. He’s an elf, which leaves him a bit wary, but he seems relatively harmless as far as appearances go. Although, from studying his words and posture, HORUS can tell that this anger in him is foreign. So much unlike himself, the elf is tense and worried, shaken up from the prospect of the fight.

Maybe he should apologize? But... would that be speaking out of turn? Would the man think of that as rude? HORUS’ own posture begins to fail him, hands crossed behind his back as he prepares for the onslaught of discipline. It’s been a long while since he’s had a stern talking to, and he releases a heavy sigh remembering Javan’s strict rules and constant disappointment. Look what you’ve gotten yourself into now, Javan would say. Bothering these nice people, your temper getting the best of you again - how many times do I have to tell you this, boy? HORUS stares at his feet, brushing a stray braid over his ear and out of his face.

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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HORUS rolls his eyes. He wants to fight, he told them to hit him. He clearly doesn’t have any magic to deflect their blows and he’s been finishing them off effectively enough to be seen as a threat. But it seems like their grudges lay deeper than HORUS can even begin to comprehend.

He does know, however, that these guys picked the wrong bunch of pointy eared bastards to fight.

He snarls at the man taking a run for it, knowing that chasing after him wouldn’t do either of them much good anyway.

Currently standing over the man called Achillis, HORUS strides over him again in an uncaring manner to stand over their other fallen comrade, Hercules. Recklessly face to face with Nyke, HORUS shakes his braids over one shoulder and raises his hand axe again to hit him with the butt of it.

“Leave them alone, asshole!” HORUS yells to punctuate the statement of his strike, the anger set deep within him building up furth as he sees Nyke is somewhat hurt, but mostly unaffected. Perhaps he looks more frightened than earlier, but that is not enough to satisfy HORUS.

His soul is vibrating with an energy that feels natural to him, almost giving him a sense of safety.

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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How satisfying it is when the one you are fighting falls. He takes a step over Achillis now that he’s down, giving HORUS the perfect vantage to attack Hercules. He flips the handaxe in the air, watching it turn in the hair once, twice, three times as it lands in his hand once more. He strikes Hercules.

Again, the same light blue energy radiates from HORUS. It dances over his skin, the apparition sliding down his arm and injecting itself into Hercules as he is hit. He straightens his posture, smirking at the man as he reels back.

“You’re so focused on my new friends here, you’ve overlooked your biggest threat.” The same anger that grasped HORUS at the start of this fight continues to loom over him. His eyes glint with a hint of mischief.

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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HORUS was having a pretty wonderful day until he ran into Zevemar and Iolanthe. His argument with elf already fueled his temper, but now with these even more unwelcome guests throwing around unwarranted comments about his heritage, he was fueled by rage. The half-Orc throwing the first punch helped validate HORUS’ next decision as he pushes past Iolanthe, approaching the one called Achillis. Without thinking of the consequences, HORUS takes a handaxe from his side and flips it over to the blunt end to whack him across the face.

A ghostly image dances over his shoulders, a light blue aura rippling down his arms to punctuate the attack. It’s likely just a trick on the eyes as the light creates an effect that is similar to multiple, transparent arms guiding HORUS through this encounter. The spectral force slams into Achillis, seeping through the wounds and throwing off his balance even further.

HORUS smirks at the blood dripping from a broken nose, eyes wild with an angry satisfaction.

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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HORUS absolutely beams, grinning up at Zevemar as he stammers and blushes. A thrill, a feeling of absolute satisfaction courses through him... even though it was not his best attempts at flirting. He wants to continue this conversation, ask what is so unusual about his name, and make that icy mask melt away.

Alas, HORUS is reminded that they are not alone.

His attention snaps to the elf, Iolanthe, and his smile falters at her question. HORUS crosses his arms over his chest - guarded and small, unlike his usual dramatic demeanor - and he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha ha.” He digs a sandal clad foot into the dirt and leans toward her, sarcastic in his words and closed off in his movement. “Enough pleasantries, then. You two were eyeing me from across the square. Was there something you needed?”

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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“My, my~ Students of the Spire, you say?” HORUS swoons, fanning himself with a delicate hand. The bracelets around his wrists clink together and slide up the length. He bats his lashes and steps forward, closing the space between them. Zevemar’s words sounded like a challenge, and HORUS is not one to step down. “How official. Very fancy.”

As he gets closer, he puts his arms up, showing that he is no threat. A constant smile remaining across his lips. “People call me HORUS. Pleasure to meet you, Zevemar. You’re- you’re quite handsome.” He stumbles over his words a bit, so he throws in a wink at the end of that statement, hoping this conversation can become more casual and toward his favor.

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

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HORUS is accustomed to people staring at him. In fact, he actively makes a show of himself so people stare at him. He peers over at the peculiar pair glancing his way, seemingly debating something.

Picking himself off the floor, the children whine and complain about his leaving again so soon. He pats one of them atop the head, ruffling up their hair. “Hush now, I won’t be long. Go play.” He waves them off to where they run off with their friends. HORUS looks over the striking Elven woman, instantly wary at a first once over. She does not seem to mean him any harm, so that is good, but she is looking at him rather curiously; she looks like someone who would be willing to strike up a conversation, but is reserved in her approach. Perhaps she is reliant on her companion...

In all his traveling over Illio, HORUS can not say that he has met many half-Orcs. The man seems intense, eyeing him with a bit more than his counterpart’s curiosity. Neither look to be judging him, however, so that is a relief. They seem cool, collected, and overall unthreatening.

Well, might as well bite first. HORUS waves at the them both - a dramatic gesture that extends way farther over his head than necessary - and takes a few steps toward them, hoping they will meet him halfway.

As the half-Elf steps forward, one could easily see that HORUS is a man with a sturdy build and sudden, aggressive movements. He wears a friendly, proud smile. Surprisingly, he moves with relative grace for his size. His dark hair lays just past his shoulders; looking as if a group of young girls got their hands on him, braided and twisted his hair in all different directions, and stuck in colorful bows, ribbons, and beads everywhere they could. It’s as if this treatment happened a week ago and he hasn’t made any effort to fix it or undo any of them. It is quite possible that the man makes the effort to brush around them purposefully. His right eye is a sparkling golden color, while the left is a soft blue that contrasts against his dark skin.

Accented by a ratty blue scarf that drapes lazily around his neck, he wears a white tunic with heavy sleeves cut to reveal his shoulder and bunched at the elbows. His sandals are old and worn out, but he walks toward his spectators with confidence.

“You know, you can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.” HORUS gestures to himself before settling his hands over his hips.

D&D 5e - Of Seas and Snakes

LVL. 3 Hᴀʟғ-Eʟғ Bᴀʀʙᴀʀɪᴀɴ
Eɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴇʀ
Nᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ Gᴏᴏᴅ

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Stats

ᴍᴀx ʜᴘ:
38

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ᴘʀᴏғɪᴄɪᴇɴᴄɪᴇs
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴs
Simple and martial weapons, light and medium armor, shields.
ᴛᴏᴏʟs:
Disguise kit, piano.
ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇs:
Common and Draconic

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ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴀɪᴛs
Fᴇʏ Aɴᴄᴇsᴛʀʏ: You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can’t put you to sleep.
Dᴀʀᴋᴠɪsɪᴏɴ: You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.

Bʏ Pᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ Dᴇᴍᴀɴᴅ: You can always find a place to perform, usually in an inn or tavern but possibly with a circus, at a theater, or even in a noble’s court. At such a place, you receive free lodging and food of a modest or comfortable standard (depending on the quality of the establishment), as long as you perform each night. In addition, your performance makes you something of a local figure. When strangers recognize you in a town where you have performed, they typically take a liking to you.

Rᴀɢᴇ: In battle, you fight with primal ferocity. On your turn, you can enter a rage as a bonus action. While raging, you gain the following benefits if you aren’t wearing heavy armor:

• You have advantage on Strength checks and Strength saving throws.
• When you make a melee weapon attack using Strength, you gain a bonus to the damage roll that increases as you gain levels as a barbarian, as shown in the Rage Damage column of the Barbarian table. At level 3: 3 total rages, +2 rage damage.
• You have resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage.

Your rage lasts for 1 minute. It ends early if you are knocked unconscious or if your turn ends and you haven’t attacked a hostile creature since your last turn or taken damage since then. You can also end your rage on your turn as a bonus action.

Rᴇᴄᴋʟᴇss Aᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ: Starting at 2nd level, you can throw aside all concern for defense to attack with fierce desperation. When you make your first attack on your turn, you can decide to attack recklessly. Doing so gives you advantage on melee weapon attack rolls using Strength during this turn, but attack rolls against you have advantage until your next turn.

Dᴀɴɢᴇʀ Sᴇɴsᴇ: At 2nd level, you gain an uncanny sense of when things nearby aren’t as they should be, giving you an edge when you dodge away from danger. You have advantage on Dexterity saving throws against effects that you can see, such as traps and spells. To gain this benefit, you can’t be blinded, deafened, or incapacitated.

Pʀɪᴍᴀʟ Pᴀᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Aɴᴄᴇsᴛʀᴀʟ Gᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ
Aɴᴄᴇsᴛʀᴀʟ Pʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴏʀs: Starting when you choose this path at 3rd level, spectral warriors appear when you enter your rage. While you’re raging, the first creature you hit with an attack on your turn becomes the target of the warriors, which hinder its attacks. Until the start of your next turn, that target has disadvantage on any attack roll that isn’t against you, and when the target hits a creature other than you with an attack, that creature has resistance to the damage dealt by the attack. The effect on the target ends early if your rage ends.

Equipment

ᴇǫᴜɪᴘᴍᴇɴᴛ
•Explorer's pack
•A costume for special performances
•Family trinkets (small, clumsily woven bracelets from his sisters)
•Tambourine
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴs
•Greataxe
•Handaxe (2)
•Javelin (4)

Backstory

Born of a proud immigrant family, HORUS’ ancestors hail from the continent Erontor of the desert country of Al-Turoq. Allow the scene to be set for you: three weary travelers cross the sea to seek refuge in the oasis of a new country with land that is fresh and sweet. The travelers are a middle aged couple and their strong, independent daughter. Her name is Samar. Life in this land is rich with new opportunities of wealth, freedom, and love. Samar is determined to make a good life, falling immediately for an Elven man. She courts, she makes love, she is heartbroken. Left alone in a new country with no husband and a baby on the way. He will know nothing about that half of his heritage, nothing about the man who is truly his father, and nothing about the ancestors that came before him.

HORUS takes in the details of every story. Every twisting moment, every emotion, and every lesson. He is not one to easily forget a tale once it is told to him. To tell a narrative is the best way to communicate, it is how humans have communicated and lived on for as long as they have. It is how HORUS knows the stories of Al-Turoq. It is how HORUS can feel a connection and a home to a land he has never been. It is how HORUS can find peace.

Swept into the bustle of a crowd, HORUS tells stories in town squares and cities to all who will listen. The man is romantic and elegant, but one must hope to stay on the good side of his ragged temper.

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