[color=00a651][u][b]Dag’Tyr[/b][/u] [b]Level:[/b] 3 [b]Class:[/b] Cleric (Life Domain) [b]Race:[/b] Kin of Du’Eld [b]Size:[/b] Medium [b]AC:[/b] 18 = 16+2 (chainmail & shield) [b]HP:[/b] 29 [b]Speed:[/b] 30ft [b]Str:[/b] 14 (+2) [b]Dex:[/b] 12 (+1) [b]Con:[/b] 18 (+4) [b]Wis:[/b] 17 (+3) [b]Int:[/b] 10 (0) [b]Cha:[/b] 12 (+1) [b]Proficiency Bonus:[/b] +2 [b]Proficient Saving Throws:[/b] Wisdom, Charisma [b]Proficient Skills:[/b] Insight, Medicine [b]Proficient Weapons:[/b] Simple Weapons [b]Proficient Armor:[/b] Heavy Armor [b]Languages:[/b] Common, (Plus a dialect the Kin Delves use for Spellcasting and the reciting of their old songs and tales) You wanna hear what that sounds like: [url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lOJ21LmDlg[/url] [b]Weapons/Armour: [/b] [hider=My Hider] A Mace named Gul’Da: 5 gp, 4 lb. 1d6 bludgeoning (Named after one of the fabled battlemaidens Gul’Da is the one that wields the mighty forgefires in her fury her name meaning the Golden One in the Alde Tonge.) Chainmail Heavy armor 75 gp, 55 lb. AC 16 Shield Armor (shield) 10 gp, 6 lb. AC +2 (A shield is made from wood or metal and is carried in one hand. Wielding a shield increases your Armor Class by 2. You can benefit from only one shield at a time.) The shield bears the mark of his family, one of the most prized pieces his father forged before they were forced to uproot and undertake the dangerous journey. To Dag’Tyr that shield represents his father, in spirit, still watching over him, still guarding him and guiding him on his journey. Pity to those that mock it. Whilst normally against his beliefs of harming others, those that mock his father’s make discover its density and durability up close, usually by busted nose and the wrath of a grieving son. [/hider] [b]Spells:[/b] [hider=My Hider] Clericspells: Life Domain: 1st Bless, Cure Wounds 3rd Lesser Restoration, Spiritual Weapon [b]Cantrips: [/b] Sacred Flame, Word of Radiance, Toll of the Dead [b]Prepared:[/b] 1st: Shield of Faith, Detect Poison & Disease & Bane 2nd: Aid, Prayer of Healing & Protection from Poison [/hider] [b]Domain Profiencies:[/b] [hider=My Hider] [b]Bonus:[/b] When you choose this domain at 1st level, you gain proficiency with heavy armor. [/hider] [b]Disciple of Life[/b] [hider=My Hider] Also starting at 1st level, your healing spells are more effective. Whenever you use a spell of 1st level or higher to restore hit points to a creature, the creature regains additional hit points equal to 2 + the spell's level. [/hider] [b] Channel Divinity[/b] [hider=My Hider] At 2nd level, you gain the ability to channel divine energy directly from your deity, using that energy to fuel magical effects. You start with two such effects: Turn Undead and an effect determined by your domain. Some domains grant you additional effects as you advance in levels, as noted in the domain description. When you use your Channel Divinity, you choose which effect to create. You must then finish a short or long rest to use your Channel Divinity again. Some Channel Divinity effects require saving throws. When you use such an effect from this class, the DC equals your cleric spell save DC. Channel Divinity: Turn Undead As an action, you present your holy symbol and speak a prayer censuring the undead. Each undead that can see or hear you within 30 feet of you must make a Wisdom saving throw. If the creature fails its saving throw, it is turned for 1 minute or until it takes any damage. A turned creature must spend its turns trying to move as far away from you as it can, and it can't willingly move to a space within 30 feet of you. It also can't take reactions. For its action, it can use only the Dash action or try to escape from an effect that prevents it from moving. If there's nowhere to move, the creature can use the Dodge action. Channel Divinity: Harness Divine Power 2nd-level cleric optional feature You can expend a use of your Channel Divinity to fuel your spells. As a bonus action, you touch your holy symbol, utter a prayer, and regain one expended spell slot, the level of which can be no higher than half your proficiency bonus (rounded up). The number of times you can use this feature is based on the level you've reached in this class: 2nd level, once; 6th level, twice; and 18th level, thrice. You regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. [b]Divine Domain feature[/b] At 2nd level, you gain a feature from your Divine Domain. [b]Channel Divinity: Preserve Life[/b] Starting at 2nd level, you can use your Channel Divinity to heal the badly injured. As an action, you present your holy symbol and evoke healing energy that can restore a number of hit points equal to five times your cleric level. Choose any creatures within 30 feet of you, and divide those hit points among them. This feature can restore a creature to no more than half of its hit point maximum. You can't use this feature on an undead or a construct. [/hider] [b]Race Profiencies:[/b] [hider=My Hider] The Legacy of Du'Eld - Proficiency with Blacksmithing Tools. 'The Form of Du’Eld' - Advantage on saving throws against any magics that would alter your shape. Cannot voluntarily be polymorphed or altered in any way, such as from an Alter Self spell. ‘The Bane of Du’Eld’ - You are vulnerable to Poison Damage and have disadvantage on saving throws against Poison. 'The Shield of Du’Eld' - Once per long rest as a Reaction, gain damage reduction equal to your proficiency modifier for 1 minute against all damage types. [/hider] [b]Feat Not Acquired (yet)[/b] [hider=My Hider] - 'The Might of Du’Eld': This Character has become a paragon of Du’Eld’s Legacy; the world shakes at their steps and their foes struggle to withstand their might. Prerequisite - Complete the Journey of Du’Eld. SPECIAL: Granted immediately upon completion as a special feat. Once per long rest, For one minute as a bonus action, Enlarge yourself to one size category larger than you currently are. While enlarged in this way, deal additional damage on your melee attacks equal to your constitution modifier. [/hider] [b]Background Hermit:[/b] (Though I would prefer the term Wanderer in this case, but couldn’t find a proper background in the PHB) [hider=My Hider] [b]Skill Proficiencies:[/b] Investigation, Religion [b]Tool Proficiencies:[/b] Herbalism kit [b]Languages:[/b] Common [b]Feature:[/b] Discovery The quiet seclusion of your extended hermitage gave you access to a unique and powerful discovery. The exact nature of this revelation depends on the nature of your seclusion. It might be a great truth about the cosmos, the deities, the powerful beings of the outer planes, or the forces of nature. It could be a site that no one else has ever seen. You might have uncovered a fact that has long been forgotten, or unearthed some relic of the past that could rewrite history. It might be information that would be damaging to the people who or consigned you to exile, and hence the reason for your return to society. My Discovery: During self-imposed exile and after the words of Veratul he discovered the plague in its state has taken hold of his people despite his careful seclusion. Understanding that he needs more knowledge to find a cure and stop this plague he decides to leave his exile and travels on from village to village, listening for gossip, trying to speak to the learned men there for their information and helping those in need of a healing hand for bread and board. He quickly gains the nicknames ‘the wandering healer’ or ‘Bluefinger’ regardless it eases his travels somewhat. [/hider] [b]Free Feat:[/b] Healer [hider=My Hider] You are an able physician, allowing you to mend wounds quickly and get your allies back in the fight. You gain the following benefits: • When you use a healer's kit to stabilize a dying creature, that creature also regains 1 hit point. • As an action, you can spend one use of a healer's kit to tend to a creature and restore 1d6 + 4 hit points to it, plus additional hit points equal to the creature's maximum number of Hit Dice. The creature can't regain hit points from this feat again until it finishes a short or long rest. [/hider] [b]Equipment: [/b] [hider=My Hider] Dag’Tyr carries with him; - A scroll case stuffed full of notes from his studies & prayers - A winter blanket - A set of common clothes - A Herbalism kit - A Healer’s kit - A bar of soap - A vial of perfume (but instead of perfume they are smelling salts) - A Waterskin - Rations (1 week) & A pouch of money: 5 gp [/hider] [b]Dag’Tyr’s Backstory: [/b] [hider=My Hider] Life within the Shield Mountains could be seen as monotonous by some, but to the Kin Delves it is their life. Traditions, Ceremonies and Rituals are quite common, from simple toasting traditions to the ceremonial casting of the first steel, a rite of adulthood to those that are blessed by the Forge. Amongst the warm smoldering fires and the haunting enchanting ballads of old Dag’Tyr was born. He was a son to a Magyck caster’s apprentice; one of the greatest honours when it came to Smithing. Magyckers were Elders, Old Master Smiths who were the one’s tasked with setting the magical enchantments upon the metal or runes of protection upon the tools and Forge that forged them. It was they who infusing them with a magic that was as old as the Kin Delves themselves; part ritual and part experience. Each Magyck caster or Magycker, brought their own flavour to the steel. They have passed on their knowledge and wisdom regarding the sacred fires and knowledge on the forges themselves when they felt it was time for them to step down. As it usually would take years before A Magycker took an apprentice it would take years more before the apprentice would be deemed worthy to be tested with a proving. In the barrow halls of Waldwyk which was Dag’Tyr’s old home, Mor’Skud was the Master Magycker. He was one of great age and renown amongst the Kin. And at the time he was teaching three pupils simultaneously, extremely unusual. As a Magycker would usually handpick only one apprentice. But things had gone different with old Mor’Skud. Dag’Tyr had never really bothered to ask his father about it as it did not occur to him at the time. But it was known that one of them had been send there from another city. This apprentice had come to receive additional teachings ultimately to hopefully be deemed worthy. Now the unusualness started around Dag’Tyr’s tenth year. The year of the Proving. It was a celebration in which the new pupils (not just the Magyck apprentices but many young smiths aswell) would demonstrate their works to the old masters and afterwards it would be celebrated with a grand feast and many festivities. This was also the case for the Dag’Tyr’s father and the other two pupils. This would determine who old Mor’Skud would pick as his heir and inheritor of the title: Magycker. They all would work 3 full days and nights, each receiving as much time as the other, each capable for it to be done in secret. Unseen from curious eyes. Whilst Dag’Tyr remembers the great feast and the ritualistic chanting when the pupils set to work, the glowing red amber embers of the forge and the happy laughter of a relatively easy life his young eyes observing an unusual event. He remembered his father’s nervousness and weak smile as he went into the challenge and the look of utter satisfaction and exhaustion when he came out of it proudly holding his work for the master to be scrutinized. The sheen on it had been something else, the shield’s metal polished to a reflective shine and one could practically hear the metal sing out to them. It was truly marvellous. Dag’Tyr also never forgot the look of fear and devastation when his father wasn’t chosen. One of haunting dejection. The brave smile he cast his way, in an attempt to soothe his worries, but those eyes never lied no matter how brilliant the smile attempted to be. He remembered his father explaining he would remain a pupil for a little while longer, but from what Dag’Tyr understood of his mother’s anger this ‘little while longer’ would be far longer than she or he would like. Still, they had the labour of their father’s work. A sturdy and nice shield, carrying the family’s crest. Dag’Tyr always felt drawn to it, it was almost as if it was calling out to him. Still it hung above their hearth for quite some years more. It wouldn’t be for another ten years that it would be pulled from the wall again. In this particular year the metal had grown weaker, the fires generated less heat and gritty smoke at times escaped the Forge, staining both lung and skin. The old geezers stated the Forge was groaning in pain and when air filled its bellows it was wheezing in misery. Something had to be done. After a year of trying the simple remedies and patch jobs, old Mor’Skud had enough of speculating and suggested to the Guilds that he should take a closer look. He would take his apprentice and pupils with him believing that an extra pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt. They would cleanse it at the start of the new year. The murmer that went through the halls that night was foreboding. They were going to put the forge out and rekindle it. Unheard of! The sheer hubris! But Old Mor’Skud silenced them all. At the final hours of the last they would smother its fires and wait until the heat had faded so they could enter the Forge itself. And so at the earliest of mornings 4 figures entered the now silent great forge. Dag’Tyr followed the men into the great Forge and got a foreboding feeling as he entered behind them, keeping his distance as he was not initiated, but merely there to stand guard and potentially fix a burn or two. It was almost as if he could sense something was observing them, following them. He kept close to the entrance, watching his father and the others move towards the firepit, the chimneys and ‘the lungs’. He could tell they were investigating and from the looks of concern on their faces it was nothing good. What followed was a haze of chaos and confusion. Something was there. Something that wasn’t too eager with them being there. They didn’t need much encouragement to leave, especially not when Mor’Skud’s apprentice was grabbed and flung about like a weak ragdoll. Dag’Tyr only saw flashes receiving a splash of something sticky and wet onto his face and in his eyes when he looked their way. Before he could see again, his father was yelling instructions to him. Telling him to run and close the grate. As the other pupil cried out with an agonizing bone chilling scream somewhere in the back only Mor’Skud and his father remained. His father reached him first, as Mor’Skud had fallen behind, telling them to start closing the grate, so they could close off the Forge and trap whatever was there inside it. However outside the grate was stuck and could only be closed properly when done from the inside. Dag’Tyr never forgot the face of relief and resignation when Mor’Skud pulled the failsafe from the chains within, locking himself in with whatever was there. He ordered Dag’Tyr’s father to flee and head towards Prathe. They needed to be warned. With those words they watched as Mor’ Skud was dragged off by something. Naturally hell broke loose afterwards… It broke the Kin, some wanted to go in and kill whatever was there. Others believed them and prepared themselves for the long arduous journey to Prathe. A couple of influential ones laid the blame at Dag’Tyr and his father, after all it had been convenient only they survived this ordeal. Still as a pupil of Mor’Skud he held some sway over people, thus most of them chose to follow his wisdom and they send word out, telling Prathe of their coming. During the dangerous trip however Dag’Tyr and his father grew ill, fearing more exclusion or hate against their family they split up. Dag’Tyr and his father would remain behind and his mother and sisters would move on, set things up and be admitted into the capital before they potentially be deemed infected too. They promised they would follow as soon as they were recovered only… Dag’Tyr and his father never did. Dag’Tyr watched his father slip away from him as the plague worsened. Hallucinating and Delirious he did his best to properly bury his father, before exhaustion claimed him and the miraculous rescue followed. Veratul took pity on the young man, seeing in him great potential and thus saved his life. Dag’Tyr’s symptoms however never fully disappeared. His eyes still held a strange different colour and the tips of his fingers remained stained, with a blue that was neither close to die or ink. Worried he still might be contagious he decided to not travel after his mother and sisters and instead chose a self-imposed exile, determined to discover what had killed his father and what it was that had made a home in their forge. [/hider] [/color]