Human seeker - I shall make my OWN history........
Voltoor, level 1
Build: Vengeful Seeker
Seeker’s Bond: Bloodbond
Background: Human – Ancestral Holdings, Penitent (Diplomacy class skill)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 14, Dex 15, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 11.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 14, Dex 13, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 11.
AC: 14 Fort: 13 Reflex: 14 Will: 15
HP: 26 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 6
Stealth +7, Nature +8, Heal +8, Perception +8, Acrobatics +7
Arcana +1, Bluff, Diplomacy, Dungeoneering +3, Endurance +2, History +1, Insight +3, Intimidate, Religion +1, Streetwise, Thievery +2, Athletics
Human: Strengthened Bond
Level 1: Weapon Expertise (Crossbow)
Bonus At-Will Power: Elemental Spirits
Seeker at-will 1: Grappling Spirits
Seeker at-will 1: Biting Swarm
Seeker encounter 1: Possessing Spirits
Seeker daily 1: Swarming Bats
Leather Armor, Adventurer’s Kit, Repeating crossbow, Thieves’ Tools
BioI shouldn’t have done it. I can’t help but feel Grampa died cause of me, but I had to know, I had to keep pestering him about what I found, what I read, what I saw. I could see in his eyes he wasn’t telling me all he knew, was holding things back like I wasn’t ready. I’ll be 18 next month, a MAN. It’s his fault, all he had to do was talk. I’m not a damn CHILD. It was his heart they say, and no one else knows about what I found hidden in his room. But now he’s dead and all thats left are some tattered old musty papers that can barely pass AS paper let alone be understood. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’d still feel like the farm kid I was half a year ago. But I’m not. And never will be again. The papers are vague and grampa was even more so, but what I can piece together is that before the Dawn War, Fallcrest was a city of power and our family were SOMEBODY, we mattered in Fallcrest, we had power, wealth, fame. And now the city is but a shadow of it’s former self and we have NOTHING, nothing but a god damn farm on the edge of this god forsaken land called Fallcrest. Hot. Dry. Dusty. Where once their was a forest now stands the odd twig “towering” over a bunch of sticks. And it’s all surrounded by what passed for farm land. HA!, more like desert. Try to make a living in that. And to make matters worse, we are not only just common farmers. We farm a days journey to the north of Fallcrest, as far from the seat of power as can be, all but forgotten……..
Grampa was a young boy during the Wars so he knew things about our past that could have helped our plight. But what did he do. The selfish old basterd took the information to his grave. No one else knows about what I’ve found and it’s gonna stay that way. My path is clear. Enough with chasing gnolls and wolves away from an unproductive farm and unmotivated family. I’m off to Fallcrest to learn what I can about IT’S past, and my own. And when it’s all over, Fallcrest will know the name………Voltoor.