Cole

Description:

====== Created Using Wizards of the Coast D&D Character Builder ====== Cole, level 5 Razorclaw Shifter, Ranger Build: Archer Ranger Fighting Style: Two-Blade Fighting Style Background: Last of the Breed (Last of the Breed Benefit)

FINAL ABILITY SCORES Str 15, Con 13, Dex 19, Int 10, Wis 16, Cha 8.

STARTING ABILITY SCORES Str 14, Con 13, Dex 16, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 8.

AC: 19 Fort: 15 Reflex: 17 Will: 15 HP: 50 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 12

TRAINED SKILLS Nature +10, Acrobatics +14, Athletics +10, Stealth +14, Perception +13, Thievery +10

UNTRAINED SKILLS Arcana +2, Bluff +1, Diplomacy +1, Dungeoneering +5, Endurance +3, Heal +5, History +2, Insight +5, Intimidate +1, Religion +2, Streetwise +1

FEATS Level 1: Sneak of Shadows Level 2: Weapon Proficiency (Tratnyr) Level 4: Weapon Expertise (Spear)

POWERS Ranger at-will 1: Twin Strike Ranger at-will 1: Hunter’s Teamwork Ranger encounter 1: Evasive Strike Ranger daily 1: Hunter’s Bear Trap Ranger utility 2: Hunter’s Privilege (retrained to Yield Ground at Level 2) Ranger encounter 3: Disruptive Strike Ranger daily 5: Spitting-Cobra Stance

ITEMS Hide Armor, Adventurer’s Kit, Dagger (4), Distance Tratnyr +1 (2), Everlasting Provisions (heroic tier), Cannith Goggles (heroic tier), Climber’s Kit, Crowbar, Everburning Torch, Thieves’ Tools, Sandals of Precise Stepping (heroic tier) ====== Copy to Clipboard and Press the Import Button on the Summary Tab ======

Bio:

I should be dead.

As a plebe to the Resolute Two Hundred, they deliberately underfed us. In order to survive we had to steal. I lost count the number of times I almost bought it. The guard’s crossbow, the farmer’s pitchfork, the huntsman’s dogs, the soldier’s sword, they almost had me.

I should be dead.

Hell week is the Resolute Two Hundred’s annual celebration of the defeat of the Red Hand. As a plebe, it was my rite of passage to become counted among the Two Hundred. I was allowed to hunt and indiscriminately kill any goblin that crossed my path. It was an adrenaline rush like I had never felt before. I was reckless, but by the end of the week, I was still standing.

I should be dead.

The Resolute Two Hundred was an elite mobile fighting force that had no equal. Capable of withstanding the most furious of onslaughts, its final demise came as a surprise to everyone. In just one night, the disease spread through the entire encampment like wildfire. By morning, I was alone.

I should be dead.

The disease that claimed the lives of my comrades was no accident. Bent on vengeance, whether by word in the morning, by coin in the evening, or by knife in the night, I combed the vale for those responsible. I had given up all hope for justice. I was ready to end it all out of frustration, if it had not been for him. A missionary of the Raven Queen showed me another path.

I should be dead.

The years passed by as I returned to my roots. I was fur trapping as did my father before me, as did his father before him. The word the missionary had died struck my soul. I would make the pilgrimage to pay my final respects and decide whether to continue down this path or to seek out a new one.

I should be …

Cole

War Missives Nike