Character Directory

A medium-tall human. He wears the heavy vestments of his order and, on missions, a custom carapace. His left arm is missing and has been replaced with a mechanical one rigged to engulf in flames. He is usually serious and rumored to be insane, which never leaves any new ship member anything other than wary for confession.

S5 I9 W18 D7 C2 Ch18, AC4, HP5.
Club.

Str 11, Dex 10, Con 13*, Int 7, Wis 16*, Cha 17*
BtH +2, AC 17, hp 21+1d8
AL NG

Weapons: +1 morningstar
Armor: plate mail
Equipment: backpack, bedroll, fishing gear, flint/steel/tinder, glowing ruby, holy symbol (silver), potion of cure light wounds
Mount: pony (w/ saddle)

Charmed Existence (Con): +2 to Con saves
Charmed Existence (Dex): +2 to Dex saves

The first thing you would notice about this Goblin is that he is extremely large for his race, he stands 4'2 and weighs in at 170 lbs.

Unlike others of his race, he exhibits a very calm demeanour. His eyes are intelligent and always watching, it seems as though he is calculating something...

He speaks perfect Common and Dwarven.

You can see that he is wearing all black mail armor obviously dented from battle but well maintained.

He wears no visible markings that would affiliate him with any order or group, except for the holy symbol which he carries in a special sling over his left shoulder.
A symbol of this nature indicates he has been trained by priests of Moradin in the arts of combat healing.

Little is known about Goblin societies and as a race, Goblins are not known for talking about their feelings or history.

What any Goblin will tell you is that tribe life is harsh and survival of the fittest is the only law.

This is particularly true with infants in the brood pits, they are sometimes fed but other times the strongest are forced to eat the weak out of pure hunger.

After surviving the pits, young goblins are immediately taught to rely only on themselves and that to survive, they must be aggressive and ruthless.

When the chieftain emerged from the pits holding and overgrown man-child, he appropriately named him Fats.

The largest child the tribe had seen in a century, he was already the height & size of small adult Goblin.

The child had displayed cunning to survive in the pits, but his size was impressive enough to intimidate adults.
In Goblin societies, this is usually a sign that the child will become a leader.

The Chieftain declared him to be an omen of great importance and that he was destined to lead the tribe to wealth and glory.

It was decided that he be secluded in the private training grounds where he would be taught in the arts of tribal warfare.

Such would have been his life, if not for the Dwarves.

1 month after he was secluded, Dwarven crusaders emerged at the entrance to Goblin Lair and stormed their defences with little opposition.

The Dwarves forces were on a mission to reclaim an entrance to a long ago, caved-in mountain tunnel and eliminate all threats in the area.

At the end of the one sided battle, all of the Goblins in that lair were slaughtered.. all except one.

As the Goblin lair was to put to the torch, a single Dwarven battle priest was exploring crèches and came across a large secluded pit with only 1 entrance.
It had no windows, instead only small holes near the roof to allow light in.

He entered the dark, dank pit.
When his eyes adjusted, he was confronted with a disturbing image.
A single goblin child with no weapon, fighting off 2 wolves while protecting a large piece of meat.

The child was obviously large and doing an admirable job of fending off the wolves but he was bleeding from fresh animal bites.
The Dwarf thought the child would not likely survive the night without the Goblin tribe to save him.

For an unknown reason, this Dwarf took pity on the child, he killed the animals and gave aid to Fats.
The Goblin child was exhausted from battle and passed out once it was clear the Dwarf would not kill him.

Not knowing what to do with the child, the Dwarf wouldn't allow himself to kill a sleeping infant creature, especially after surviving such an ordeal.

The Dwarf decided to give this child a chance, he acquired a cart and piled in "stolen relics" to conceal and transport the Goblin in secret to the nearest temple of Moradin.

Here, Fats began a new life.

Awesome

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Fauder was born, youngest, to the well-known Orindian vintner Saffe'est Vunderjuce. As he grew Fauder became increasingly involved in the family's wine business, eventually beoming the leader of one of the family wine caravans. His success there grew from his early enlistment in the army where, over the course of 3 years, he learned the care of riding animals. While enlisted he also learned the advantage of the use of magic and when he left their employ he took the necessary steps to begin to learn Magic. As this occurred between family caravan trips his education was, necessarily, protracted. He is now a well-educated man in his mid-late 20's. Just WHY he is leaving the care of his family & the security of his small home is unclear to most of his acquaintances - though if you ask him nicely he MIGHT not turn you into a frog.

At, five-feet eleven-inches, Faunlor Pennibrooke is an extremely attractive half-human. His pale white skin, dreamy green eyes, and long sandy blond hair makes him a dreamboat to the all the ladies out there.
He's skinny, he's got a devilish smile, and a rad goatee. He's always fashionable and stylistic.
He's easily spotted out in a crowd, with a mandolin slung across his back, and a cigarette in his mouth.

Faunlor Pennibrooke was born to half-human parents, Kohav and Nansha Pennibrooke in the grotto of Bottle Top city. He was known in the neighborhood as the "little scamp who's always playing that annoying flute."
Refusing to join the army, and avoiding his duties in his working-class life, Faunlor was exiled from the island at the age of twelve.
He traveled to the Northern lands, where he begged for food and money along the streets.
When he found most of the lands inhabitants were indeed just as poor as he was, he resulted in thievery. Stealing apples and bananas from importing boats along the harbor.
One day, when Faunlor was fourteen, he met a man who had a mandolin. Faunlor fell in love with the instrument and desired to learn how to master it. The elderly bard took him under his wing and let Faunlor travel alongside him across the Northern realm of the world.
There, Faunlor learned how to tap into his Elven lineage and perform some arcane magic, spot secret doors, and perfect his magical music.
When the elderly bard died, Faunlor was now in his early twenties and was by this time more than an intermediate mandolin player.
He took his act on the road and collected as many gold coins and free lodgings as he could take.
After getting very tired of the predictable Northern lands, and fascinated by the stories he had heard of adventurers to the South. Faunlor packed his knapsack, his mandolin, and hit the road to seek adventure, fame, and fortune... and women.

Faunlor doesn't care about you, he doesn't care about your mom, he really only cares about himself and that he is having more fun than you are. If he's not having fun, he'll stop doing it until it is fun. Don't ask him for something, he won't give it to you just to spite you.