Fighter Level 2 | Exp: 2,050
Male Human (Ulfen)
N Medium humanoid (human)
Init + 3; Senses Perception + 4
AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 14 ( + 4 armor, + 3 Dex)
hp 1/11 (1d10 + 1)
Fort + 3, Ref + 3, Will + 1
Speed With Armor: 20 ft.
Without Armor: 30 ft.
Melee bastard sword +4 (1d10 + 3/19-20) and
dagger +4 (1d4 + 3/19-20)
Str 16, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 7
Base Atk + 1; CMB + 4; CMD 17
Feats Alertness, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (bastard sword), Intimidating Prowess
Traits axe to grind, bastard, vagabond child (urban)
Skills Intimidate +5, Perception +4, Sense Motive +8, Sleight of Hand +6
Languages Common, Skald
Other Gear armored coat, bastard sword, dagger, backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, flint and steel, mess kit, pot, rope, soap, torch (10), trail rations (5), waterskin, 99 gp
Axe to Grind +1 trait bonus on damage against foes who are threatened by only you.
Dependent Shaken for 1 hour when you fail a Diplomacy check.
Drapsmann was born a bastard and not a single person ever let him forget that. His mother worked as a courtesan. At least that she tried to fancy herself. She really was just a bar wench with a pretty face who had the bad habit of getting smacked around and sleep with anyone with a heavy coin purse. This promiscuity also lead to the birth of Drapsmann’s older and more psychotic brother. A Half-Orc by the name of Grusom. Because of their mother actively bringing home their new “dad” of the day. Grusom and Drapsmann grew up on the streets rarely coming home unless it was necessary. It was here that Drapsmann learned how twisted the world would could be; as twisted as his face would become. Drapsmann one day was speaking to a pretty girl at the market. Jealous of his brother’s good looks Grusom grabbed acid from a nearby table and grabbing the back of his head pouring it on his face. This would give him scars that would last him the rest of his life. Being rejected as a freak and a bastard quickly developed a chip on his shoulder against everyone and everything. Drapsmann was angry and twisted and starting to become very much like his brother when an elderly mercenary took him under his wing. This mercenary taught him to be smart, disciplined, how to fight and most importantly; How much a smart disciplined fighter could be worth. “10 times more than a solider!” The Old Mercenary would say when he would have few cups of wine. He was speaking of the Zephyer Guard of Katapesh. While the Old Mercenary soon left, his teachings and stories fascinated Drapsmann who as soon as he had enough gold in his pocket, he took a ship to the mysterious Katapesh.