Otren Born Architect/Combat Medic
35 years old, 6"0 – 250lbs
Crew cut style short red hair, braided beard about 6 inches long
Level 5 (gestalt)
Fighter 3 / Cleric 3
Total XP: 10,000
Next Lvl: 15,000
22 AC (Axe/Shield) 20 AC (Greatsword)
Concentration: 4 (2+2)
Craft: Carpentry: 7 (0+5+2)
Craft: Stonemasonry: 5 (0+5)
Heal: 4 (3+1)
Knowledge (Architecture): 5 (0+5)
Knowledge (Religion): 3 (0 + 3)
Spellcraft: 1 (0+1)
Battleaxe: + 9 Attack Bonus, 1d8 + 3 damage, x3 crit /Masterwork)
Handaxe: + 8 Attack Bonus, 1d6 + 3 damage, x3 crit
Adamantine Greatsword: + 10 Attack Bonus, 2d6 + 6 damage, 19-20/x2 crit (adamantine/masterwork/WF)
Masterwork Full Plate: + 8 AC, +1 max dex bonus, -5 check penalty
Masterwork Large Steel Shield: +2 AC, -1 check penalty
Ring Of Protection +1
Ring (Unknown effect as of 10/11/11)
Weapon Focus: Greatsword (domain granted)
Contents Of Backpack/On his person: (as of 10/11/11)
Silver Comb w/moonstones
Parchment traced with old language denoting a dedication to goddess of shadow
Waterskin; Contains mysterious alcohol
Flask; contains honey that makes you fall asleep
Rope, Hemp (50ft)
Masterwork Artisan Tools; carpentry
Medallion (?) found during defense of keep during “Part 3+4: Let the Battle Commence”
20 gold pieces
Belongings at homestead:
1190 gold pieces
An Early Account
“Barely even a man, Thoradun would be changed by war before he had turned 18.”
Otren was neck deep in a bog and sinking fast. It’s water was death and it’s disappearing edges lost territory. The army needed able men to boslter last ditch efforts, the majority of new recruits at this point were foolish young men looking to become heroes as they always do in times of war. Thoradun however was not one of this men, quite the opposite as it were. The town he was born in was holding well under pressure, despite a lack of resources and loss of it’s younger generation to the call of battle. Thoradun was an apprentice carpenter to a Njord, the founder and architect of the little town. A quick study and able worker, Thoradun felt at peace when creating things. Njord noticed early on that Thoradun had an eye not only for practicality but ingenuity as well in building design.
Quick to take him under his wing, Njord taught him everything he could about architecture. He did his best to instill a respect and reverance for the gods as well. Though Thoradun would ignore these lectures he would carry one piece of wisdom with him, “Faith is vital whether in gods, your fellow man, or yourself. You need to trust, Thoradun. There is strength you do not comprehend in faith”. It was during the end of his apprenticeship that Thoradun met Frimla. Frimla’s father had fallen in battle, the village looked upon them with pity having no male to support them. Despite this Frimla’s mother was steadfast in the face of tragedy, she convinced the baker to allow her to become his apprentice to feed herself and Frimla.
At first Thoradun did not pay any mind to her, though she was very pretty he was focused on his work. Frimla persisted in her efforts to be noticed by the young carpenter, she would spend all day around the shop asking him questions about what he was doing. At first he merely thought she was trying to frustrate him asking such simple questions, but after a few weeks he began to understand. They began to drink wine together in the evening, Thoradun would talk of his joy in working with Fjord and his fear of being drafted into the battle. Frimla would speak with disdain for the war, her anger at the loss of her father and her hope that Rook would no longer visit their village.
It had been a few weeks and Thoradun and Frimla had grown close, so close that Thoradun had shared a secret with her that at the time nobody knew. Despite Frimla’s beauty and attraction to Thoradun, he shared with her his feelings for the baker’s son Curche. This was a sign of shame in the village should anyone find out, and for a few days Frimla did not speak to him from shock and confusion. One of only two people that knew aside from Thoradun, the other being Fjord (actually unknown to Thoradun) whom had figured it out on his own, but was a caring man that did not seek to judge the desires of others. When Frimla finally came back to Thoradun, she told him she did not care how he felt and that he could not know if he had never been with a woman. And so they drank all night, and in a haze of confusion and alcohol they slept together.
This was at first a cause of great confusion and frustration for Thoradun, yet all it did in the end was clarify for him that he very much would only be able to love another man. Unfortunately for Frimla, he was rather cowardly as a young man before war would change him. And so among the confusion of feelings and anger he decided that the only thing to do for him now was to head to the front lines and face what the gods (or otherwise) had in store for him.
Fjord was the only one that knew, as he fled in the middle of the night. Fjord warned him that running, even to war, was not going to do him any good. That eventually we all must face ourselves, and who we really are. Thoradun thanked Fjord for all he had taught him, and asked that he be the one to tell Frimla that he was not coming back.
Running Away To War
It had only been two weeks since Thoradun fled from his home. He had managed to convince the innkeeper of the next town over to allow him a room for a week at a mere fraction of the regular fee. Thoradun explained he was on hi way to enlist, and that he was running low on funds. The woman admired the young patriot (unaware of Thoradun’s real motives) and told him of her own husband off fighting at the front, Ronavus.
Again due to the generosity of the woman Thoradun had ridden a wagon to the nearest town with an enlistment camp. So there he stood among a dozen others varying from butchers to cobblers. They had just completed an assessment training exercise in which he felt had exemplified his prowess as a swordsman. The recruiter paced back and forth shouting names followed by a troop number and position title. “Ronavus, Thoradun” shouted the short bespectacled balding man. When asked for his name he impulsively replied with Ronavus as his sir-name, he hadn’t meant to give a false name but it just came to him. He wondered if the woman (or better yet her husband) would mind his use of the name. “Ronavus, Thoradun!” came the voice again in a much harsher tone. Stepping forward he prepared himself for assignment, “Squad 486, Medic!”
Months had passed since that moment, “Medic!” the moment sat fresh in his mind as if he still stood there amid the foolish young enlistees. Granted this did not appear as glorious as being a heavy cavalryman, yet he took pride in his work. Despite the fact that his squad leader (and very nearly every squad member) insisting he could barely apply a bandage, let alone properly mend a wound. And it was true for quite a long time, he was a terrible healer and bad under pressure. However as time moved on, he began to prove that he was not the greatest medic but he was very capable of fighting his was to a fallen ally and get them out of danger faster than anyone in the battlefield.
It was also during this extended time on the field that Thoradun came to accept and even revel in his sexuality. While taking care of a man just one year younger than himself, the two grew very close. Thoradun tended to his wounds for nearly two full weeks, and though during their brief and secretive relationship the man would later say that it was just the war that caused him to act that way. Thoradun made no attempt to deny his own feelings though he did not endeavor to oust his former lover. He would gladly defend his choices in conversation or fisticuffs if it ever came to that (which it often did). Whether or not his fellow soldiers were accepting of his sexual desires did not come up often as time progressed. He proved too valuable a friend and ally in combat for anyone to scorn him. That didn’t mean that occasionally during lulls in combat that a few troops wouldn’t get out of hand with name calling. Yet Thoradun took it all in stride, it may have angered him but he needed to rely on these men in the face of enemy attacks and they him. This time in battle taught Thoradun that it was a waste of time and effort to convince anyone of his worth. If his skill in battle, and loyalty to his friends was not enough for someone then they were not worth his time.
When the war had finally ended, Thoradun was given honorable mention for leading a small group of 4 other men as “Combat Medics” specializing in getting fallen allies out of difficult situations. He landed in Urad of all places after some restless post war wandering. Falling back on his old skills he took work as a general builder, and craftsman of stone masonry and carpentry.