Spots (of Death)

Name: Spots (of Death)

Age: 20

Race: Gnoll

Appearance: Spots is 7 ft tall, which is pretty damn good for a male. Unfortunately, he 'appears' to be rather disabled, often hunched over and limping slightly, but folks that know of him should beware, if not, they'll play right into his paws. He gets his name from the black spots covering his body, people saying that the ones who fight them end up gazing into the black depths of hell as Spots gladly sends them there. He's missing a large patch of fur around his right knee, where the bone has seemingly been broken prior.

Religious Beliefs: Tarnathwen

Homeland: Malibor

Equipment: Greatsword (bone) which he uses as a cane, and a massive cloak (hide)
Peddler's Pack with Lamp
Bone Jewelry to Peddle

Other items: Various vials of poisons, and acids on his waist, on a shabby belt fashioned out of the hide of his foes.

Magic/Miracles: Bone Shaman

Background: Spots was born a runt. His knee seemed deformed, and later on into his childhood he pretended to develop a bit of a hunchback. This led him to be often looked down upon in his savage society, as he couldn't really participate as well in battles. Spots spent all his time training however, planning to become the next chieftan. In his late teens, he had a growth spurt, causing him to be a bit of a giant for male standards. After a while, he turned to magic to help him. He practiced his own special form of arcane arts daily, a style that completely defied his deformities. He could finally overcome his shitty life. Then, on one glorious day, he hobbled over to the Matriach of the tribe, and challenged her. She scoffed at him, saying she'd make a show of it. Well, guess where his cloak came from? He then used her bones to fashion a greatsword. As he cackled in victory from finally defying the shitty hand of cards that life dealt him, the arena was dead silent. They roared in outrage as this pathetic runt rose up, and struck down their leader in one fell swoop while she was gloating. His magic defied the laws of combat, and he was cast out, never to return.

Out in the wilds, he starved in the desert, unused to the harsh solo lifestyle. He ate whatever he could find, swearing daily vengeance upon his tribe for casting him out after showing them he's not just some lowly runt. He hobbled along, using his bone greatsword as a cane, and even went into villages, using the hide of his chieftan as a cloak to hide his face. He slowly learned their ways, but never showed his face. Out in the wilds, he became and excellent hunter, especially in the old ways of tooth n claw. The towns however, began to send out hunting parties. All of which he thwarted, leaving him with a title out in his desert homelands. Spots of Death. Eventually, as he began to intercept hunting parties from his tribe, they adopted the name as well. Dozens of civilized and uncivilized hunting parties were massacred, the last thing they saw where his dark spots and a flash of his white fur.

Eventually, he had to leave as his bounty was getting higher and higher, and the bounty hunters were getting more skilled, and learning his tricks off of heresay. Perhaps he shouldn't have let one man live to spread the tale out of every party? Regardless, he fled to the swamps of Zerif, where he integrated himself into society as a traveler and a peddler, selling 'trinkets' from his fallen adversaries.



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Skills: Your character is allowed to spend up to 9 points in several professions, but no more than three points. Negotiate with the DM if for some reason you feel the need to go above three.

Skills are essentially: "What is your character good at?" Example: Sword fighting, Brawling, Poetry, Climbing...etc.

Magic: 2
Survival: 3
Stealth: 2
Bone Weapons: 2