Post by aduceron on Jul 2, 2019 0:38:13 GMT
Biography
Character Name: Kilyax Crakosh
Character Level: 3
Race: Dragornborn (brass)
Gender: Male
Alignment: NG
Deity: Hephaestus
Size: Medium
Hair: N/A
Eyes: Ember
Height: 6.5 ft
Weight: 350 lb
Age: 41
Standing tall with a powerful build forged from hard work, Kiliax has most noticeably a large scar along the right side of his face, blinding his eye. Quite large in complexion, a pretty thick neck and with scales of a dull ember color, reminiscent of the dragonborn of his kind. Usually slightly dirty from dust or soot and hands hardened by labour. Wears finely crafted armour and a heavy metal shield but tend to be more functional than stetical.
History:
Kilyax was born in the Crakosh tribe at the far east of Faerûn, in Tymanter.
He was a frail boy with little talent but too much ambition for his own good. As soon as he was old enough to work, he decided by himself to pick up his family’s trade of blacksmithing, even if his father tried his best to persuade him not to. He was young after all and it is not a job for kids, even for their kind it wasn’t the safest profession. But in the end, not even the old man could endure the little one’s persistence.
To everyone's surprise, he learned pretty quickly. He started moving firewood and sweeping soot, then chopping the logs and firing the forge, until finally, his father handed him the hammer.
It didn’t take long for his job to become his passion. Over the years his arms grew larger and his shoulders spread wider. The fire became his blood and hammering his heartbeat. His father was no longer with them but their legacy continued.
He married Sudrish when he was of age, a beautiful girl from his clan that beared his first born, Dodaar, a small lad with more energy than his parents wished.
From time to time he would almost make out words from the cracking of the fire. “Harder” as he hammered, “faster” as he poured, “hotter” as he fanned. He didn’t think much of it at first, but they became more frequent with time, to the point he considered he might not be imagining these voices or that he was losing his mind to vapours.
One dark night, the peace of the clan was broken by screams and metal, as what seemed like hell broke into the streets. Kilyax rushed outside to what he wished he didn’t. Doors being crumpled and the people behind them torn from their homes only to be executed there and then by tall men in shimmering dark armour, almost fiendish in design. In horror, Kilyax dashed through his home to get to the forge where he kept his masterwork, a beautifully crafted blade he named dawncleave.
His fears had come true when he saw his own son, who must have had the same idea, held aloft by one these tall figures. Timed stopped as their eyes met, but resumed soon as Dodaar screamed for help. Filled with adrenaline and fury, the father managed to reach for the exhibited blade and screamed out of the top of his lungs as he stroked the moving arm that was attempting to stop him. The sharp edge hit hard against the armor.
Dawncleave shattered like glass upon contact.
The steel let out a horrible and dry screech, in which Kilyax could swear heard the gentle voice “better”.
Shards of metal flew unnaturally in all directions, one of them slashing his face stirely.
Now frozen in shock and bloodied, Kilyax was left to watch the long blade enter his son, who fell lifeless. The figure leaned closer to the smith behind a cold horned helmet as he stood still and whispered “why kill a man, when you can kill a soul?” he and his wife were spared, as so did a few of the clan.
Hard times followed, the clan was almost wiped and sorrow took its toll. But it couldn’t end like this. If he was just a little better, if his blade was strong enough, he could have saved them, he could have saved him. Rage fired from his remaining eye.
Still struck by grief, he left his wife and clan behind and promised retaliation to those who ruined them. He set off west to become better, to forge the one that would break that unforgettable plate. With time, the voice became a friend and Kilyax was able to become one with the forge thanks to his newly found ally, Hephaestus.
Personality:
Despite his appearance and backstory. Kilyax is someone quite warm with people and tends to take things slow. He doesn’t often judge strangers and tries to make others trust him. He's quite curious and somewhat obsessed with his work and self-worth.
Stats
Ability Scores
27 point buy (racial ASI included) :
Strength: 17
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 14
Intelligence: 9
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 12
Class
Cleric (Forge Domain)
Cantrips:
Mending
Toll the dead
guidance
Skills
Insight (background)
Perception (background)
Persuasion (class)
History (class)
Proficiencies & Languages
Common
Draconic (race)
Dwarvish (background)
Dice set (background)
Light, medium and heavy armor
Shields
Simple weapons
Smith’s tools
Background
Far Traveler
Feats
Gear
Set of traveller clothes
Set of dice
poorly wrought maps from your homeland that depict the sword coast
Ruby pendant (10gp)
Mace (in the form of a smith's hammer)
Shield
Holy symbol
Explorer's pack
##bought{
Split armor
##sold back {
Light crossbow and 20 bolts
Chain mail
}
85GP
Character Name: Kilyax Crakosh
Character Level: 3
Race: Dragornborn (brass)
Gender: Male
Alignment: NG
Deity: Hephaestus
Size: Medium
Hair: N/A
Eyes: Ember
Height: 6.5 ft
Weight: 350 lb
Age: 41
Appearance:
Standing tall with a powerful build forged from hard work, Kiliax has most noticeably a large scar along the right side of his face, blinding his eye. Quite large in complexion, a pretty thick neck and with scales of a dull ember color, reminiscent of the dragonborn of his kind. Usually slightly dirty from dust or soot and hands hardened by labour. Wears finely crafted armour and a heavy metal shield but tend to be more functional than stetical.
History:
Kilyax was born in the Crakosh tribe at the far east of Faerûn, in Tymanter.
He was a frail boy with little talent but too much ambition for his own good. As soon as he was old enough to work, he decided by himself to pick up his family’s trade of blacksmithing, even if his father tried his best to persuade him not to. He was young after all and it is not a job for kids, even for their kind it wasn’t the safest profession. But in the end, not even the old man could endure the little one’s persistence.
To everyone's surprise, he learned pretty quickly. He started moving firewood and sweeping soot, then chopping the logs and firing the forge, until finally, his father handed him the hammer.
It didn’t take long for his job to become his passion. Over the years his arms grew larger and his shoulders spread wider. The fire became his blood and hammering his heartbeat. His father was no longer with them but their legacy continued.
He married Sudrish when he was of age, a beautiful girl from his clan that beared his first born, Dodaar, a small lad with more energy than his parents wished.
From time to time he would almost make out words from the cracking of the fire. “Harder” as he hammered, “faster” as he poured, “hotter” as he fanned. He didn’t think much of it at first, but they became more frequent with time, to the point he considered he might not be imagining these voices or that he was losing his mind to vapours.
One dark night, the peace of the clan was broken by screams and metal, as what seemed like hell broke into the streets. Kilyax rushed outside to what he wished he didn’t. Doors being crumpled and the people behind them torn from their homes only to be executed there and then by tall men in shimmering dark armour, almost fiendish in design. In horror, Kilyax dashed through his home to get to the forge where he kept his masterwork, a beautifully crafted blade he named dawncleave.
His fears had come true when he saw his own son, who must have had the same idea, held aloft by one these tall figures. Timed stopped as their eyes met, but resumed soon as Dodaar screamed for help. Filled with adrenaline and fury, the father managed to reach for the exhibited blade and screamed out of the top of his lungs as he stroked the moving arm that was attempting to stop him. The sharp edge hit hard against the armor.
Dawncleave shattered like glass upon contact.
The steel let out a horrible and dry screech, in which Kilyax could swear heard the gentle voice “better”.
Shards of metal flew unnaturally in all directions, one of them slashing his face stirely.
Now frozen in shock and bloodied, Kilyax was left to watch the long blade enter his son, who fell lifeless. The figure leaned closer to the smith behind a cold horned helmet as he stood still and whispered “why kill a man, when you can kill a soul?” he and his wife were spared, as so did a few of the clan.
Hard times followed, the clan was almost wiped and sorrow took its toll. But it couldn’t end like this. If he was just a little better, if his blade was strong enough, he could have saved them, he could have saved him. Rage fired from his remaining eye.
Still struck by grief, he left his wife and clan behind and promised retaliation to those who ruined them. He set off west to become better, to forge the one that would break that unforgettable plate. With time, the voice became a friend and Kilyax was able to become one with the forge thanks to his newly found ally, Hephaestus.
Personality:
Despite his appearance and backstory. Kilyax is someone quite warm with people and tends to take things slow. He doesn’t often judge strangers and tries to make others trust him. He's quite curious and somewhat obsessed with his work and self-worth.
Stats
Ability Scores
27 point buy (racial ASI included) :
Strength: 17
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 14
Intelligence: 9
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 12
Class
Cleric (Forge Domain)
Cantrips:
Mending
Toll the dead
guidance
Skills
Insight (background)
Perception (background)
Persuasion (class)
History (class)
Proficiencies & Languages
Common
Draconic (race)
Dwarvish (background)
Dice set (background)
Light, medium and heavy armor
Shields
Simple weapons
Smith’s tools
Background
Far Traveler
Feats
Gear
Set of traveller clothes
Set of dice
poorly wrought maps from your homeland that depict the sword coast
Ruby pendant (10gp)
Mace (in the form of a smith's hammer)
Shield
Holy symbol
Explorer's pack
##bought{
Split armor
Smith tools
x2 potion of healing
lamp
x5 oil
}##sold back {
Light crossbow and 20 bolts
Chain mail
}
85GP