INTRODUCING RIZIRizi's Character SheetHalf-Orc Ranger
STR: 14 DEX: 18 CON: 12
INT: 9 WIS: 10 CHA: 9
Rizi's contact is Kivga Thindrasdottir, a travelling dwarf blacksmith and fletcher who crafts her wares in a small village near Citadel Rivad. It wouldn't be surprising to see her cart as far north as Westpool. Kivga may be a good source of rumors or discounts.
David let me know if anything needs to be changed. Also I just feel that it needs to be said that I will always love the D&D setting, but fuck Pathfinder. Fuck it right in the ashigaru.RIZI’S BACKSTORY
The bearded young bounty hunter extended a hand under the overturned wagon. “It’s all right, young one,” he said. “Come out.”
The half-orc child crawled out, her knees sliding in the mud, her body shaking, eyes wide, taking in the corpses of her small tribe and the scattered fires that marked the ruins of their camp.
“Did you see which way the goblins went?” The man asked.
The girl shook her head.
“Well, I’m not leaving you here alone. What’s your name?”
She shook her head again, terrified.
“Then I’ll call you Rizi. My name is Baren the bounty hunter. You’re mine now. Come on.”
10 YEARS LATER
Baren didn’t turn away from the fire when the door opened. “Why are you here?” he asked softly.
Rizi stood in the doorway, pulling the soaked ends of her fox hood tighter to her body. “Please, father. It’s been three days.”
“Do you have the head of the minotaur?”
“No, father. I tracked him through miles of sewer and lost him in a reservoir.”
“I don’t understand, Rizi. Why would you come back with nothing to show for yourself?”
“Because …” Rizi snarled away a tear. “I’m hungry.”
Baren turned suddenly, one hand yanking the hot fire poker away from its place. “You’re hungry?” He shouted. “You want me to buy you food? Food costs money!” He stepped forward and swung the poker overhead; it struck her shoulder and she whimpered. “You haven’t brought in a job in weeks!” Another blow, this one hit her hand where it was covering her head. “You’re a disgrace to our profession.” He raised the poker for another blow, but paused. Then he tossed it aside. “I should have left you under that wagon.”
She bared her fangs at him and roared. The fangs were still just coming in. Pathetic, like the rest of her. He laughed. She clapped her mouth shut. “I’ll find that bull,” she said. “And when I do you’ll owe me a feast.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
She turned and rushed out of the room.
Baren turned back to the fire. “Useless piggart,” he muttered.
SIX YEARS LATER
The moment Kivga Thindrasdottir looked up from her anvil and saw Rizi standing alone in her hut, she knew something was wrong.
“What happened?” she asked, flicking a long red braid off her face.
Rizi smiled at the dwarf, but her eyes carried no joy. “I’m just here for ten barbed arrows.”
“Baren never lets you into town alone,” said the dwarf.
“Baren won’t be letting me or not letting me go into town from now on. Or anywhere else for that matter.” Rizi’s words were quiet, ominous. Kivga saw fresh bloodstains on her boots; a tear in the old gray fur hood. She pulled a pouch of barbed arrowheads off the counter and tossed them to Rizi. “On the house,” she said. “About time someone took care of that bastard.”
Rizi’s fangs bared involuntarily for a moment. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said. Then she turned and quietly walked out of the hut.
(Note to DM: I did pay for the barbed arrows on my character sheet).