Did not save vs. stone, equip was destroyed by said stone.

image/svg+xml Link Name AC XP Level Class Hit-points Property none = 9, leather = 7, chain = 5,plate = 3, shield = -1, minus dex bonus Strength Dexterity Constitution Intelligence Wisdom Charisma value bonus roll 3d6 for each Abilities, Languages Colors or Portrait Saving Throws Dragon breath, explosions Paralysis, Petrification Death, Poison Rays, Wands Spells AC of opponent: To hit: (+ dexterity bonus) 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Damage: (+ strength bonus in melee) Melee Ranged (+ strength bonus) d20 equalor better d20 equal or better Max Fighter & Dwarf: d8Magic User & Thief: d4everybody else: d6+ constitution bonus Sriswaralayan thief 1 _________ 5 5 14 +1 17 +2 14 +1 13 +1 9 9 16 13 14 15 13 17 18 17 16 16 15 15 14 14 13 13 12 12 11 11 10 10 9 9 8 1d6 backpackleather armorlong swordslingpouch with 30 stonesdagger (2)thieves’ toolsMedkit (2)flask of oilwooden polemirror9 gold 1/6 for normal tasks2/6 to hear noise2/6 Bone Doctor skill4/6 Wound Treatment skill+4 to hit and double damage backstabbing value34-56-89-1213-1516-1718 bonus-3-2-1+1+2+3 4 + charisma bonus Retainers 7 + charisma bonus 7 Reactions Loyalty 4 value34-89-1213-1718 bonus-2-1+1+2


Sriswaralayan, or Sriswar for short, grew up a poor boy in the company of a family living on the fringe of society. Here in the wild, one must learn everything possible in order to survive, and his father was an ex-soldier, and taught him how to hunt, how to care for the land, and probably most importantly, how to defend himself when the time arrived. He learned how to grow crops and hunt identify medicinal herbs and nutritious wild plants. Sriswar’s mother cared for the animals on the small plot of land, a few chickens, a goat, and an ass. Sriswar learned from his mother how to cook,how to render a killed animal and put its parts to use, and most importantly how to put the many medicinal herbs the land yielded to use.

Alas, this simple life ended after the great interegnum. Sreiswaralayan was conscripted into his nation’s army, where he would put his hunting, tracking, and healing skills to use. He was immediately recognized as being more valuable as a hospitaller, where his main combat priority was to begin immediate treatment of wounds caused by war. Sriswar’s mother only taught him how to read the few holy texts their poor family had, but he put this skill to use reading the many treatises on medical knowledge. Sriswar could easily grasp these concepts, and he combined his knowledge of botanicals and discovered medical knowledge to treat his comrades effectively. He attained the rank of coroporal men-at-arms by the height of his campaign.

War scarred this young boy, and turned him into a man. He had seen the horror of war up close, and stared Osno in the face many times, masquerading as the visage of many dying men younger than he. He saw the clerics, and almost resented them for how they acted. They would walk amongst the dead and dying, chanting their rites, “passing them along” to their gods. He saw soldiers grasp at their ankles pleading “please, heal me.” The powers of magic at their fingertips, yet they saved their magic for the nobility. Sriswar had brought his friends, comrades, and commanders back from this brink with his skills, and he was almost mocked for how crude it was. If a soldier had mangled his arm to a bludgeoning attack, it must be forfeit, but he would at least live to see another day and not die an agonizing death in the mound of bodies. Sriswar had no miracles that would magically close wounds and stop bleeding, nothing that would return one’s limb to it’s proper place, only his salves, medicines, and a seutering kit, but he knew he’d saved more lives in that war than any priest, yet those hospitallers always received the fame for the lives he’d saved.

After the fighting came to a settle and his constription in the army had expired, he took his pension and ventured forth. After the war, he couldn’t go back to the farming life, to his family. He was no longer the boy they knew him to be, but a man scarred by the faces of dozens of dead friends. He left onward in hopes of helping anyone that he may come across. perhaps he could extend their miserable life with his abilities to heal the sick, and the wounded.


-Drowning in Sorrow: Sriswaralayan tends to drink too much when drink is abundant.

-Disdain for Holy Order: Sriswaralayan has little respect for priests and structured religious practice. He does not hate them, but he also thinks priests bask in the praise their followers give, when they should be directing that praise to their god.

-Meek but Mighty: Sriswaralayan is not the greatest warrior, and often caves to the orders of someone with higher military or noble standing, but is not stupid and won’t follow orders that result in unnecessary loss of life. He is a great tactician although and is good as recognizing the falts in an enemies defenses, and abusing them correctly.