Bren :: (Read-Only) - Myth-Weavers

Character Name		Player		Alignment	Current XP	Next Level XP	XP Change
Class		Race		Campaign		Deity
Level	Size	Age	Gender	Height	Weight	Eyes	Hair

Ability	Score	Mod	Temp Score	Temp Mod
STR
DEX
CON
INT
WIS
CHA

Action Points

Touch

Flat-footed

	Total		Dex		Misc
INIT		=		+


Speed	Armor Type

	Light Load
	Med Load
	Max Load
	Over Head
	Off Ground
	Push/ Drag

FORTITUDE

REFLEX

WILL

	Total Attack Bonus		Base Attack Bonus		Str Mod		Size Mod		Misc Mod		Temp Mod
MELEE		=		+		+		+		+
RANGED		=		+		+		+		+
	Total Attack Bonus		Base Attack Bonus		Dex Mod		Size Mod		Misc Mod		Temp Mod

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Weapon	Total Attack Bonus	Damage	Critical	Range

Special Properties	Ammunition	Weight	Size	Type

Armor/Protective Item	Type	AC Bonus	Check Pen	Max Dex

Special Properties		Weight	Spell Fail	Speed

Shield/Protective Item	Type	AC Bonus	Check Pen	Max Dex

Special Properties		Weight	Spell Fail	Speed

Spell Saves
Save DC	LEVEL	Spells /Day	Bonus Spells
	0		0
	1st
	2nd
	3rd
	4th
	5th
	6th
	7th
	8th
	9th

Spells & Powers

Number of Spells/Powers Known (Bards, Sorcerers, Psions & Psi Warriors)
0	1st	2nd	3rd	4th
5th	6th	7th	8th	9th

Spell/Power Name	# Cast /Mem

Spell/Power Name	# Cast /Mem

Psionics
Manifester Level			Key Ability

Base	Bonus	Max	Current

Currency

Languages

Description

When one looks at Bren, one sees a human male, apparently in his mid-thirties or so. His face showing the signs of being no stranger to battle (although the only truly prominet scar is one on his forehead, just above his left eye). 

His features seem to place him as a human from the south, his blue eyes might hint at the western provinces. His frame isn't that impressive looking but those who know him know that his clothes and armour hide a good deal of muscles. Unlike some people with strength, however, Bren is quite agile.

Personality

When Bren was young and stupid, he joined the mercenaries out of boredom, seeking a thrilling life of glory on the battlefield.

He got older though.

Nowadays, Bren is quite happy to enjoy boredom while it lasts and is therefore mostly a calm and quiet person. 

Bren has spent a good deal of his life killing other sentients for money. As far as he is concerned, this is just the natural order of things. 

The only difference is that he doesn't eat those he kills, but rather uses the silver he is paid for killing to buy his food.

Character Traits

Bren doesn't enjoy killing stuff. 

That doesn't stop him from doing it though, and when he does go about it, his matter-of-fact attitude and calm (some would say ruthless) efficiency about fighting makes one wonder if Bren has any empathy at all.

Which he does. He can feel the pain of others, it is just that he got wounded often enough himself that it no longer bothers him that much.

Still, Bren likes to think of himself to be better then a common thug. So he has set himself a few rules he tries his best to stick to:

- Stays bought: When Bren accepts a job, he sticks to it and does his best effort to see it through. He isn't quite prepared to lay down his life for any cause though.

- Spare non-combatants: Bren has nobody to blame for his troubles then himself, he chose the way of the mercenary, stupid boy that he was. But others did not and pulling those unwilling into a fight is just no. He'd rather send some hapless villagers running away and call reinforcements then kill them in cold blood. If they chose to come at him with a pitchfork however... they made their choice. Unless they seem to be defending their children. Thats something that seems to pluck a string inside Bren. Can't stand to watch a child getting hurt. 

- No pay, no play: Bren is a mercenary. He is a military service provider. A professional. He doesn't go around 'doing good' or some such nonsense. Heroism isn't a way of life, it's a cause of death. If you want Bren's help, you better make it worth his while. But then again, Bren once helped a child who paid him a single copper piece to deal with a bunch of thugs who accosted the child's father. Apparently that was enough for him to be it worth his while.

Character Flaws

Bren is a lot of things. Being nice isn't his strong point however. Since he perceives the killing and being killed going on as the natural order of things, he is pretty indifferent to the suffering of others, unless he is somehow seeing it as his job to do something about it.

And out of some misguided sense of pride, he won't help anyone without being paid for it. Although he accepts more then just coin as payment and doesn't shy away from offering his services to those in need of them.

And there is that thing about Bren, let's say, having a knack for boasting: he is not a very talkative person, but if he goes about it, no tale is too tall to be told. Unfortunately, lack of charm and experience leave his storytelling skills somewhat to be desired.

Contacts / Friends

Since the disruption of his old mercenary unit, Bren has been pretty alone, moving around the country and selling his services wherever. 

Even since he arrived at Rawee, Bren has been slow to make any contacts, let alone friends. 

His mostly indifferent attitude towards people seems to alienate some. Then again, he also doesn't care for racism. People are people, they die all the same. 

Still, in a moment of weaknes, Bren admitted to Horace, the dwarven barkeep, that he always liked fighting dwarves best. They don't cheat and if the battle turns sour, you can always run for it because, between their short legs and heavy armour, dwarves are just that slow. Plus they don't favour ranged weapons like those elves do. Nasty buggers, elves, can't outrun them and even if you could, turning your back to them just makes one an easier target...

Enemies

The fact that he also has a knack for remaining calm and quiet while bashing somebody's face in has made some people quite wary of him.

And being a mercenary (who obviously collected much of his gear from those who no longer had a use for it) didn't exactly endear him to the local garrison of soldiers.

Statistic Block

Condition and Effects	Additional Information
* CC ranks in Hide/Move Silently only cost 1 pt,, ACP in light or med. armour is 1 less.	http://rpolportraits.shannara-rose.com/mfw365.jpg http://rpolportraits.shannara-rose.com/mfw358.jpg http://rpolportraits.shannara-rose.com/mfw345.jpg

When you grow up in a small village, life can be pretty unexciting. For those with more smarts then common sense, this can be pretty boring too.

So when an opportunity to escape that boredom presents itself, some are all too eager to grab it. Some come to regret that choice. Some don't live long enough to do so, however.

Bren was lucky enough to have been picked up by company of mercenaries, rather then the central army. Lucky in the sense that, while mercenaries are generally a rather unsavoury bunch, they usually make a point of surviving their engagements to spend their hard earned gold.

Then again, for some outfits that means padding out the front lines with the 'fresh meat'. Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'meatshield'. Bren was now just happy enough to have lived through his first battle. More due to luck then any real skill at arms or anything. It also definitely cured him of his boredom problem.

Of course, now he was stuck with that job he signed up for. Still, it could have been worse. After the first fight (which they thankfully happened to end up on the winning side of), he and some other new guys had the task to collect the wounded and slit the throats of the casualties with the wrong uniform. While he first balked at the idea of killing off a helpless person, the fact that his fellows seemed to not care much made him play along. And when he saw how the wounded would fare, he wondered if the dead ones weren't the lucky ones. 

Even though the mercenaries spent a good deal of the gold they made on a surgeon, the most he could do for the mortally wounded was to give them something to ease the pain until the end. For others, to save their lives, he would have to use the saw. 

Bren was appalled. He still decided to help out as best as he could. After all, the next time it could be him with the leg stump. 

In the end, Bren picked up a bit or two about treating a wound, how to stitch a cut and what natural remedies exist to help stop a wound from becoming infected.

That still left the matter of his actual choice in trade, however.

"So how do you do it?" he asked one of the veteran mercenaries, "I mean, every time we fight we either kill or are killed, that is not fun at all if you get my drift... how can you be so calm about it? How do you manage not to... well you know... "

"Sh*t myself?"

Bren nodded.

"Well lad, it's quite simple really: Kill or be killed, that is our job. Now you ask a hunter about what he does, it is quite the same really. He goes after some furry critter to shoot, skin and eat it. If he's smart, he only goes after critters which can't fight back. We on the other hand, well our prey fights back, and usually does a fair job of it. But we kill 'em for food nonetheless. Even if we just get paid for it instead of, you know, skinning and eating them. And when you live on a farm... well, you know how winter comes and all the hogs save one gets slaughtered for the meat? Same deal really. You only need one hog to service the sows, so the others become food. Think of it that way, it's just natural really. Can't dwell on it, makes you go crazy. And in a battle, you cannot afford to think at all, makes you dead." 

Bren nodded. There was some truth to the older mercenaries words. Yes, the animals are put to the slaughter and they don't even have a chance to fight for their lives. As mercenaries, they and their opposing number basically put each others up for slaughter. But at least each one had a fighting chance. 

"Yeah, I suppose, coming to think of it, it is quite one thing to cut a hog's throat and only think of the meat and quite another to be that hog. Huh, one could say our job is at least honest enough to admit that it is bloody work..."

"Aye, bloody work. Let no one tell you otherwise. Them soldiers, they sometimes get a delusion about fighting for some cause or another. All they do is fight for the causes of the people who send them off to die. But heh, it is easier when you can tell yourself your death will matter more then just feeding the crows. Better be delusional and happy then right and sad, eh lad?"

Bren talked some more and one of the other mercs taught him a trick to focus one's mind on one matter at hand. How to ignore the din of battle and the threat of immediate death and just fight. Some kind of mediation. It served him well.

##

As far as his actual job skills were concerned (i. e. chopping up other sentients), Bren picked up all matter of weapons during his carreer. As his company was hired for all kinds of jobs, front line battles thankfully not being the norm, Bren also was exposed to a lot of different deployments. Which kinda helped explain why so many mercs had so many weapons with them.

"Uh okay, so... spear to throw at the charging enemy and then sword and shield for the actual fighting, eh?"

"That's about right."

"Whats with all those knives?"

"What about them? Can't have enough knives. Suppose your weapon breaks? Suppose some bugger grapples you? You would be in a fine mess without a backup blade. Besides, sometimes you don't have a spear but still want to give someone charging you a chance to die before he gets to you. Throw a knife, sometimes it even works. And bows... lad, if you get the chance to waste somebody at a distance, you use it."

"Uh huh... so whats with that blade on your shield? "

"Heh, that is to make me look more badass. So when they come at me, they wet themselves just looking at me and I have an easier time bashing their skulls in."

"Really? I was kinda thinking one could easily stab someone with that point just after deflecting a blow."

"Hehe, I never thought of that!"

"... you're messing with me, aren't you."

"Clever boy! Maybe there is hope for you yet, eh?"

##

Sometimes, the best defense is a good offense. And being able to poke your foe both with a sword and a pointy bit on your shield sure helps getting rid of him. The trick is in the coordination. Doesn't really help you if you stab someone with your shield spike and then get run through yourself because you left an opening. Fortunately for Bren, he picked up on the trick fast.

Turned out he was a fair archer too. So he was given some plunder privileges and got himself a nice bow. His own arsenal had originally consisted of some (pre-owned) leather armour, a wooden shield and a short sword. Since then he had upgraded to a long sword and a metal shield. With a nasty spike on the boss. His chain shirt used to belong to a soldier who no longer had a use for it. A short bow and quiver added some ranged capabilities. And a bunch of knives completed the set. You never can have enough knives after all. 

##

"I want to join the cavalry."

"Do you now. And why would I want to assign you a place in the cavalry, if I may ask?"

"Because I'm qualified. I can ride. I can use a spear and a long spear in formation. A lance isn't anything but a spear for a mounted fighter. And if it comes to skirmishing, I am a fair shot with a bow. And I already got one of my own."

"Heh. But horses don't grow on trees you know..."

"I saved up."

"Really? You can afford your own horse now, can you."

"I was hoping to get a discount if we next wipe out some opposing cavalry."

"Really. You volunteering for front line then? Heh, that can be arranged."

Of course, joining the cavalry unit means: No more slogging through the mud yourself, better pay, better chances for survival even. Easier to disengage form a battle going south on horseback after all. But yes, they don't just give anybody a horse just for asking nicely. So Bren took a chance, volunteered for front line duty. 

After all, he really could ride. 

Then the fateful day came where his mercenary company finally met it's doom. It really was supposed to be a rearguard duty. Unfortunately the enemy had other ides and decided to raid the etappe. Long story short: When it became clear that the battle was going really, really bad, Bren disengaged, hid, dragged the corpse of an opposing soldier behind some cover and put on his tabard. Chancing upon a de-ridered horse, he swung himself into the saddle and bugged out. 

Luck was with him that day.

Nowadays? 

There is always work for a mercenary. Of course, a lone merc can not really do much by himself. But sometimes people juts need a sellsword to the things the authorities can't be bothered to deal with. Sometimes the law can not quench the thirst for revenge when blood was spilled and a duel is called for. Then people are willing to pay good money for a champion to fight in their steed.

And sometimes you just put your skills to use because, well, sometimes we want to feel good about ourselves eh?

Like that one time...

Bren didn't know what the man had done to get on the bad side of the three thugs who mercilessly pummeled him, right in the middle of the road no less. What he did know, however, was that none of the bystanders had the guts to get involved. And that the small boy standing on the side, crying, probably was the guy's son.

(... I really ought to know better the to get involved. But... damn it...)

Still holding on to the apple ha had just bought from the market stall up the road, Bren approached the fight and walked up to the boy.

(Come on, come on.. ask already...) 

The boy noticed Bren and cried out for help.

"Mister, please, you have to help my dad! They are beating up my dad, please help him."

It took Bren some self discipline to keep a stony face "Sorry kiddo, I'm a mercenary, I don't fight unless I'm getting paid for it." (Come on, offer me something, anything...)

"But but... " the boy dug into his pockets, producing some tiny knicknacks that little boys tend to have, and a single copper piece. Which he held up for Bren ".. that is all I have... "

Bren looked down on the copper piece with a frown (Thank you gods.)

"Hm. Oh it's okay, I've got change."

Bren took the coin from the boy and gave him his apple. It would just get in the way in a fight anyway.

Then he waltzed up to the 'fight' in progress and grabbed the shoulders of the first thug, hauling him bodily away and giving him a broken nose with a punch from his gauntlet for his troubles. 

The other two thugs were still so busy beating up their victim that they didn't even notice Bren until one of them flew back on his behind after a hard kick. The last thug looked up, only to be greeted by the sight of an incoming gauntlet.

When they got their bearings again, one of them (probably the boss) called out "What the hell do you think you are doing!? This is none of your business!"

"Wrong. I'm being paid to break up this fight. Now, do you bugger off or do I have to run you through?" Bren replied while casually drawing his sword.

The thugs apparently didn't want to get run through and ran off. Bren didn't stay around much longer. Now that the actual threat had disappeared down the road, some people actually had the guts to help the man back to his feet. Someone even called out for a medicus.

(Heh, sometimes I even like my job..) Bren thought as he walked on.

###

Bren keeps drifting around, always looking for small work to keep his purse filled. +

Eventually his way led him to the village of Rawee.

Bren had heard of the place before, many races living together in (relative) peace. 

Yeah, right. But then again, strange things happen. One guy even claimed he once saw a horse puke. Maybe check this place out.

And so, one day, Bren rode into Rawee, climbed off his horse in front of what he though to be the mayor's place and entered the building to sell his services.

"Morning Mr., so you are the mayor of this place? Great, I am Bren Blackshield, free lancer and military consultant for hire. You have trouble? I'll shoot it for you. For a nominal fee of course. Need some levies trained? I can do that too. Looking for a scout? You are looking right at him. 

What's that? Peaceful city? Well Sir, that's mighty good for ya all, no offense, but we want to keep it that way, eh? Just you think, takes but one troublemaker to break the peace. Best if you have someone available to break the troublemaker instead.

Haha, of course not mayor, I'm just a mercenary, I get paid to keep things quiet. Besides, when the life of a merc gets exciting, it might be over pretty fast too, so its in my own best interest to keep the peace, see?

Sure your Honour, I'm well versed in the arts of warfare, seen more then my share of battles too. And no enemy never, ever killed me in the line of my duty, on my word! 

Indeed governor, I should call myself lucky to serve to uphold the peace in such a fine community as yours. All I have to ask is that you provide for my poor Reginald too. 

Reginald? Why, he's my trusty charger your Highness, carried me into quite a few battles and out of them as well. Owe him my life more then once you know. Can't do without having him fed and stabled properly. It's just a matter of fairness you see?

That would be great your Excellency, I'd be most honoured. So when should I start? Right away you say? Well then, what would you have me do?

Report to the sheriff and aid him in all matters? I'm right on it your majesty, you will not be disappointed."


And so Bren got himself hired as a deputy to the local sheriff. Which served him just fine. A quiet job with just occasional bouts of violence to quell. Mostly the troublemakers are soldiers from the central powers. Think they are special because they wear an uniform. Oh well. Nothing a gauntlet to the face can't take care off.