Badmaw
Dhampir Lizardfolk Athlete Beast Barbarian
AC: 18 (Unarmoured Defense, Shield) | HP: 29/29 | Speed: 35 ft. climb, swim
Senses: Darkvision 60ft, Danger Sense, Passive Perception 12, Insight 10, Investigation 10
Str: 11 (+0) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 17 (+3) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 10 (+0) | Cha: 10 (+0)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Draconic, and Halfling
“My words,” Badmaw spits out in a raspy voice | ‘My thoughts,’ Badmaw thinks to himself | My actions . . .
SCARECROWS
"WHO'S THE ASSHAT THAT MADE THREE!?" The lizardman asks incredulously while throwing a net at the first scarecrow the group spotted. The net goes wide, and lands ineffectually on the ground behind the magical construct.
HORSE
Badmaw's investigation consists of him walking up to the horses in their stalls one by one, poking them, and asking "Hey, can you talk?" with an amused smile. When one horse finally answers him, his eyes go wide. "OH, Shoot! Mirt wasn't lying, there's a talking horse here!" He says, shocked.
DIRTY WORK
Badmaw was frustrated during his first meeting with the dungsweepers. He had hoped that whatever was attacking them would have been something he could track down easily, like gangsters. However, the only information the group had was it was some foul smelling sewer worm that had attacked them. The reptile took a brief look around the sewer entrances, but found no trail. 'They should just set these tunnels on fire.' He thought to himself. 'There's no end to the monsters in there.' And so with a resigned sigh, Badmaw settled in for 10 mornings of watching people sweep up excrement.
It wasn't all bad, though. From the second day onward, Badmaw had brought various snacks, and a deck of cards for the group to entertain themselves while they sat in Badmaw's cart. The mornings were now the designated picnic time while the dungsweepers toiled.
The entertainment, unfortunately, led Badmaw to let his guard down enough for the crawler to hit him before he could interpose his shield between himself and the tentacles. "GHHHK!" He yelps out as he collapses from the paralytic. "Se'er bastard.. got ne again..." He struggles to vocalize through clenched teeth as he writhes on the ground.
KNOCKING HEADS
"HEY!" Badmaw growls out toward what seems to be the leader of one of the groups, while pulling out his sword. "This is our street! So piss off, before I kick your balls to wherever your hair went, you bald prick!" The lizardman says, tense and ready to strike.