Cleethorpe Giff Far Traveler Horizon Walker Ranger

[RagallachMC]

Cleethorpe

Interstellar, Plane-Hopping, Monster Hunting Ranger

 

 

Ranger 5

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Medium humanoid (Giff) Male, Chaotic Good

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Armor Class 16

Hit Points 44
Speed 30' ft.

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Senses Perception 16, Investigation 13, Insight 16

Languages Common, Deep Speech, Elvish, Gith

Proficiency Bonus +3

 

ABILITIES & SKILLS
Proficiency Bonus: +3

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Strength 8 (-1)(A)
Save +2
Athletics +2(A)

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Dexterity 18 (+4) 
Save +7
Acrobatics +4 | Sleight of Hand +4 | Stealth +7

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Constitution 14 (+2)
Save +2
No skills associated.

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Intelligence 10 (+0)
Save +0
Arcana +0 | History +0 | Investigation +3 | Nature +3 | Religion +0

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Wisdom 16 (+3)
Save +3
Animal Handling +3 | Insight +6 | Medicine +3 | Perception +6 | Survival +3

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Charisma 8 (-1) 
Save -1
Deception -1 | Intimidation -1 | Performance -1 | Persuasion -1

* (E) denotes expertise. / Bold denotes proficiency. (A) denotes advantage

 

PROFICIENCIES & ABILITIES

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PROFICIENCIES

• Tools: Thieves' Tools, Tinker's Tools
• Instruments: Birdpipes
• Weapons: All Simple, All Martial, Firearms
• Armors: Light, Medium, Shields
• Languages: Common, Deep Speech, Elven, Gith

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RANGER FEATURES

Favored Enemy(Aberrations), Natural Explorer(Mountains), Fighting Style(Archery), Spellcasting(Ranger), Ranger Archetype(Horizon Walker), Primeval Awareness, Horizon Walker Magic, Detect Portal, Planar Warrior, Extra Attack

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RACIAL TRAITS

Ability Score Increase (Dex +2, Wis +1), Swimming Speed 30', Astral Spark, Firearms Mastery, Hippo Build

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FEATS

Skilled (Thieves' Tools, Tinker's Tools, Investigation), Gunner

 

WEAPONS

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WEAPONS

Musket +1  +10 to hit, 1d12+5 Piercing dmg, 40/120 range, Ammunition (Firearms), Range, Loading, Two-Handed

Longbow +9 to hit, 1d8+4 Piercing dmg, 150/160 range, Ammunition, Heavy, Range, Two-Handed

Short Sword +2 to hit, 1d6+4 Piercing damage, Finesse, Light

Warhammer +2 to hit, 1d8-1/1d10-1 Bludgeoning dmg, Martial, Versatile

 

 

EQUIPMENT & ENCUMBERANCE

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TOTAL ENCUMBERANCE ()

• Weight: 71 lbs. / 160lbs. max. (20 x STR Score)
• Status: Unencumbered
• Penalty: None

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MONEY POUCH (6.7 lbs.)

Copper:  | Silver:  | Gold: 315  | Obsidian:  | Platinum: 20

(0 Coins x .02 lbs. = 0 lbs. Total Weight)

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EQUIPEMENT READIED

• Musket +1
• Short Sword x2
• Longbow
• Warhammer
• Ammunition x20
• Arrows x20

 

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EQUIPMENT STORED

Stored items can be retrieved with an action.

• In Backpack
• Birdpipes
• Rope, 50'
• Grappling Hook
• Thieves' Tools
• Mess Kit
• Rations x10
• Tinderbox
• Torch x10
• Ammunition x80
• Strapped to Backpack
• Tinker's Tools
• Bedroll
• Waterskin

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EQUIPMENT NOT CARRIED (--)

• At Home 
•  

* Denotes magic item (see below)

 

 

 

SPELLS

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SPELL SLOTS: 1st 4  2nd 2

• Ranger - Spell Save DC: 14 | Spell Attack Mod: +6 | Spell level: 2nd

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1st LEVEL

Absorb Elements, Ensnaring Strike, Hunter's Mark, Protection From Evil & Good

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2nd LEVEL

Pass Without Trace, Misty Step

 

MAGIC ITEMS

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NON-ATTUNED

Musket +1

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ATTUNED

 

 

APPEARANCE

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Age  26 | Height  6'4" (1.9m) | Weight 750 lbs | Hair  None | Eyes  Brown | Complexion Grey and Rubbery

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BACKGROUND

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Far Traveler
 

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Background Feature: 

- All Eyes on You - Your accent, mannerisms, figures of speech, and perhaps even your appearance all mark you as foreign. Curious glances are directed your way wherever you go, which can be a nuisance, but you also gain the friendly interest of scholars and others intrigued by far-off lands, to say nothing of everyday folk who are eager to hear stories of your homeland.

You can parley this attention into access to people and places you might not otherwise have, for you and your traveling companions. Noble lords, scholars, and merchant princes, to name a few, might be interested in hearing about your distant homeland and people.

Edited April 25 by RagallachMC (see edit history)

[RagallachMC]

Backstory

The giff who would be known as Cleethorpe was born into slavery on a Neogi barge in Wildspace. Separated from his mother and placed with other young slaves, he was 'raised' in a 'creche' until he was old enough to be sold. Malnourished, mistreated and beaten, the young giff did not grow up big and strong like most giff. When he was 7-8 years old, he was sold for the first time and spent the next 10 years working hard labor for various masters. Eventually he was sold to a Gray Slaad called Karmaad and taken to his stronghold on Limbo. Karmaad was an assassin and used the slaves he bought to track and eliminate his targets. The young giff was trained by his fellow slaves in a variety of skills: tracking, stealth, subterfuge and combat. The slaad and his slaves travelled throughout the planes eliminating targets for Karmaad's master a Death Slaad known as Sapolbo. While these duties were better than hard labor it was still slavery, and Karmaad was a capricious master. The slaad would beat, kill or reward the slaves with little to no regard to reason or pattern. He also used various forms of magic to keep the slaves in line and to prevent escape.

They were hunting a Solar on the Outer Plane of Arborea when the giff finally achieved his freedom. Karmaad and his team of slave hunters were ambushed by the Solar and a horde of Planetars and mortals. In the confusion, he was able to escape. He ran and hid for many days, sure that the Slaad would materialize and take him back. But he never did. The mountains of Arvandor were strange and confusing, as were the emotions he felt and the dreams he had there. In one of those dreams he was at a gathering of giff, a great banquet. He laughed and ate and drank, all strange feelings to him. a female giff sat next to him and asked, "What will you do now Cleethorpe? What's next?" "Cleethorpe?", he said, a strong emotion that he couldn't identify overwhelming him. "That is your name, young one. It was taken from you when you were taken from your family. I ask again: "What's next, Cleethorpe?" Before he could answer, he awoke with tears streaming down his face. For the first time in his life, he knew his name and he knew that he was free.

Using all the skills and knowledge that he had learned from Karmaad and the other slaves over the years, Cleethorpe was able to survive his long journey from the Outer Planes back to the Material Plane. Along the way, he has used his skills to bring down those who would enslave others. Currently, He is in the city of Baldur's Gate on Toril. He's heard tale of a recent problem with an Illithid vessel and he hopes he can catch a ship and get back to Wildspace.

 

Personality

Cruel slavery and servitude has left it's mark on Cleethorpe. He's wary of most people and prefers to keep his own company. He is kind, and generous with those who are suffering and has no tolerance for bullies or those who would impose their will over others. He values freedom above all else because he knows how easily it can be taken away and he will do everything in his power to end those who partake in slavery. All that being said, he is not grim or taciturn. He enjoys a good laugh, a good song, a good meal and the companionship of those who share his values.

 

Appearance

While he might look large and imposing to most races, for a giff he's rather small and weak. His skin has the greyish-purple tone and rubbery texture of other giff. He also has a series of scars that cover his back, legs and arms from being whipped over the years. He wears a set of leather armor, studded with a dark black metal, dark green cloak and sturdy black boots. When out in the field, he's festooned with a series of weapons strapped all over his body. His prized possession is a long musket of blued steel and dark wood.

[Cointhief]

Cool character, glad someone picked a giff. The build looks pretty strong. Optional, but a bit of dialogue in his voice would be nice.

Thanks for the tag, Ill do a crunch dive soon.

[RagallachMC]

On 4/12/2024 at 11:57 PM, Cointhief said:

Cool character, glad someone picked a giff. The build looks pretty strong. Optional, but a bit of dialogue in his voice would be nice.

Thanks for the tag, Ill do a crunch dive soon.

I'll get something posted soon.

[RagallachMC]

Prologue 1: Stranger in a Strange Land

The rain which had been falling incessantly for the past 4 days was now coming down in hard, cold sheets. A flash of lightning in the distance was quickly followed by a strong clap of thunder. Cleethorpe remained crouched, watching the edge of the forest with rain streaming from the edge of his cloak and onto his snout. The rain was annoying, and keeping his powder and strings dry was a challenge in all this wet, but this dark forest and the rain was much preferable to the forest he had been in before arriving here. He had been lucky to escape that place alive.

  He continued crouching under a tall, dark tree and watching the forest's edge. He had left the ruins of the ancient city 4 days ago. The city was large, but it appeared to Cleethorpe to have been abandoned for many hundreds of years. He had found some stone carvings that looked Elven to him, but no other clues as to why it was abandoned. Perhaps the portal that he had used was the reason. It was a dark and brutal place on the other side of that portal. Maybe the denizens of that place had tired of hunting there and had come here to hunt. He didn't know, but the abandoned city didn't feel good to him and he moved on quickly. He found some small streams and began to follow them downstream to the North. The forest was dark and had an ominous feel, a feel that was not helped by the continuous rain. Over the four days of travel, he had bagged some smaller animals for meals and had seen the signs of larger animals. He had also seen the signs of some two-legged creatures, but none of those had crossed his path. Now he was on the northern edge of the forest and he could see that the land dipped down into a valley. He couldn't see it yet, but he was sure there was a large river in that valley. Large enough that there would be settlements and possibly a city.  Gathering up his pack and shaking the water from his cloak, Cleethorpe moved out from the edge of the forest and into the valley.

A mere ten minutes of walking brought the river into view. It was large as he had suspected and meandered through the green valley lazily. He could also see small farmsteads on the far side of the river. He was always amazed at how similar farms looked no matter where you were. He had seen farms on Elysium and Bytopia, farms in different spheres of wildspace, and they all looked the same. He noticed that there were no farms on this side of the river. 'Probably staying clear of those woods.', he thought glancing back at the dark smudge of the forest. He hastened his steps toward the river.

  He found a small rocky bank on the river and looked up into the sky. The rain was beginning to let up a bit, but the sky was still grey and cloudy. He tasted the water of the river and shook his large head in approval at it's clean taste. He filled his water bottle and then unlaced his boots and stepped into the shallows of the river. The Giff homeland was long gone, it's very location lost to history, but Cleethorpe imagined it had been covered in rivers like this one. He always felt a strange sense of peace when he could step into a river and feel its waters around his feet. He lingered for several minutes before putting his boots back on, shouldering his pack and following the river downstream.

Farmsteads and small settlements began to pop up on this side of the river after the first day of travel. Cleethorpe steered clear of them. They seemed to be mostly humans, but he did see some halflings at one farmstead. He avoided them not out of any sense of danger, but because he didn't wish to listen to a bunch of questions that he didn't have answers to. And the answers he did have would probably disturb the farmers. Best for both of them if Cleethorpe avoided them. He did fantasize about putting his feet up next to some farmer's fire with a pipe in one hand and a mug in the other, spinning tales of his adventures for the farmer and his family. But fantasize was all he did. Best to keep moving. After the fourth day of travel from the forest and eight days since he had set foot on this world, he found the city he had been seeking.

He could smell the sea long before he saw it, so it was no surprise when he crested a hill and looked out over a vast ocean. The river flowed down into that vast sea and a large walled city stood on the northern bank of the river, a large harbor filled with ships at the meeting place of city and water. He could see banners and flags blowing in the sea wind, but he couldn't make any out from this distance. He began moving westward, seeing a road and a bridge that would take him into the city.

 

 

Edited April 22 by RagallachMC (see edit history)

[RagallachMC]

Prologue 2: Port of Call

  Cleethorpe leaned back into the large, upholstered chair and sighed contently around the stem of his long pipe. A large mug of bitter ale and a leatherbound book lay on the table next to his chair, which was situated the perfect distance from the fireplace and the gentle fire that burned therein. The Blade and Stars had been highly recommended when Cleethorpe had asked around the harbor for a fine inn, and the recommendations had been on target. His room was well appointed and even had a bed large enough to hold him comfortably. This chair that he currently sat in, upholstered in a dark luxurious leather, was also sized up for someone of his proportions. The food was exquisite, the drinks delicious and the innkeeper and staff attended to his every need. The cost was not what one would call cheap, but it had been a long time since Cleethorpe had been able to avail himself of accommodations like this.

  Baldur's Gate was a large city. Very large. It was filled with a diverse mix of beings, all of which were going about whatever business had brought them to this city. Trade, it seemed for most of them. Traders and those who make their livings buying or selling to or from traders. Cleethorpe had made his way to the harbor first thing upon entering the city. The Gray Harbor they called it. He had made careful examination of the ships in harbor and had asked questions to people who seemed to know about what he wanted to know. He was looking for passage back into Wildspace, but there weren't any of those kinds of ships in harbor at the moment. They did all talk about how an Illithid vessel had wrecked havoc in the city and then crashed out in the countryside several months back. Good riddance, as far as Cleethorpe was concerned. Having no success finding a ship he began to ask about Inns close to the harbor, and that's what brought him to The Blade and Stars.

He had spent the next day sleeping soundly until well past noon and then spreading his equipment out and going through everything. The last few days of walking in the sun and the night next to his room's fire seemed to dry everything out nicely. He polished his swords, oiled the metal and buffed the wood on his musket Sureshot and mended a small hole on his cloak. He had a fantastic meal of roasted fish and bright ale and then returned to his room to sleep some more. He had awoken this morning and broken his fast with roast ham and the juice of a local fruit that was quite tart and refreshing. He then left the inn to explore the city some more.

He spent the day walking the streets, exploring markets and generally taking in the sights. He returned in the midafternoon and retired to one of the side rooms with the aforementioned chair, ale, pipe and book.

He was roused from his light doze by a loud, high pitched voice, "What are you then?"

Blinking rapidly, snorting and sitting up in the chair, Cleethorpe turned to find a small Gnome standing next to his chair. "I beg your pardon?", some outrage creeping into his voice.

"I meant no offense, sir. I've just never seen anybody that looks like you before and I've travelled extensively. Lantan, Calimshan, Amn, all over the Sword Coast. I've even been to Fort Beluarian in Chult!"

Cleethorpe didn't really know where any of those places were. "Yes, quite impressive. It doesn't give you cause to be rude and to interrupt my nap, however."

The gnome seems a bit taken aback, "I..I didn't mean to be rude, I was just curious! I'm sorry. I'll leave you be.", he turns back to the door to leave.

Cleethorpe feels a touch of guilt, "No, please, stay. I was just...caught off guard. Please, sit.", he says indicating one of the other chairs.

The gnome smiles and climbs up into a soft chair clearly meant for someone bigger then he. He folds his legs under him and leans into the chair.

"My name is Cleethorpe and I am a Giff. We are a well-traveled race, so it surprises me that one such as yourself hasn't run into one my kind before." He reaches for his pipe and tobacco pouch lying on the table next to him. He pinches a measure of tobacco into his pipe, tamps it down and uses one of the firesticks that the inn provided to light it. He draws a mouthful of smoke and blows it out with a sigh. "I didn't catch your name, did I?"

"No sir. I'm Sinxif Bafflebelt a trader from the island of Lantan. Dealing in all manner of wondrous items from the famous artisans of Lantan." The gnome produces his own pipe from one of the many pouches hanging on his body. A silver pipe with a triple layered bowl and intricately engraved. He's soon puffing away as well. "Is this your first time in Baldur's Gate?"

"It is. A fine city, I might add. Trade here seems to be good.

"Oh, it is. My goods are always well received here, and the city produces fine timber that our artisans need. A win-win. You don't look like a man of trade though, again no offense intended."

Cleethorpe smiles, "No, just passing through. On my way to other places."

"Anywhere in particular? Or are you the adventuring type that just goes where the wind takes you."

"You've hit the target, sir. I don't have a definitive destination in mind. Just a direction."

The gnome nods, and then they sit in silence for a bit enjoying their pipes and the warmth of the room.

"Well, Master Cleethorpe, it was good to meet you. I have manifests to examine and a ship to tend to. Perhaps we will cross paths again.", the gnome climbs down from his chair and offers his small hand to the giff.

"Indeed, Master Bafflebelt. Safe travels to you.", he says as he gently grips the small gnome's hand and shakes. The gnome quickly exits the room.

Cleethorpe finishes his pipe in silence, tamps it out into a small ashtray, and settles back into the chair to continue his nap.

 

Edited April 25 by RagallachMC (see edit history)