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Blackeyed Billie - Daughter of Slaughter


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Wilhelmina Zenar'Inan

Blackeye Billie, Shadow of Qalo, Daughter of Slaughter




"If you can't protect it, is it really yours?"


Fighter 3

Medium humanoid female (Shadar Kai), Chaotic neutral

Armor Class 16

Hit Points 35 ( 3d10 + 9 )
Speed 30 ft.

Senses darkvision 60ft, passive perception 13.

Languages common, elven

Proficiency Bonus +2



Proficiency Bonus: +2

Strength 18 (+4)
Save +6
Athletics +6

Dexterity 14 (+2) 
Save +2 
Acrobatics +4 | Sleight of Hand +2 | Stealth +2

Constitution 16 (+3)
Save +5
No skills associated.

Intelligence 12 (+1)
Save +1
Arcana +1 | History +1 | Investigation +1 | Nature +1 | Religion +1

Wisdom 12 (+1)
Save +1 
Animal Handling +1 | Insight +1 | Medicine +1 | Perception +3 | Survival +3

Charisma 13 (+1) 
Save +1 
Deception +1 | Intimidation +3 | Performance +1 | Persuasion +1

Bold denotes proficiency.



  • Tools Vehicles (Land), Navigators tools*, Playing cards
  • Instruments Viol*
  • Weapons Simple Weapons, Martial Weapons
  • Armors Light and Medium Armour, Shields

Fighting StyleUnarmed Fighting. Your unarmed strikes can deal bludgeoning damage equal to 1d6 + your Strength modifier on a hit. If you aren't wielding any weapons or a shield when you make the attack roll, the d6 becomes a d8.
At the start of each of your turns, you can deal 1d4 bludgeoning damage to one creature grappled by you.
 | Action SurgeStarting at 2nd level, you can push yourself beyond your normal limits for a moment. On your turn, you can take one additional action.

Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again. Starting at 17th level, you can use it twice before a rest, but only once on the same turn.
 | Second WindYou have a limited well of stamina that you can draw on to protect yourself from harm. On your turn, you can use a bonus action to regain hit points equal to 1d10 + your fighter level.

Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again.
 | Manifest EchoAt 3rd level, you can use a bonus action to magically manifest an echo of yourself in an unoccupied space you can see within 15 feet of you. This echo is a magical, translucent, gray image of you that lasts until it is destroyed, until you dismiss it as a bonus action, until you manifest another echo, or until you're incapacitated.

Your echo has AC 14 + your proficiency bonus, 1 hit point, and immunity to all conditions. If it has to make a saving throw, it uses your saving throw bonus for the roll. It is the same size as you, and it occupies its space. On your turn, you can mentally command the echo to move up to 30 feet in any direction (no action required). If your echo is ever more than 30 feet from you at the end of your turn, it is destroyed.

As a bonus action, you can teleport, magically swapping places with your echo at a cost of 15 feet of your movement, regardless of the distance between the two of you.
When you take the Attack action on your turn, any attack you make with that action can originate from your space or the echo's space. You make this choice for each attack.
When a creature that you can see within 5 feet of your echo moves at least 5 feet away from it, you can use your reaction to make an opportunity attack against that creature as if you were in the echo's space.
 | Unleash IncarnationUnleash Incarnation
At 3rd level, you can heighten your echo's fury. Whenever you take the Attack action, you can make one additional melee attack from the echo's position.

You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Constitution modifier (a minimum of once). You regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

DarkvisionYou can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You discern colors in that darkness only as shades of gray. | Keen SensesYou have proficiency in the Perception skill. | Fey AncestryFey Ancestry. You have advantage on saving throws you make to avoid or end the charmed condition on yourself. | TranceTrance. You don’t need to sleep, and magic can’t put you to sleep. You can finish a long rest in 4 hours if you spend those hours in a trancelike meditation, during which you retain consciousness.

Whenever you finish this trance, you can gain two proficiencies that you don’t have, each one with a weapon or a tool of your choice selected from the Player’s Handbook. You mystically acquire these proficiencies by drawing them from shared elven memory, and you retain them until you finish your next long rest.
 | Blessing of the Raven QueenBlessing of the Raven Queen. As a bonus action, you can magically teleport up to 30 feet to an unoccupied space you can see. You can use this trait a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

Starting at 3rd level, you also gain resistance to all damage when you teleport using this trait. The resistance lasts until the start of your next turn. During that time, you appear ghostly and translucent.
| Necrotic ResistanceYou have resistance to necrotic damage

Supernatural Gift

Unscarred ResilianceWhen you take damage, as a reaction roll a d12 add your constitution modifier and reduce the damage by this much. You cannot use again until you finish a short or long rest


* Denotes Proficiencies Chosen by Trance



  • Greatsword +6 to hit, for 2d6+4 Slashing Damage
  • Unarmed Strike +6 to hit for 1d6+4If you aren't wielding any weapons or a shield when you make the attack roll, the d6 becomes a d8.

    At the start of each of your turns, you can deal 1d4 bludgeoning damage to one creature grappled by you.
     Bludgeoning damage
  • Handaxe +6 to hit for 1d6+4 Slashing Damage, Light, Thrown (20/60)
  • Longbow +4 to hit for 1d8+2 Piercing Damage




  • Weight: 122.54 lbs. / 270 lbs. max. (15 x STR Score)
  • Status: Unencumbered
  • Penalty: None

MONEY POUCH (3.58 lbs.)

Copper: 5 | Silver: 166 | Gold: 1 (hidden)

(179 Coins x .02 lbs. = 3.58 lbs. Total Weight)


Equipped items can be retrieved with a manipulate item interaction.

  • Armor (49 lbs.) Uniform/Traveler's Cloths 4 lbs | Cast-off Chain(Scale) - 45 lbs.
  • Weapons (13 lbs.) Greatsword Vigil - 6 lbs. | Dagger - 1 lb. | Handaxe (x2) - 4 lbs. | Longbow - 2 lbs.  
  • Readied Items (1 lbs.) Quiver of arrows 1 lb. | an insignia of your rank (Wolf medallion) | Pouch with 272.5sp


Stored items can be retrieved with an action.

  • In Backpack 5 lbs (27 lbs.)  Mess kit 1 lb | Tinderbox 1 lb | Torches (x10) 10 lbs | Day's Rations (x10) 10 lbs | Playing Card Set - lb |    
  • Strapped to Backpack (17 lbs.) Bedroll 2 lbs | Waterskin - 5 lbs. | 50ft Hemp Rope - 10 lbs. 


  • At Home Teddy bear with one loose button eye, a set of pajamas with nightcap 





Cast-off Scale mail


Greatsword of Warning (Vigil)



Age Twentyish | Height 5' 8" | Weight 126 lbs. | Hair Silver Blonde | Eyes Blue-Green | Complexion Fair

Turquoise eyes pierce the dark make-up around her eyes and the wayward strands of silver hair that have come loose from the tied mass during the action.  Her lips, shapely as they were still crooked into a half smile and despite the blood trickling down from the freshly formed split, she was enjoying herself.  She pushed back her sleeves revealing the twin chain tattoos on her wrists, then the wolf-head pendant swung backwards on its neck chain as she charged forward with a shout.  Swinging her longsword wildly, she let the impetus carry her with it, spinning and crouching before thundering upwards to block the oncoming strike with enough force to send her adversary staggering back onto their heels.  She pressed on in a torrent, hammering his shield and sword savagely.

In a planned battle, she'd have been wearing chain or scale armor, or something more than a white canvas tunic with a much too wide neck and barely kept together with small bit of cord.  Though a wide and thick slab of leather was cinched together around her guts and hips to keep her innards in tact, with another two thick cuts buckled around her biceps.  She knew where every bit of reinforcement was, and every bit wasn't, and took advantage of it all.  Her studded leather pants and high subtle leather boots, hugged the curves of her calves and thighs, and it seemed she even used the tension gathered in those as she coiled and uncoiled like whip.    

Her opponent was many years her senior however, and blocked with his shield, then the pommel of his sword struck her with force and she fell hard.  Gritting her teeth she reached for her sword to go again, but found steel under her chin and she laughed.  It was a good match... a gauntleted fist took her temple and the world went black.



Mercenary Veteran/Custom
Source Custom

  • Personality Traits: I love competition and have a story for almost every occasion
  • Ideals: Daring. The richest bounty goes to those who risk everything. (Chaotic)
  • Bonds: I've been blessed with power beyond my understanding, it is my obligation to make the most of it
  • Flaws: I can be too eager to fight, and when bored will look for one.

Background Feature: You know the mercenary life as only someone who has experienced it can. You are able to identify mercenary companies by their emblems, and you know a little about any such company, including the names and reputations of its commanders and leaders, and who has hired them recently. You can find the taverns and festhalls where mercenaries abide in any area, as long as you speak the language. You can find mercenary work between adventures sufficient to maintain a comfortable lifestyle.

  • Quirks: Plays with dagger regularly, makes themselves comfortable wherever they are
  • Goals: To Fight a God! ...everything else is working up to that.
  • Likes: Fighting, weapons, food, drink, carousing, drawing, life!
  • Dislikes: Reading, lectures, nagging, bland food
  • Hobbies: Fighting, drawing, exploring, chatting
  • Scent: Road dust, beer/wine, fragrant powder(talc, rose, jasmine, iris) 



Frey, Grehesian, 483 AC

The streets of Frey were redolent with the stale smell of manure and acrid scent of steel as if the city itself was permeated with shit and war.  In the cramped labyrinthine design of the fortress city, the small moved quick and on their toes less they be trampled or beaten.  A small slippered foot skidded in the scat, sliding around a corner as she raced her friends to her statue of Qalo.  She called it her statue because every day she raced to him and every day she could she challenged someone at his feet.  She was only eight and her silver hair was oft laid out in the dirt at these vary same feet... but not every time.  Blackeye Billie as she was dubbed for this cause, both for the black eyes she took and the blackeyes she gave.  It was impressive what a wallop those tiny hands could do, but the menfolk would laugh and say it was because they were so small the force was concentrated all the better.  Billie would follow them in their laughter, maybe spitting out some blood or another tooth.  It's quite probably that she'd never lost any of her first teeth without there being some forceful collision involved.  

As she grew she did indeed get strong, she practiced the forms she saw in the drills and adapted them as best she could.  They kept trying to give her a sword to fit her, but she would always take one just a bit bigger, grinning wide.  "If I don't push my limits how will I get better?"  Her style was derived from this, it wasn't so much that she swung the sword, or even as they tried to teach her to have it an extension of one's hand, no... no... it was more like she became the bloody thing and it flew around with her attached.  All her movements simply became a facet of adding to momentum, and if her blade somehow was stopped, without missing a beat her body would carry that impetus like a battering ram.  Momentum seemed to characterize most of her life and actions, and there were few who could slow it, much less stop it.  Her father could, though was rarely around, her uncle could, sometimes, maybe, if he bothered, and her sister.

When not out causing trouble she'd be lying around drawing in her journal.  As much as she hated writing, she loved picture books and her images certainly captured the imagination.  Mostly messes of blood and charcoal, they were supposedly scenes of practice forms or heroic battles, or terrifying monsters.  Sometimes the drawings were spawned from nightmares and dreams, othertimes from wishes and parables of old.  It was quite the collection and she cherished the dearly. 


Frey, Grehesian, 491 AC

By the age of fifteen, she was a weapon, carrying on her back a bastard sword made for a man half again as large.  Her eyes were blackened with makeup now, as she had leaned into her Blackeyed moniker, and it did well to cover up true blackeyes at her age to avoid her father's scorn.  In her free time she still hung out at the feet of Qalo awaiting challengers, though really, they were getting hard to come by, so she'd even lay wager to groups. Her silver to theirs, but they would have to pay one for each of them, at once or individually.  She didn't make much money that way, it wasn't the point.  The point was, sometimes she did... even if it was then spent on temple healing or a bard's song.  She loved the bard's songs, particularly the odes and stories they told, because she was going to be in them someday.  

As a first step to fame and prowess she joined the town guard, to look for dangers in the shadows of the Dim and destroy them, but for now the dark alleys of Frey would have to do.  It was little surprise that she was kicked out of the guard within a fortnight, not for simply abandoning her post to chase shadows, but for challenging the commanding officer with a punch in the face while he was admonishing her.  She was sentenced to the pillory for four hours.  It might have been assumed that her father would have tried to lighten her sentence, but when she saw him he shook his head, perhaps he too thought she could use some humbling or was just too disappointed to bother.

There no few people took the opportunity to give her a free smack.  Her uncle Eins simply sat nearby with his cane, drinking and laughing, every now and then asking "Are you going to take that?" Between sips from his flask.  His egging, just made her angrier and angrier, but then he started selling rotten fruits and eggs.  "Gotta make a silver somehow kid."  

"AHHHHHHH!" In a ball of rage she flash-stepped out of the pillory, fists raised to clobber her uncle.  Eins smiled, the skin around his eye and scarred socket curling,  she felt a sharp pain and then darkness.

She awoke in a cell, large masonry stone mildewy walls and dirt floor, a wall of corroded iron, and darkness.  Uncle Eins stood leaning against the far wall in shades of grey, and the silver haired teen snarled and rose but her hands and feet were manacled.  "Come on then child chain breaker, it's about time you come into your own."  She felt a smack and fell to her knees, there was something, she saw something from the corner of her eye, a shadow?  "Come on Billie Bratface, some street rat brat, can't even make it a week as a guard?" Slowly rising, she didn't know what to think.  Eins had always picked up for her, always encouraged her, was he this disappointed because she'd failed as a guard.  There was another staggering smack, she didn't know from where, he still hadn't moved.  The young fighter remembered so many times teasing him, taking his false leg and running off, him hopping after her, and somehow catching her.  It was rare to look around and not find him watching, from somewhere.  "Lost your temper at a commander, couldn't even give him a proper smack and got your arse paddled in the pillory, boo-boo bratty blackface Billay."  She was confused now, he didn't care that she'd hit him?  There was another smack but this one didn't phase her at all.  His grin widened. "There you are!" She blinked and in slow motion saw his flask falling to the ground in the vacant space across the room, instinctively she knew that above her was his cane coming down full force, and she flashed.  Time and reality shifted as she appeared on the other side of the room, catching her balance just as Eins' cane hit the stone with a loud crack that sent a shiver down her spine.

He tossed her a wooden sword. "I made them a deal, if you can hit me, you get out.  Not before.  You think you can challenge a commander kid?  Your father had to call in some serious favours to lessen your sentence to the pillory.  You think insubordination in the ranks is tolerated at all?!  You're lucky you're not dead..."  She'd not fought him since she was a little kid, at ten he'd always let her win, saying "We shouldn't, someone with such a handicap might get themselves hurt..." She never considered he was talking about her!  Charging he sidestepped and parried, his prosthetic was seemingly no hinderance, or at least his skill more than compensated for it.  Fighting with all her might, all her youthful vigor, all her soul, she got closer and closer then... she'd strike nothing, he'd vanish, then swagger a few steps on the other side of the cell with tap of his cane on his shoulder and an exagerated yawn.  Eventually she collapsed from exhaustion.  This went on for days, she spat that the light wooden sword hindered her style, so he tossed her a great one and drew his own.  It made no difference, she'd whirl in the darkness, .  Two whirling blades in the darkness, illuminated only by the sparks from colliding steel, the only sounds the clang of steel, fast footwork, and grunts of exertion.  

Time was starting to get blurry, there was no light, nothing to tell day from night.  She slept exhausted and awoke to fight until she collapsed again.  The days bled together, was it weeks now?  When she awoke there was food waiting beside her, but she learned quickly not to eat it all at once.  Overexertion when stuffed was not conducive to peak performance.   She fought on though, mirroring Eins' movements, the spinning flurry and momentum, listening to his footfalls, his breath.  It was then she realized that there wasn't always any, breath nor footfalls, not even the smell of sweat, or booze or anything.  Sometimes his feet did not touch the ground, sometimes his chest did not rise or fall, and he seemed but a shadow in the dark and she froze... finally cluing in to something: how could there be a shadow in the dark?  How many times had she thought she had him for her blade to pass through nothing and him to appear elsewhere?

She stopped, and tried to go on the defensive, taking the time to find out where the real Eins was, then she charged, taking a blow from the shadow Eins she didn't care, she cut the ground and scooped up a handful of dirt, then tossed it in a spray.  It only pattered his armor, but it met the victory condition.  "Gotcha."  Hunched over, she only kept herself standing by leaning on her sword and she gave him a triumphant smile.  "Took you long enough" was his answer, "You always were a stubborn one... what do you think."  There was movement outside the bars.  "She's as good as you were at her age, though just as reckless.  Try to keep her in one piece Eins, but she'll do... she'll do..."  The man tossed something in the cell at Billie's feet. 

"You how useless it is to chase shadows now kid?  Your job was to hit me, that was it, but you were so caught up in fighting that you couldn't see past the length of your sword.  You were even fed, given your weapon of choice, and the condition was hit, not defeat.  Don't think yourself too special, but you can join the Shadow Wolves." He picked up the chained pendant at her feet, and put it over he head.  It was the near twin of the one she always admired around Eins' neck, though hers wasn't silver and didn't have ruby eyes, just dark steel.  She looked at it, then up at him with misty eyes. "You're a jackass Uncle Einsy".  He put his arm around her, lifting her to her feet and leading her out of the dungeon... "I know Bean, I know."


Frey, Grehesian, 493 AC

The next few years of Billie's life were far from easy, but they were stabby yet satisfying.  The Shadow Wolves were and are a mercenary group devoted to the unending battle against the shadow.  They take their name from the eternal battle between Qalo and the soul of Nystus in the Dim.  As Wrath fights his unending battle in the shadows, so do the Shadow Wolves fight ceaselessly to prove their mettle and receive their blessings.  The blessing being a manifestation of their own wrath, an echo from the Dim.

Some go mad during the ritual, some experience no affect at all, but having one's wrath manifest fully, then having to conquer and subdue it, is an experience that pays a toll on one's soul.  If not for her sister, Billie may not have made it through, but Lula's presence during their trials and tribulations made for a sound resting place from where she could grow.

It wasn't long after receiving her blessing that the nightmares started, not just for her, but for her sister as well.  Incidents as they were, fate seemed to draw them from the northern shores of the Grehesian Empire back towards Baromenes.  Billie couldn't help but wonder if maybe they may find word of their mother there, while all had given her up for dead, whether through childish delusion or hopeful faith, Billie believed her mother was a captive somewhere in Halaea, likely a slave.  She was not foolish though, she knew the chance was slim, but she would keep her eyes open just in case.




Krysanthia Zenar'Inan: Her mother was a warrior mage, the bravest and best warrior of almost all time! Captured by the Krud-toes(Krontos) as she sacrificed herself so her countrymen could make it to safety.  She faced down dozens, or hundreds or giants! Laying waste to the countryside for miles by raining fire, or lightning or rending the earth itself to swallow armies whole... this of course varied upon the rendition of the story she told and was aallll conjecture, it is currently unknown if she is alive and widely accepted that she is not.  All she really remembered for certain about her mother was her telling stories of the Neruians, the Vaitin and the parables of Nystus. 

Einstal Inan: Ana was beloved by many, none more than her brother Eins lost a leg and an eye in battles, but took his sister's loss worse than anything.  He currently "helps" raise the semi-orphaned girls, in payment for his board.  His own veteran's stipend he drinks away.  Apparently he was once known as the Crimson Shadow, but now he seems more like only a shadow of his former self.   Billie is rather attached to the madman, and he has always encouraged her rambunctiousness, to her he's Uncle Einsy, or Einsy, and she's Billy Bean, or just Bean.

Milhelm Zenar: Her father... he never seemed to've dealt with the loss of his wife seemed to almost vanish from their life at her passing.  Throwing himself into his work, Billie also saw him as a warrior.  A captain tall, stoic and resolute, though his weapon was now a quill and his army were of scribes.  He administered the bureaucratic hellscape of which true nightmare were made, with papers piled so high they could bury whole squadrons and their very essence consumed the soul, but in this place the very fates danced on strings of sand and ink.  His work seemed terrifying to Wilhelmina, a fate she would gladly die to avoid, but she respected him for it just the same.  In Billie's mind she was the daughter of mighty heroes, each with their own special power, and all second to only Qalo himself, but she... she was going to be stronger still!

Lulani Zenar'InanThey are twins but are not identical.  Wilhemina was the object in motion that wished to stay in motion, her sister was the object at rest that wished to remain so.  Easy going and up for a challenge, friendly and beautiful, they spent very much of their time together.  They enjoyed much the same things, but in different ways.  


repeat(drop(4d6,lowest),6) 6,3,6,4,4,3,6,2,3,2,5,4,6,1,2,4,6,4,3,5,5,1,6,3
Did I do that right?
repeat(drop(reroll(4d6,1,below),lowest),6) 1,1,6,6,6,1,6,3,3,4,3,2,4,1,5,2,3,4,5,3,6,1,2,3,3,6,6,3,1,3
1d9 6
2d8 6,2
2d10 6,10
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Wilhelmina Zenar'InanShadar Kai Echo Knight Fighter  ZJDL4tU.png.08985004bfb433b23868467c528a2f82.png

AC: 16 | HP: 35/35 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13

Post goes here.


thoughts in italics



Main Hand: Greatsword
Off Hand: Empty

Action 1: Your action goes here.
Action 2: Your action goes here.
Action 3: Your action goes here.





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As a Mercenary Veteran, is it possible to've been a member of one of the established factions, such as the Lost Souls? Or should/can we make up our own? Are there more details on these factions or can we flesh them out ourselves?

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1 hour ago, Rumrunner said:

As a Mercenary Veteran, is it possible to've been a member of one of the established factions, such as the Lost Souls? Or should/can we make up our own? Are there more details on these factions or can we flesh them out ourselves?

Yes to all of the above, I'm still adding factions as of right now, but you are more than free to make up your own factions and we can work them into the world together, join one of the existing ones, I have another faction that I forgot to unhide that has to do with Qalo and they are a mercenary guild of ex-slaves and prisoners called The Unchained.

Edited by TheWordWeaver (see edit history)
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8 hours ago, Rumrunner said:

Who slaves? I mean are slaves common in particular states? 

Most of the original members were slaves of the Corruptor, a man who tried to conquer the lands of Grehesia and Halaea and was almost successful. Nowadays slaves are still commonplace in Halaea in states such as Kontos, Thespoe, and Monolithos and all throughout the Dwarven Khazian empire they are laborers, housekeepers, cleaners, etc.

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5 minutes ago, Rumrunner said:

Are you fine with refluffing races?  Like can Shadar-Kai, be fluffed as a human with distant Vaitin ancestors?

I would say that is fine and could explain the reason for different-looking Shadar-kai being related to the different Vaitan and how they look. The more human looking of the Vaitan are Inan and Redatel.

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45 minutes ago, Rumrunner said:


Magic items, will be taking the weapon of warning, and cast-off armor.
Regarding the armor, are the any restrictions on the type?  Like I assume I can't just take cast-off fullplate as common magic item.

Both are approved

for the armor, I would restrict it up to chainmail.

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3 hours ago, Rumrunner said:

K so I'm going to assume up to that dollar value, so scale on the med armor list.  Though gonna go with chain, because it matches my pic. 🙂

Yes sorry I should have been more precise but sounds good! Whenever Wilhelmina is ready for review let me know and I will take a gander!

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