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Brigida Freeborn - Paladin/Sorcerer


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Brigida (Brig) Freeborn

Owner of the Freeborn Orphanage, Free Woman


"Sometimes you have to do dark things to bring about the light."



Medium humanoid female (half-orc), chaotic good

Armor Class 20

Hit Points 38 (2d10 + 3d6 + 8)
Speed 30 ft.

Senses darkvision, passive perception 10

Languages common, orc

Proficiency Bonus +3


Proficiency Bonus: +3

Strength 16 (+3)
Save +3 
Athletics +3

Dexterity 12 (+1) 
Save +1 
Acrobatics +1 | Sleight of Hand +1 | Stealth +1*

Constitution 12 (+1)
Save +1 
No skills associated.

Intelligence 11 (+0)
Save +0 
Arcana +0 | History +0 | Investigation +0 | Nature +0 | Religion +0

Wisdom 11 (+0)
Save +3 
Animal Handling +0 | Insight +3 | Medicine +0 | Perception +0 | Survival +0

Charisma 16 (+3) 
Save +6 
Deception +3 | Intimidation +6 | Performance +3 | Persuasion +6

* Denotes disadvantage due to heavy armor. / Bold denotes proficiency.




  • Weapons Simple & martial weapons 
  • Armors All armors and shields

Divine Sense | Lay on Hands | Fighting Style: Dueling | Divine Smite

Wild Magic Surge | Tides of Chaos | Quickened Spell | Twinned Spell

Darkvision | Relentless Endurance | Savage Attacks | Menacing





  • Battleaxe +6 to hit for (1d8+2) slashing damage. | Versatile (1d10)
  • +1 Shield +1 to AC
  • Javelin (x5) +6 to hit for (1d6+2) piercing damage. | Thrown (30/120)



SPELL SLOTS 4/4 (1st), 3/3 (2nd), 2/2 (3rd)

  • Paladin - Spell Save DC: 14 | Spell Attack Mod: +6 | Spells Prepared: 2
  • Sorcerer - Spell Save DC: 14 | Spell Attack Mod: +6 | Spells Prepared: 4 | Cantrips: 4 | Sorcery Points: 3
  • Masquerade Tattoo: Disguise Self

CANTRIPS (Paladin)


CANTRIPS (Sorcerer)

Green-Flame Blade | Fire Bolt | Booming Blade | Shocking Grasp | True Strike


Command | Detect Evil and Good (C)

FIRST LEVEL (Sorcerer)

Thunderwave | Witch Bolt (C)



THIRD LEVEL (Sorcerer)
Haste (C)

(C) Denotes concentration.




  • Weight: 147.2 lbs. / 240 lbs. max. (15 x STR Score)
  • Status: Unencumbered
  • Penalty: None

MONEY POUCH (5.2 lbs.)

Copper: 99 | Silver: 0 | Gold: 161 | Obsidian: 0 | Platinum: 0

(260 Coins x .02 lbs. = 5.2 lbs. Total Weight)


Equipped items can be retrieved with a manipulate item interaction.

  • Armor (66 lbs.) Splint Armor - 60 lbs. | +1 Shield* - 6 lbs.
  • Weapons (14 lbs.) Battleaxe - 4 lbs. | 5 Javelins - 10 lbs.
  • Readied Items (2 lbs.) Spell Component Pouch - 2 lbs.


Stored items can be retrieved with an action.

  • In Explorer's Pack (60 lbs.) Backpack - 5 lbs. | Bedroll - 7 lbs. | Mess Kit - 1 lbs. | Tinderbox - 1 lb. | 10 torches - 10 lbs. | 10 days of rations - 20 lbs. | Waterskin - 5 lbs. | 50 ft. Hempen Rope - 10 lbs. | Whetstone - 1 lb.


  • At Home A Set of Fine Clothes - 6 lbs. | A Set of Common Clothes - 3 lbs. | Music Box Trinket | (5) Sheets of Paper | Sealing Wax | Soap

* Denotes magic item (see below)




+1 Shield


+1 Masquerade Tattoo



Age 31 | Height 5' 7" | Weight 185 lbs. | Hair Deep Black | Eyes Emerald Green | Complexion Gray

Her armor clinked softly with each step, echoing through the empty hallway of Freeborn's Orphanage. The sharp smell of cleaning chemicals strengthened as she approached an open doorway. She entered the kitchen as the two boys were polishing the last of a pile of metal dishware. The boys looked up for just a moment before their eyes darted downward again. Even with that glance, however, she knew she'd made an impact. Her wards rarely saw her dressed in her splint armor, complete with battleaxe and javelins. Today, however, had called for it.

"Have you finished?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.

Silently, one of the boys handed her a metal pitcher. She held it up to her face. The once tarnished pitcher now reflected her visage: tumbling waves of thick black hair, a red-lipped mouth just barely revealing two worn-down tusks, skin the color of ash, and vibrant emerald green eyes. She let the moment breathe, adjusting a lock of her hair. The boys shifted on their feet. One corner of her mouth tipped upward.

"Not bad," she murmured. She set the pitcher down and crossed her muscular arms over her chest. She leveled her intense gaze on both boys. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes ma'am," the boy on the left answered sheepishly. The other nodded.

She turned to the boy on the right. "And what would that be, Wylan?"

He raised his eyes to hers. Regret, but also a hint of defiance. Good.

Begrudgingly, he responded, "We respect others' things and treat them as if they are our own."

She nodded. "I know you boys are better than that. Show me how right I am."

They both looked at her now, humbled but relieved. She knew that feeling. Even when you're an orphan, you still want your guardian's approval.

"You're dismissed. Get ready for your evening chores."

The boys left silently. A small smile graced her lips.




Source: PHB

  • Personality Traits: Flattery is my preferred trick for getting what I want. Sarcasm and insults are my weapons of choice.
  • Ideals: I distribute the money I acquire to the people who really need it.
  • Bonds: A powerful person killed someone I love. Some day soon, I'll have my revenge.
  • Flaws: I'm convinced that no one could ever fool me the way I fool others.

Background Feature: I put on new identities like clothes.


I grew up extremely poor in Yellowkeep. My mother did her best to provide for me, earning money as a prostitute. When I was seven, she sent me out of the house on an errand - not unusual when she was entertaining clients. When I returned, she lay slain on the floor. A pair of men were ransacking the house for anything valuable. They did not kill me. Instead, they sold me into indentured servitude to a farmer on the outskirts of Gynleah. It was indentured servitude in name only - for all my work on the night rose farm, I was never able to repay my "debt". I was a slave. The Applewood Farm was a dark place.

I bore the mistreatment, beatings, and toil alongside other children, most of them orphans like myself. We grew close. I took more than my share of beatings for my friends, being the heartiest among us. I became very good at reading the moods of our enslavers. I'm not proud of some of the things I did, but my survival was of utmost importance. I had to protect my friends. We suffered greatly at the hands of the farmer, his family, and his overseers. The farmer's son used to torment us, knowing we could not (and would not) retaliate. When I was 16, one of us was beaten so severely by an overseer that he died. Most of my friends were pacified by this, but I became more resolute: somehow, some way, I would punish the overseers, the farmer, and the slavers who killed my mother and sold me.

The opportunity came when I was 17: the farmer's son came into the barn where we lived and began taunting me. To this day, I don't know quite what happened or what he said to me. All I remember is a surge of anger, my pulse quickening, my body feeling like it was burning up inside…and then he was on the ground in front of me, dead, my fingers grasping his throat and smoke rising from his scorched skin. I felt disoriented. What happened? How did his neck get burned - was that me? I didn't have time to process what happened; the farmer and an overseer walked in moments later. Their shocked hesitation was probably what saved me; my friends swarmed them, overwhelming them with sheer numbers. We killed our enslavers and set fire to the night roses, not sticking around to see what happened. It didn't matter - we were finally free. We scattered to the winds, and I never saw any of my friends again.

I wandered throughout the kingdom, working odd jobs and never staying anywhere long. The chaos awakened that day never left me; if anything it grew stronger, more unpredictable. I eventually assumed a new identity, forged official papers with my new name, and  enlisted with the Royal Army in Onadbyr. I hoped that the discipline and training would help me control my budding abilities. While I learned how to fight and some of the basics of controlling my magic, I was never able to tame the chaos within me. They were good people and I found acceptance among them; nobody cared about my past - my competency was all that mattered. For the first time in my life, I was respected. It felt good, living differently.

At the end of my enlistment contract with the Royal Army, I chose not to re-enlist. The Royal Army did a lot of good, but they also ignored many problems merely because they were outside of their duties. And so, at 29, I found myself in Onadbyr with some money and a whole lot of time on my hands. I opened Freeborn Orphanage in the South District. If I can help it, no child will have to endure what I did.

It was while doing this work that I came to know a cleric of the God of Light and Darkness, Talbur Evanson. The duality of light and darkness, so readily apparent in my own life, rang true with me. I felt many things about what happened that day on Applewood Farm, but I never felt guilty. Sometimes you have to do dark things to bring about the light.

Life is stable and rewarding, but something is missing. I feel the chaos within me growing increasingly restless. The open road calls me. The knowledge that those who killed my mother and sold me into slavery nags at the back of my mind. There is still so much more I can do. There are still people who need to pay for their crimes. Of late, these feelings are overwhelming. That's why I find myself at the Merchant's Rest tonight; I need a distraction. As luck would have it, I overhear a few people talking about something that piques my interest…

Brigida Freeborn.json

Edited by jrsey (see edit history)
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