Player: Typewryter
Race: Human
Class: Warlord
Alignment: Neutral Good

Appearance: What lies beneath his iron mask, no man alive can say. To all who look upon the Reaver, he is a beast of steel and cloth, a suit of armor wrapped in a red cloak. Atop his head sits a helm of iron, designed to hide his face in shadow even in the brightest light, for his face is no longer his own, and his armor is now his flesh. He is never without them, preferring to take his meals alone and ensuring he is alone when he sleeps - the visor of his helm can be lifted slightly to allow for eating and drinking if necessary, but this is usually avoided. Should one manage to catch him without his mask, he is a handsome, if plain young man, with a terrible scar along the left side of his face, reaching from his cheek to his collarbone.

Personality: The Reaver is a savage warrior, showing his foes no mercy and asking none in return. Honor-bound to fight for any righteous cause, he throws himself into battle with no regard for his own safety, tearing his foes asunder with brute strength and furious charges. He is a kind man, but cultivates a reputation of fear; many times, the stories of his brutality have been enough to end battles before they were begun. Despite his merciless combat style, he is a noble warrior, dedicating himself fully to any cause he deems just. If he can help it, he will never turn down a request for aid, and commits himself wholly to helping those in need. Despite this, even those who call upon him do so hesitantly, not just for his bloodthirsty tactics, but for his own history - few are quick to call upon the Forsworn for aid.

Background: Though there are none alive who know it, the Reaver has a story. It is one he is loathe to share, for it haunts him still; but to those who are persistent, he will divulge his crimes - he has no right to hide who he is or what he has done, after all. Once, he was a young man; born into slavery, and worked to the bone in his master's silver mine, he knew only servitude from birth. His master was cruel, merciless, and spiteful - but he was the boy's only family, and so he remained and served in silent suffering. Until one day, when a broken plate sent his master into a drunken tirade. In his rage, he let slip the true circumstances of the boy's birth; his "whore mother," a slave to the master, a victim of his monstrous appetites. Even as she carried the boy, she was forced to work, and eventually perished as she gave birth. Enraged by the truth, the young man attacked his father, blacking out in his madness. When he came to, the town guard found him waist-deep in gore, bits of his father's flesh caught in his teeth and nails. Driven wild with fury, he had torn his father apart with his bare hands, drawing upon the strength a lifetime in the mines had built - and in his savagery, he had consumed much of his father's flesh, even tearing out and consuming his heart. Struck dumb by his own savagery, he made no attempt to resist as he was taken away, nor did he defend himself in court. Sentenced to the gallows for his barbarism, he was offered the choice given to all the condemned of his home: death, or exile. With a heavy heart, he swore himself to the iron mask, forsaking all that he was for a chance at redemption through a lifetime of servitude.


You can use an alternate method to log your character's adventures, but you must retain all of the columns included in the table below.
Character Log:

# Adventure Date XP Gain GP Gain Items Gained Items Lost Description
1 Character Creation 5/30/2016 0 200 Traveler’s Outfit
2 Character Creation (buying) 0 Two Longswords, Chainmail 180 gp
3 This is where you link the first adventure you've participated in
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