Subject: "Bloodgaze" 2,378 views

[Shiv]

Picture: img69.yfrog.com/img69/6735/23504414.jpg

Character: Tara "Bloodgaze" Vangirsdottir Player: Shiv
Class: Barbarian/Fighter/Frenzied Berzerker (d12/d10/d12) Level: 8 (4/2/2) (28000xp)
Race: Human Alignment: Chaotic neutral
Size: Medium Gender: Female Height/Weight: 182cm, 76kg
Eyes: Chestnut Hair: Platinum blonde, shoulder-length, straight Skin: Weathered and pale
Age: 32 (Middle/Old/Venerable/Max: 35/53/70/89)
Patron Deity/Religion: All of them, in a very off-hand manner
Region: Vaasa

Bloodgaze is a tall , blonde, northern Valkyrie. At least when she takes time to straighten her sloppy carriage and removes the lazy look from her eyes. This usually happens roughly two or three seconds before she starts screaming at the top of her lungs and launches herself with reckless abandon at her foes. Wearing a impressive enchanted armor, black with gold inlays, a tattered red cloak, and with red warpaint around her eyes, there are few who would debate that standing in her way when she has worked herself into a rage is "tactically disadvantageous" and fewer yet have stood in the aftermath to tell the tale. Outside combat situations Taras demeanor is quite different. She enjoys a good meal, a good laugh, and a good story. When dressed in her embroided black shirt and grey trousers, and without the warpaint, she could easily be mistaken for a tall and slightly muscled woman, but still wide off from her warrior-self. So far no one has ever seen her wearing a skirt, and asking her why is most often rewarded with a huff and a glare. Favoring durable clothes in gray, black and the occasional green, Tara seems to dress more out of practicality than style, although embroidery and the odd silver hairpin och brooch hints at a liking of “pretty things” but it might be unwise to press the issue. Her demeanor is somewhat boisterous, gleefully elbowing her way into conversations that interest her and seemingly ignorant of many things in social etiquette. For better and worse she seems like a happy-go-lucky mercenary, with few cares in the world and nothing to burden her. When she talks she speaks in a light tone of voice, heavily accented in Vaasan, and even manages to pull of something of "high speech" when talking to those above her position, albeit not with much flair. She seems to respect lords and ladies, at least as long as she's not expected to act like one, and is malleable and amicable enough to take /some/ critique to heart. Although the steely glint in her eyes will tell you when to stop pushing your luck.

One thing that never improves though, is her posture.

16STR +3
14DEX +1 (Armor MaxDEX)
15CON +2
13INT +1
11WIS +0
13CHA +1

74HP (14 + 31 + 11 + 18) (90HP Rage)
21AC, 11TAC, 20FFAC (10 + 1DEX + 9 Armor + 1 Shield) (19AC Rage, 17AC Frenzy)
+12FORT (10 Base + 2CON)
+3RFLX (2 Base + 1DEX)
+5WILL (1 Base + 4 Item)

+1 Initiative (1DEX)
+11/+6/+1 Melee Attack (8 Base + 3STR)
+9/+4 Ranged Attack (8 Base + 1DEX)
Weapon Proficiency (Simple, Martial, Bastard)
Armor Proficiency (All)
Shield Proficiency (All)

**Current Weapon/Armor Loadout**
Bastard Sword +1: +12 Attack, 1d10+4 18-20/x2, Slashing
-Rage: +14 Attack, 1d10+6
-Frenzy: +15 Attack, 1d10+7
Light Steel Shield: +1AC, -1ACP, 5%ASF
Armor of Dancing Shadows: +9AC, +1MaxDEX, -5ACP, 35%ASF, 20ft/15ft
-Notes: Saying "Join my dance" casts Mirror image (3) 2/day
Talisman of Willpower: +4 to WILL

**Skills**
*Climb: 3 (5 Ranks + 3STR - 5ACP)
*Handle Animal: 6 (5 Ranks + 1CHA)
*Intimidate: 9 (8 Ranks + 1 CHA)
*Jump: 2 (5 Ranks + 3STR - 6ACP)
*Listen: 0
*Ride: 8 (5 Ranks + 1DEX + 2 Synergy)
*Survival: 0
*Swim: -4 (5 Ranks + 3STR - 12ACP)

**Abilities**
[Class] Frenzy 1/day: Adds +6 str -4 AC, gains 1 attack when doing full attack, and takes 2 points of non-lethal damage every round. Lasts for 4 rounds. Fatigued at end.
[Class] Diehard: May remain conscious at -1 to -9 HP, automatic stabilize in this interval. Can still move or attack each round if conscious, but sterneous activity may inflict -1HP
[Class] Supreme cleave: Allows character to move 5-feet before using the cleave feat, usable only once/turn
[Class] Fast movement: Adds +10 to movement speed, not usable in heavy armor or with a heavy load.
[Class] Rage 2/day: Adds +4 str, +4 con, +2 will saves (morale), and -2 AC. Lasts for (3 + con) 6 rounds. Fatigued at end of rage
[Class] Uncanny dodge: Retains Dex bonus even when caught flat footed
[Class] Trap sense +1: +1 to reflex saves and AC for attacks made by traps

**Feats**
[Racial] Weapon proficiency (Bastard sword)
[Region] Tireless: All exhaustion affects reduced to fatigue. Fatigue effects negated
[Fighter]Power Attack: Trade attack bonus for damage (up to attack bonus)
[Fighter]Cleave: Extra melee attack after dropping a target
[1st]Intimidating rage: Cause a single foe within 30 feet to become shaken. Uses intimidate, only once/encounter
[3rd]Destructive rage: +8 bonus on str for checks to break objects
[6th]Improved critical (Bastard sword): Doubles threat range of bastard swords

**All Gear** (Equipped or not)
Bastard Sword +1: 2335gp, +1 Attack, 1d10+1 19-20/x2, 6lb, Slashing
Lance: 10gp, 1d8 20/3, 10lb, Piercing
Armor of Dancing Shadows: 6970gp, +9AC, +1MaxDEX, -5ACP, 35%ASF, 20ft/15ft, 50lb
Light Steel Shield: 9gp, +1AC, -1ACP, 5%ASF, 6lb
Backpack: 2gp, 2lb (52.1lb)
-Bedroll: 5lb
-Winter blanket: 3lb
-Piece of chalk (10): 0lb
-Flint and steel: 1gp, 0lb
-Manacles: 15gp, 2lb
-Piton (5): 2.5lb
-Cold Weather outfit: 8gp, 7lb
-Traveler's outfit: 1gp, 5lb
-Explorer's outfit: 10gp, 8lb
-Torch (2): 2lb
-Whetstone: 1lb
-Hammer: 2lb
-Trail rations (5): 3gp, 5lb
-380pp, 8gp: 7.6lbs
Map/scroll case: 1gp .5lb
Clay mug: 1lb
Iron pot: 10lb
Healers kit: 50gp, 1lb
Talisman of Willpower: 1777gp, 0lb

Total: 15000gp (3808gp in cash), 136.6lb
Carrying Capacity (Light/Medium/Heavy): 0-76 / 77-153 / 154-230

**Languages**
Common, Damaran, Dwarven

[One Round] Walk: 20ft | Hustle: 40ft | Run(x3): 60ft | Run(x4): 80ft
[One Minute] Walk: 200ft | Hustle: 400ft | Run(x3): 600ft | Run(x4): 800ft
[One Hour] Walk: 2 miles | Hustle: 4 miles
[One Day] Walk: 16 miles

**Mounts**
"Blackie" (Latest addition after the tragic combat-related death of "Brownie II" and, before that, "Brownie"). Blackie is a shaggy, quite small and incredibly stout horse with the pedigree and temper to match his mistress, that of an angry bastard. Blackie is the kind of horse that would become a bouncer in a horse-bar -had such existed-.

Rough refference: www.nordsvensken.org/images/fotografering.jpg

Heavy warhorse (pp. 273 MM-1)
HP:32 Initiaitve: +1
AC: 14, Touch 10, flat-footed 13
BAB/grapple: +3/+11
Attack: Hoof+6; Melee 1d6+4 Full attack: 2hooves+6; Melee 1d6+4 and 1 bite+1; melee 1d4+2
Space/reach: 10ft/5ft
Special qualities: Low-light vision, Scent
Saves: Fort +7, Ref +5, Will +2
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills: Listen +5, Spot +4
Feats: Endurance, Run
Carrying capacity: 0-300, 301-600, 601-900 (Currently carrying 299,2 lb, light load)

[One Round] Walk: 50ft | Hustle: 100ft | Run(x3): 150ft | Run(x4): 200ft
[One Minute] Walk: 500ft | Hustle: 1000ft | Run(x3): 1500ft | Run(x4): 2000ft
[One Hour] Walk: 5 miles | Hustle: 10 miles
[One Day] Walk: 40 miles

War sadle, saddle bags, reins, girdle etc.

[Shiv]

Anyone with half an ear who had visited any tavern in the last few years knew of "Bloodgazes bloodletters", a mercenary band renowned for their ferocity and their thorough approach to their work. They were, before their recent disbanding, the go-to group when you wanted something done that did not in any way require tact, style or care. When collateral damage was a requirement rather than a hazard, and when you wanted to make sure that when the problem was solved what remained of it was its memory, all other traces wiped clean off the face or Toril. The bloodletters were the first choice when it came to hostile invasions and a last resort when family feuds were taken too far. As the nasty incident with the twenty five firebombed achers of grapes had shown. The company had steadily been playing their trade in the areas between Cormyr and the Moonsea for almost half a dozen years under the leadership of the (in)famous captain Bloodgaze, who paradoxically enough, was a rarely seen figure, more of a myth to scare children with than a living breathing man who had single handedly turned the tide of the battle for Hillsfar plain.

Even more paradoxical might be that the twelve foot titan of death known as Bloodgaze is, as stated by those few who have dealt with him directly, a woman.

----

Tara Vangirsdottir was born to Vangir Folkmarsson and some unknown tavern-wench "conquest" of his, who presumably was a camp-follower to the Vaasan noble. Why Vangir decided to keep the child and raise it as his own is a mystery to everyone, even Tara herself, but she is known to speak highly of her father in thanks of the life she was given. Vangir was chief of a minor settlement but more inclined, and indeed interested, in waging war on his neighbors and surrounding monsters than to take care of his own lands. Spending as many months of the year as possible in field, retreating only to his keep during the coldest months of winter. It was to this welcoming world that Tara was brought, kicking and screaming after a difficult delivery, and it was this world she grew accustomed to during her child years and adolescence.

Tara was of course never invited along on her fathers campaigns but spent most of her youth at home, accompanied by the sagas of valor and combat that the local bards composed of her fathers exploits. The heroic tales told by the skalds inspired the young woman and it did not take long before her father returned home to find his daughter practicing swordplay and wrestling with the other men of the keep. There was a fair amount of resistance at first, the servants growing accustomed to the sound of Tara and Vangirs voices screaming at each other, and the girls explosive temper when sparring with her peers did little to help those few who would speak out on her behalf. What's more, her mood became increasingly unstable, the girl lashing out at servants, peers, and even betters at slightest provocation. These problems persisted for well over a year, her father being forced to stay at home just to help control his daughter and charge, until the breaking point came and Vangir ordered the girl be examined by the clan high-shaman. Tara doesn't speak much of the examination but the results we definitive. Somehow an angry spirit had taken possession of the girl due to her unwomanly ways and the juxtaposition of her body and the demons psyche was the cause for her temper. The best cure would of course be for Tara to take up her proper womanly duties and hopefully the demon would tire of her and leave. In the interim the shaman fashioned a powerful magical charm, a golden necklace holding a large sapphire, that would help her control her temper and thus keep the demon at bay.

From Taras point of view it was all a big conspiracy. Having proved herself in the sparring arena (she had held the champion title for three equinoxes running) as well as in maintaining her own gear, riding, and traversing the wilderness, it seemed to her that it was all a major hoax. She cared little for trying to appease her inner demon, claiming that she'd rather break it down with pure force of will than to give up the life she knew. Seemingly determined to ignore her place in the world Tara was certain that the fault did not lie with her. She knew she could do anything as well as any other man, and had no patience with the cultural norms of her clan. So one day after a particularly heated argument between her father, the arms-master, and herself. She packed her bags in a rage, grabbed some of her loyal friends, and set out, her father unable to stop her due to a recently acquired broken arm, a concussion, and a chewed off hamstring. Shouting a curse at the gates behind her and promising she'd return once she proved she could make a name for herself and that she was just as good, or even better, than her whole clan combined. Thus the original "Taras Bloodletters" were born.

[Shiv]

The bloodletters started out small. Five friends: Tara, Sven, Eskil, Thigvar and Yskvar. Low on money and with few connections the group spent their early days living in the wilds to save their silvers, an endeavor only made possible thanks to the party ranger Eskil blazing their trail south and hunting. As much as they were trained in outdoor survival, all five Vaasan youngsters were too green to tackle the environment and survival took the co-operation of each member. Ties were made during these times that would persist for many years. Tara was the obvious leader, in part through her bloodline, in part through respect for her prowess, and to some extent for the fear of making her angry. Her rage had not calmed much since leaving her home although her magical charm helped her keep her explosive temper in check. Nevertheless when the bloodletters got their first assignment of importance (at least that paid well), clearing out a nest of gnolls, it was thanks to the diplomatic skills of Sven that sealed the contract. The mission itself was a resounding success. After executing a few daylight raids on the raiders themselves, the bloodletters had slain almost half the monsters and forced the others underground. With the gnolls low on morale and numbers it was then simple to point Tara, Thigvar and Sven in the right direction, charge headlong into the gnoll cave with Yskvar and Eskil killing off anything that fled out. Massacre ensued and the bloodletters earned their first victory and took the first step on the road of infamy.

Over the coming months the chain of command was established in the group, with Tara planning operations and being the forefront fighter, Sven being the diplomat, Eskil taking care of tracking and survival, Thigvar (with his limited shamanistic training) making sure they didn't anger any spirits, and finally Yskvar taking care of the treasury. It was also during this time that Tara realized that a ghost of her past was haunting her, rearing its ugly head to remind her what she tried to leave behind. Her gender. After being rejected for a job is was by sheer coincidence that Yskvar later saw, and overheard, their prospective employer in a tavern, speaking jestingly to his friend that he had to turn down a group of barbarians since he was certain that hiring a woman to do a mans job would be a waste of a good retainer. Yskvar listened to the men laughing and talking for a while, noting the details, and then did what any responsible but none-too-bright subordinate would do. He told his commander.

The coucilmans house burned down that night, the resulting fire spreading to several nearby houses before in could be contained. Taras bloodletters departed hastily.

Posed with the conundrum of her gender and name, Tara took to the logical conclusion that there was little she could do to change her sex, and that escaping the past seemed impossible as well. The only solution then would be to dupe any future employers while still keeping her position as leader. Taking the moniker "Bloodgaze" based from her way of fighting like a woman possessed, as well as from the red thick root-extract she used as make-up. Tara more or less abandoned her female name, letting her friends use it to her only when no one else was around. The group also purposefully talked about "their mighty leader" in masculine form, and Sven was chosen as the official "avatar" of bloodgaze during traveling. With these changes made the friends saw in an increase in work, employers seemingly more trusting that a big burly warrior from the north could take care of maiming monsters and wiping out enemies than a blonde woman.

With more jobs, more money and more fame (clearing out a large orc nest and impaling the heads, limbs and bodies of over half a hundred creatures along the major trails as a warning to other goblinoids gave them a reputation with both sides) also came more danger and greater challenges. It was after accepting a particularity tough assignment, where a keep had to be stormed and burned, that Tara pitched and drove through the idea of recruiting. Thus Bloodgazes bloodletters quickly grew, taking on on any man or woman who had no fear of death and could swing a blade, throw a spell or poison a drink. Over the course of a year the original five grew into a large band almost four dozen members in size, although the paradigm in command never shifted from the original cast. This of course allowed for even greater jobs. By now the unit now operated in several smaller groups, converging three times/year to discuss their deeds and exchange members. These meetings were often large affairs, a small tent village springing up out of nowhere where there would be duels, fests and competitions for almost a week before disappearing as quickly as it came, the bloodletters returning to their dangerous work. At the peak of their power -not long ago- the bloodletters had no less then 78 members, being a large mercenary band and having partaken in one large scale war as well as several minor skirmishes. It's also interesting to note that the constellation of friends, the original five, had survived so far and that their ties were as strong as ever. It's also important to note that the bloodletters were (unofficially) disbanded at the nadir of their power. Much due to the ties that bind and not ones that sever.

(To be continued)

[Shiv]

"Bloodgaze! Enough!", the words cut through the red daze like a knife, reaching Taras ears but not quite getting into her brain. Bloodgaze shrugged mentally and drove another knee into the groin of the boy. This one would probably give birth to clots of blood for the next three years, the tiny -still thinking- part of her brain noted laconically. "Bloodgaze, in the name of the shadeworm, stop!", Sven continued his verbal barrage. She managed to catch a glimpse of momement at the edge of her vision before a big mailed fist materialized out of nowhere and embedded itself into her left cheek. Letting go of the boy and spinning with the momentum, Bloodgaze gracefully pivoted on her left fot, spun 180 degrees and came to face her attacker, her lips drawn back in half a snarl, half a vicious grin. Sven stood there, he was pointing that pesky wand at her again, if she acted fast she'd beat him this time. With a scream of rage her naked toes dug into the ground as she launched herself at him. "Paralyze", he said in clean, calm, tones.

"What the hell are you doing?" he continued a short second later after making sure that his commander, frothing at the mouth and eyes intent, was now transfixed in a semi lunge, frozen like a taxidermied dog. "This is the third recruit today. You will not -and you shall not- trounce the newcomers just for looking at you funny. What was it this time? Did he mistake you for a serving wench? I doubt it since you're in the arena, dressed like that", Sven made a sweeping gesture to Taras attire, a white linen tunic and trousers, reinforced with leather and stained with mud. Wrestlers clothes. "Or did he somehow imply that you should be wearing a skirt? Banes black hand Bloodgaze, you get a grip on your demon this instance, or by the Yew-mother I'm going to carve you up and see if I can find it inside of you." Sven was psyching himself up, she could hear it. He was growing angrier with every word, while she felt her own rage drain away, now that she didn't have an outlet for it. It was hard to keep up steam when you couldn't do anything with it. Behind her she could hear the muffled moans and the heavy sounds of the boy being dragged off by the other blodletters. Why had she attacked him anyway? She couldn't quite remember the reason, but she was pretty sure it was a good one. I mean to make himself deserve four knees to the groin it must've been something pretty harsh. Tara idly reflected over the strange fact that she could not remember the reason for fighting, but that every move and every nuance of the fight itself was crystal clear, the thought amused her. "I'm serious now Bloodgaze. Don't get violent with the newcomers. Do you think everyone who comes here knows that you're the one? That word magically spreads as soon as they sign up about you? They. Don't. Know. And you don't -like last night- kick someone in the teeth just for suggesting you'd join him in bed. Blood and fire Tara. Half the men here still think I'm the real Bloodgaze."

That kicked it though. He called her Tara, he made her a woman in front of everyone. The bastard, the fucking bastard. Now he deserved to die..."

With a gasp she awoke. Her head had sunk into the tub as she relaxed too much and with curses and sputtering Tara tried to clear out her nose and throat. She muttered under her breath, damn that man. She'd trusted him. As her coughing fit slowly abated she took in her surroundings, realizing that the water had turnined quite chilly, and that there were now several slices of bread and milk by her tub. Blodgaze gripped them and eagerly wolfed them down, chugging the milk in big, heavy gulps that sent rivulets of white snaking down the sides of her troat and shoulders. Damn that Sven. With a spalsh she got out of her bath, leaving a large puddle to gather where she stood, not that she really cared. Bending over and picking up her dirty clothes from the floor she threw them into the water. It was cleaner then they so it should be enough. With a sigh she knelt down by the tub. If only the past came off as easy.