Ajax of Dynomere
Rogue always looking for trouble.
Body 5 (0/2) Mobility 7 (7/7) Mind 7 (3/0)
HP: 23 Def: 13 Init: 13 Move: 4.5 MAT: 12 RAT: 15 SPC: 7 TSC 15
Fleet Footed, Thievery V, Rascal I, Alertness I, Dodge II, Weapon Finesse II, *Stealth I, *Lockpicking I
Silver Dagger (3 WB & 3 WB & +1 Init, -1 OD, 12 CTN for Scorching Blade, rds=roll) 18
Ebony-green leather designed to look like scale mail 2 AV, Stealth I)
Highly polished dwarven chain vambraces & greaves 3 AV)
Wooden shield, dark stain (1 RAT, 1 RAT if loaded missle fired on same round)
Golden Elven longsword scabbard (drawn blade gets +1WB for d20 rounds)
Backpack, Bedroll, Waterskin, Tinderkit, Goblin-carved Bone Dice (goblin make), Deck of Cards, pipe, tobacco x10, bandages x5, weapon paste x2, pouch Blinding Powder x2, pouch Caltrops x2, pouch Ball Bearings x2, Smoke Bomb x2 Lockpicks x10, Rations x3 days, Flask of Oil x3, Healing Potion x2
2 gems (100gp)
Trunk, Solid Lock
Shoulder bag, Large Sack x3, Small Sack x3, Torch x5, Crowbar, Formal and street clothing, 5 silver ingots (50sp)
The Effortless Thief his father called him; not a compliment, but Ajax doesn’t really know any better. More a stab at his morals over skills, but, really, Ajax doesn’t know any better. Tall, lanky, immortal (sort of), and golden blonde like most elves, Ajax follows coin wherever it may lead him. Personal space or possessions are not of much import in the process. He’s jovial, good-natured with impeccable fashion-sense, willing to partake in any quest; luckily, his roguish nature and instincts make him cautious (sort of), avoiding danger as much as diving into it. He’d rather talk than fight, though the twang of his bow or the whistling slice of his longsword are sounds often heard.
His adventuring life has been complicated by trivialities such as thwarting apocryphal machinations with designs towards world destruction which tend to ruin any and all debauchery and pilfering. Hence, it must be stopped. His patience has been truly tested as he has difficulty fathoming such plans being far-reaching and centuries old. He and his companions (whom he has grown quite fond of as they take care of him when he gets knocked-out from time to time, not to underplay their penchance for violence)are embroiled in matters he can barely take the time to grasp, but he’s there, ready to help. Even he, though, feigns not in his loose definition of help.
There is one thing he can’t figure out: why do people and spirits keep asking him about the Elysium Fields?