7th Level Shaman

Created by Frank Carroll

Attribute

Bonus

Abilities

Weapon Proficiencies

Simple weapons, light armor, medium shields

Feats

• Extra Turning (+4 times/day, total 11)

• Extend Spell (2x Duration, 1 slot higher)

• Turn Undead (11 times/day, +2 to Turning - Knowledge (Religion)
  

• Martial Weapon Proficiency - War hammer (War Domain)

• Weapon Focus - War hammer (War Domain)

• Still Spell (No Somatic Component, 1 slot higher)

• Silent Spell (No Verbal Component, 1 slot higher)
  

Spells

+1 Spell: 1st Level, 2nd Level, 3rd Level, 4th Level

Skills

STR: 13

+1

INT: 12

+1

WIS: 14

+2

DEX: 14

+2

CON: 14

+2

CHA: 19

+4

XP: 15,000

HP: 70

Base Attack Bonus +5

Melee: +5 (+1 STR)
Ranged: +6 (+2 DEX)

Saves: Fortitude +7, Reflexes +4, Will +7

AC: 17

Equipment

• Chain Shirt

• Bucklers

• Greathammer (+2, +2 vs Undead)

• Heavy Crossbow and Bolts (10 Ordinary, 6 Arrows of Flaming Burst)

• Dust of Tracelessness (10 pinches)

• Keoghtom's Ointment (10 doses)

Description

Race: Northerling

Height: 5'1"
Weight: 120 lbs.
Hair:black, worn in a short ponytail
Eyes: black
Age: 25

Khom-Bei has a wiry build and dresses in the traditional skins and furs of his people.

 

History

"I am Khom-bei Limbcleaver. I am shaman as my father was shaman as his fathers before him were shaman. I have read the writing of the smoke and suckled on the sound of drums. I have learned to break the wild ponies and to throw the war-axe. I have climbed the spine of the world and made a chieftain's daughter mine. And now I have come to this.

The dark ones came to our tribe demanding tribute of one hundred warriors for their armies. Our chief would not give them what they wanted, for it would have left the tribe with no one to hunt and to provide food for the people. The dark ones swore that they would destroy us all. My father, Khom, went to the chief and told him to give half of the number. He told the chief to promise more men every year and that the dark ones would understand that a steady supply is better than a large group only once.

The dark ones took what the chief offered and fifty of our finest men walked out of our camp. My father came to me and told me that I must go with them. I who could not master the reading of the clouds to tell the forthcoming weather. I who could not taste the harvest in the first grass of spring. I who could not do the things that the people of my tribe needed would be the one to go to war. I thought that he was sending me because I was not useful in the camp, because I was not needed. Only now have I learned that he had seen in me what I was to become.

It happened in the third battle, the change that took me over. Lhin-bei was leading our men as he always did. A man larger than any other in our tribe, he was a fine warrior and a fine leader and I was proud to call him friend. Nearing the end of the battle an enemy archer pierced his throat between armor and helm. I dropped my axe and held him in my arms as he died. As he died, I cursed the dark ones and the enemy and our chieftain and my father and the Powers for taking such a good man. In my rage, I cursed them all by name, one by one, until I came to Busc.

On his name I choked, my throat unable to pass the words. A voice like the noise of stones falling down a mountain rang inside my head. "You would curse me for taking the tribute that is rightfully mine, little one? You would deny me the finest of your warriors? You who cannot even see what is inside? Observe."

With the final word, a red haze came over my vision and my body began to move of its own will. I felt my axe in my hands and my feet moving, running toward the enemy with a cry on my lips; "Lhin-bei!" I was a man possessed, filled by the power of a Power determined to show me that his will would not be denied. Behind me followed my tribesmen and the rest of the army. We hunted down every one of the enemy that day and when it was done the dead lay around us like the grasses of the plains. As men gathered around me they looked upon me with strangeness in their eyes, as is they did not see Khom-bei but someone else. The voice spoke to me again; "Do you see now, little one? The power that I give? Do you understand why powerful men pray to me for success? Do you understand now that it is not a gift but rather a purchase that has a price? You will sit at my table some day as well, little one, you will pay that price, but not today." With that my arms lifted above my head and I felt the power of Busc flow out of my hands and over the men gathered before me. I saw their wounds close and their pain ease. I saw then why my father had sent me to fight. I am not a shaman of weather and crops, but of war. I am shaman of Busc, the Limbcleaver.