Neverwinter: Stoneseeking and Spellplague
The party's foulmouthed, hashslinging, part-pangolin Rogue
Seven is small, sizing up at 4’8", but weighs in at about 230 lbs (he’s dense, not fat).
He has a dark sandy complexion, a long snout, small beady eyes, and thick chitinous scales plating most of his body. He is stout, with wide shoulders and a low center of gravity, though he surprisingly agile and stealthy, and is an incredible climber.
In combat, Seven prefers to stay out of sight and attack with a well placed fireball or poison tipped crossbow bolt. If he does find his way into close quarters combat (which in all realty happen quite frequently) he is quite handy with his trusty short-sword.
“I don’t necessarily look for trouble, it just has a knack for finding me.”
He is mischievous and rather fun loving, and until a few rather life-changing events during the heroes campaign, he was a very independent and solitary type. He has become emotionally attached to the members of his party, whether or not they feel the same way (specifically Alandiel). He’s not one to back down from a fight, often starting them himself. He has little to no regard for law enforcement or nobility, and generally speaking, if he sees something he wants, he finds a way to get it. He is also never one to turn down a round of drinks, especially if he’s not buying.
While he often comes across as a narcissist, he has a lot of issues with what he is. Outwardly proud of his pangolin mutations, he still holds a huge grudge against the hags who stole away any chance at a normal life he once had.
From his experience with the hags, he has an inward fascination with magic, studying all he can find on the subject, but only when no one is looking. Additionally, seeing how the hags treated him and all their other slaves and experiments, he has developed very strong feelings against any kind of slavery or indentured servitude, and will go to the end of the earth to free and bring justice to slaves or anyone who is trapped in an unwanted situation.
Coming from a background of gangs and thievery, he has encountered just about every kind of low-life and scumbag imaginable. Because of this, he tends to be wary of any stranger the heroes meet.
Seven started life much like that of any other human in the Forgotten Realms. Also, his name was not originally Seven, but the traditional elegant name of Merát Sant-Lot Cofi. But that name has long since been lost. He lived in a Semi nomadic village that lived mainly in swamps doing the hunting-gathering-self-sustaining thing, but they would also often set up camp near larger towns to trade for goods and things.
His Tribe based a lot of importance on living in balance with nature and the give and take balance of life. The tribe was essentially a nomadic communist society. They are also rather mystic. They worship nature spirits to channel earthly energy to do cool voodoo magic. A lot of their practices involve some sort of sacrificial rite or some kind of blood offering, the extensive use of animal bones and face paint, as well as chanting in a language that no one can quite recognize. Because of the communism and witchcraft, most of the other inhabitants of the Forgotten Realms tend not to trust the tribe, but still value them for the trading opportunities.
Seven was a hunter’s apprentice until the tender age of 13 when, during a hunting trip, he was kidnapped in the night by the mutant henchmen of a band of hags and taken back to their caves
This coven of Hags was obsessed with trying to create the perfect servant and delved deep into some of the darkest arts in their attempts to do so. For 8 long years, Seven was subject to all manner of terrible experimentation, resulting in his anthropomorphic pangolin physiology. He has scales that cover his arms and back and tail, obviously like that of a pangolin. He has a long sharp snout and small, black and beady, rather useless eyes. His hands remain rather humanoid, with three short fingers and a stubby little thumb, each ending in a small claw. His mutations definitely affected his speed, as his legs are super tiny. But he has retained his agility and has a knack for getting to where he needs to be, regardless of how high or difficult to reach the destination might be. While his sight is adversely effected, his sight and smell are superhuman. Also, to compensate for his terrible eyesight, he can use a sub-audible form of echolocation. His mind was also adversely effected through his ordeal with the hags. He’s lost a lot of his memory of his life with the tribe, and no longer remembers his name, family or friends, and most of the experiences he had previously. He does recall most of the voodoo and mystic practices he learned, and also has retained the survival skills.
Since his abduction, the hags have kept him heavily drugged and hexed into doing their bidding. Hes been forced to kidnap and murder countless poor souls. In his lucid moments, be they few and far between, he does everything he can to keep his wits about him and try to horde what supplies he can because he’s definitely determined to escape.
In the dead of one winter, when the hags were essentially hibernating, he plotted his escape. The hags would sleep for several days at a time, during which they would lock all of their slaves and experiments in cages. During these days the drugs and hexes would start to wear off. For majority of the others, this was horrendous and painful detox experience, and they would lay in their cages writhing in pain, doing what they could to cope with their horrific mutations and brain damage. For Seven and few others, Four, Nineteen, Twenty Six, and Eleven, this detox period was the only time they were lucid enough to think and act normally. [sidenote: they were all named after what experiment number they were, as this is how the hags would keep track of them, they are all magically branded with the abyssal character for what number they are on their right forearm] Using a combination of stolen and crudely made lock picking tools (that miraculously never broke?!) Seven managed to free the others. Immediately they made a break for the hag’s supply room. While they were raiding the caves one of the others bumped a table a little too loudly and stirred the hags from their slumber. In the ensuing chaos the party was split and Seven, Four and Twenty-Six, end up getting chased down into a dead end. There was a very short scuffle with one of the hags. She ends of blasting out a section of the roof caving in the tunnel between them. The hag, thinking she’d crushed them under the cave’s cave in, retreated to go help her sisters deal with the other escapees. It is still not known what came of Nineteen and Eleven. Seven and company however survived the cave in but were trapped in total darkness. This wasn’t a problem for Seven, as he has echolocation, or for Twenty Six, who didn’t have eyes and but rather perceived the world through psychic means. Four on the other hand, was mostly duck, and wasn’t much help in what happened next. The next few days of their lives were spent trying to dig their way out into the harsh glow of sunlight. For the first time since his forced evolution, Seven saw his mutations more as a gift than a curse.
The survivors found themselves dug out of a large hill in the middle of a forest. Here they decided to part ways, thinking they would be better off alone than trying to face the world as a traveling freak show. Here they vowed that they would never look for or try to contact each other again, unless they happened across each other out in the world. If they were to come into contact again, they’d figure it out from there. Seven spent the next week or so wandering aimlessly through the woods and getting better acquainted with his new found freedom. He lived off of wild berries and small game he managed to catch mostly by hand, finding it easier to do solely by hand than using the crude spear he cobbled together. Eventually he happened on a small creek. He decided to follow it as it would probably lead to civilization at some point. After a few days of this, he is happened upon by a small troupe of bandits. These bandits cannot decide whether to kill him, as they assume he’s some kind of weird unholy abomination, or to spare him. Seven convinces them to spare him, and pleas to let him follow them around and help them, at least until he has enough supplies to support himself elsewhere. They grudgingly agree and he spends the next month or so with these bandits, learning the craft of raiding caravans. During his time with these bandits, it was clear that they didn’t like or particularly trust Seven. He didn’t particularly care for them either.
After one particularly good raid, where the crew had plundered a large amount of gold and an even larger amount of fine dwarven brandy, the crew decided that some measure of festivities were in order. They filled the night with drinking and celebration of a caravan well tipped. Seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get back at them for the months’ worth of belittling, Seven waited until the others had passed out due to their intoxication. One by one, he went around their camp carefully and quietly slitting each of their throats. He felt very little remorse for this, as he knew they each would have done the same to him in a heartbeat. He took all of their collective wealth and supplied himself well from their stores and got on the nearest road heading north.
[MORE TO BE COME]