Auravian, "The Wandering Angel"
A kind angelic ranger with a deadly eye. He wanders the land in search of evil.
Level: 9 ranger, 1 sorcerer, 10 arcane archer
Weight: 133 lb
Handle Animal: 10
K Arcana: 12
K Dungeon: 12
K Geog: 12
K Nature: 12
Stealth: 73/53/33 base (Ring of Invisibility)
Use M device: 11
9 (plus any various arcane stuff I put on it)
14 (+2d6 flaming and shocking dmg)
Bracers of Armor +8
Ring Protection +5
Amulet of Nat Armor +5
Dusty Rose Ioun Stone (Implanted in chest)
Headband of Mental Superiority +6
Belt of Physical Perfection +6
Ring of Invisibility
Bag of Holding IV
Boots of Speed
Cloak of resistance +5
Eyes of the Eagle
Gloves of Arrow Snatching
Clear Ioun Stone (Implanted on forehead)
Deep Red Ioun Stone (Implanted on left hand)
Pale Green Ioun Stone (Implanted on right hand)
Weapon Focus Longbow
Improved Precise Strike
Improved Vital Strike
Greater Vital Strike
Favored Enemy (2 v Dragons)
Combat Style Feats (listed under the feat section)
Favored Terrain (sorc lvl dmg to evil creatures or healing to good creatures
Elemental Burst Arrows
Seeker Arrow 4/day
Phase Arrow 3/day
Hail of Arrows 1/day
Arrow of Death
The sky was red and the sun was setting. The day grows dark. Evil is coming.
The tall, thin man with the kind face and silver eyes stepped over yet another body. There were so many. The town was literally destroyed.
He was getting close now.
He takes another step. It was almost difficult to see the ground due to the amount of bodies and debris. He sighs and pauses, looking down into the mauled face of a young woman. There was no time to think about the devastation. He had to rescue these poor people’s souls.
He keeps walking.
The man with the kind face now stood with a scowl, bow drawn and arrow knocked, centered on the horrific creature’s forehead, where a horrible yellow eye stared at him from between two bloody eye sockets.
The creature laughed. “You’ve brought me here, puny elf. And for what?”
The man, or rather, the elf stood motionless, his silver eyes seemed to glow in the red gloom.
The creature stood as tall, possibly taller than, most trees. It had razor claws, extremely large, broad wings, and feline legs. It had the head of a ravenous looking wolf and its arms seemed to be covered in thorns. A strange, wailing mist seemed to cover the beast. It laughed again.
Suddenly the arrow knocked into the elf’s bow burst into a golden white flame and the creature ceased its laughter.
The elf spoke, in a harsh whisper, “You are the cause of terrible evil. People lay dead by the hundreds for no reason. And their tortured souls now surround you like a mist. They must be freed.”
The eye on the creature’s forehead squints in suspicion and the feathers of its wings ruffle in irritation. “Are you seriously going to fight me, puny weakling?” It takes a massive, earth shaking step forward.
The elf fires the arrow. The creature attempts to dodge it and bat it away with a claw but it swerves around the claw and follows the creature, hitting him directly in the sickening yellow eye. The arrow sinks deeply into the creature’s skull and it roars in pain. The creature collapses to one knee and roars again at the elf, this time in rage. In less than a second four more arrows are fired, each one finding their mark, peppering the creature’s face.
The elf yells back to the beast, “No! I am going to send you back to the wasteland!”
Ever since he was born he was considered a strange, if gifted member of the Elven race, being blessed with the celestial blood of a long since dead ancestor. He was born with angelical physical features, silver hair, eyes, and pale skin.
His sire, Vanir, was a legendary archer, who used his legendary bow, Gaia, to slay the dreaded Daemon lord, Nahagliiv, with a single arrow. Many years later, after his passing, Auravian came into the possession of the bow. At this time, he was already skilled in the use of the bow as well as with magic, having gone to school and joined the Wood’s Watch, a militaristic group of rangers and scouts that guarded his kinsman’s forest home. As a way of passing the time, as well as finding new ways to improve his skills he searched for ways to use his magic to augment his natural marksmanship abilities, wandering the world, and rooting out evil wherever it festers, earning his nickname, “The Wandering Angel.”
Due to his skill with the bow he has been contacted by a mercenary group and has joined with them.