Syndil – Copy, level 1
Build: Panther Shaman
Companion Spirit Option: Stalker Spirit
Human Power Selection Option: Heroic Effort
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 12, DEX 11, INT 16, WIS 17, CHA 10
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
STR 10, CON 12, DEX 11, INT 14, WIS 17, CHA 10
AC: 15 Fort: 13 Ref: 14 Will: 15
HP: 29 Surges: 8 Surge Value: 7
Endurance +6, Heal +8, Insight +8, Nature +8, Perception +8
Acrobatics +0, Arcana +3, Athletics +0, Bluff +0, Diplomacy +0, Dungeoneering +3, History +3, Intimidate +0, Religion +3, Stealth +0, Streetwise +0, Thievery +0
Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Human Racial Power: Heroic Effort
Shaman Feature: Spirit’s Fangs
Shaman Feature: Call Spirit Companion
Shaman Feature: Healing Spirit
Shaman Feature: Speak with Spirits
Shaman Attack 1: Stalker’s Strike
Shaman Attack 1: Watcher’s Strike
Shaman Attack 1: Ironbreaker Claws
Shaman Attack 1: Spirit Cascade
Level 1: Superior Implement Training (Accurate totem)
Level 1: Toughness
Leather Armor x1
Accurate totem x1
Oil (3 pints)
Times of change and upheaval have always been told to bring on visions of the Great White Stag. However I have had these visions all of my life. The outlanders would call them dreams, but to the granddaughter of a great shaman, they are visions, remnants of the past and portents of the future.
I am Syndil of the Raven clan of the Tlinglit tribe. Daughter of Winona, granddaughter of Liduma, the matriarchal lineage of my clan can be traced back to the Creator as a strong and powerful heritage. But to the interlopers in our midst, none of that mattered. They had no respect for our traditions, our elders, or our way of life. They claim they have bought our land and we must now follow their ways. The land dies as they cut down our sacred forests and dig crevasses deep into the Great Mountains. Our Gods weep as the outlanders recklessly destroy all the bounty that had been given to us all to share.
And my dreams have changed. The Stag summons me. I am to follow where it leads. Gathering my meager possessions I head deep into the forest, to the heart that the outlanders have not yet destroyed. I do not tell my family, not wishing to see fear in the eyes of my grandmother, where once there was only pride and courage. I know my path is righteous, and have no doubt that I will one day rejoin my family and my tribe. That we will one day return to being the great people of the north as we once were. But I know in my heart that in order to accomplish this I must follow the stag, though I am unsure of the purpose.
Traveling for a day and night I eventually come to the ritual cave and prepare my spirit to enter. Settling into the cave, I light a small fire and spend hours contemplating the drawings left behind by my ancestors, taking comfort in those that are familiar and pondering the meanings of those that are so ancient as to be indecipherable. I begin to chant ancient words as I close my eyes and fall into a trance, seeing the mists rise and the stag run once again….only to recoil as the vision changes. I hear the rasping breath of the stag as it struggles to rise, only to fail. I smell the rotting flesh as I move closer, gasping in horror as I see the half eaten visage of the once magnificent head of great white hart. The repugnance of the vision jerks me out of my trance and I wipe sweat from my face, only to realize it is tears. My heart aches as I stumble out of the cave, taking deep gulps of fresh air in a vain effort to cleanse my heart and soul of the vile vision.
After a time, finally finding a semblance of calm, I turn back to the cave entrance, only to find I have apparently roamed further than I had thought. The fog rises and the forest that I had roamed my whole life seems unfamiliar. I can no longer find any landmarks that usually mark my way as I stumble around in the mists, searching for the cave. What was just moments ago a warm and sunny day has become a cold and bitter night. Fear creeps up my spine but I continue on until suddenly I come back into the light….in a totally alien land with the sound of battle in my ears and the smell of blood in my nose