The Age of Reckoning
A once proud man broken in the gladiator ring now struggles to ignite the flames that once inspired him.
Zaajhan, level 1
Build: Bravura Warlord
Commanding Presence: Bravura Presence
Dragon Breath Key Ability: Dragon Breath Strength
Dragon Breath Damage Type: Dragon Breath Fire
Background: Former Gladiator (Former Gladiator Benefit)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 18, Con 14, Dex 10, Int 13, Wis 8, Cha 16.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 16, Con 14, Dex 10, Int 13, Wis 8, Cha 14.
AC: 18 Fort: 15 Reflex: 13 Will: 14 HP: 26 Surges: 9 Surge Value: 8
Diplomacy +8, Intimidate +10, Athletics +6, Endurance +4
Acrobatics -3, Arcana +1, Bluff +3, Dungeoneering -1, Heal -1, History +3, Insight -1, Nature -1, Perception -1, Religion +1, Stealth -3, Streetwise +3, Thievery -3
Level 1: Shield Proficiency (Heavy)
Warlord at-will 1: Wolf Pack Tactics Warlord at-will 1: Brash Assault Warlord encounter 1: Diabolic Stratagem Warlord daily 1: Lead the Attack
Gladius (Longsword), Javelin (3), Flint and Steel, Torch (2), Trail Rations (10), Waterskin, Bag of Wooden Carvings, Gladiator’s Brand, Wooden Tooth Neckalce, Chainmail, Heavy Shield, Belt Pouch (empty) (2)
Zaajhan’s natural complexion is that of a proud adamant crimson, though his years living in the desert and time in the arena have left his scales weather worn and dulled. Orange bloodshot eyes rest under a heavy and wrinkled brow, his glassy gaze a constant reminder of the broken man who once held a fiery passion within. Zaajhan’s facial features are now only a mockery of their former majesty, along his gaunt and calloused face lie the relics of his many humiliations in the gladiatorial ring, and the twin horns that once stood proudly from the edges of his crest have become riddled with fractures and dulled from one too many confrontations.
A veteran of the ring, the ex-gladiator knows that an adept sword arm and sturdy shield can be the best of companions in the thick of a fight. Accustomed to his gladiatorial trappings, the morose Dragonborn travels light with little more than the weapons on his back and the armor on his chest, and at a glance many have mistaken him for a vagrant or mercenary for hire. Despite Zaajhan’s worn appearance he carries his image like that of a soldier in a faraway land, his proud posture and imposing figure a remnant of the ambition he once held so dearly.
Brash and headstrong, Zaajhan fits the expectations one would have for a Dragonborn child who grew up among the paupers and street-urchins who infested the streets of a city nestled in windswept dunes. The city of Jericho was one of many conflicting beliefs, and while the clans were a civilized people they tore at each others’ throats relentlessly through many underhand means and methods. To the young Dragonborn, life was simply trying to survive to see the light of another day- though this of course was no simple task, especially for a race that was so tightly bound by family and blood. While the Dragonborn had never truly had a family to call his own, the complexion of his scales landed him under the care and authority of the clan “Ixen-Vrevel”, though Zaajhan himself never felt any hints of “belonging” at all. In fact, he was certain that the Ixen-Vrevel regarded him as a property and resource to be bartered with and cast aside; there was no future for a street urchin like him aside from the fate of landing a “job” in a labor internment camp when he was old enough to lift his weight. If it weren’t for an odd turn of events, the fates would have had their prize, but instead the Dragonborn’s innate curiosity eventually led him to an eccentric old veteran by the name of Vynalaeus.
Vynalaeus was a Dragonborn from a forgotten age, where a man was shaped by his honor and duty to his people. The old Templar understood that a young Dragonborn like Zaajhan needed a spark to feed the inner fires of his ambition to give him the drive he needed to survive, and it was under Vynalaeus’ care where the crimson Dragonborn truly flourished. In the years to come he both honed his body and mind to meet a goal, that goal being to escape the life of poverty and bring honor back to his name. It was also during this time when Zaajhan met another young and ambitious Dragonborn by the name of Akalia, and while Dragonborn of different clans were not encouraged to mingle together the two forged a natural friendship together. Both had grown up on the streets of Jerhico, and they both would stay up to listen to the tales of grandeur that the old Vynalaeus would tell them about forgotten gods and the kinds of legends that dreams were made of. Maybe Zaajhan needed her cunning and talent to survive on the streets and she needed his muscle and protection, or perhaps the two saw a reflection of their own ambition in the eyes of the other. For whatever reason, Zaajhan and Akalia formed a bond like that of a family, and the two Dragonborn grew together like no other. As the years went by, Zaajhan was able to find employment with the town watch, and Akalia’s natural talent for learning landed her an apprenticeship with the village elder Myria. During their spare time the two Dragonborn met and exchanged the stories of their mentors, often comparing the two and the oddities between them. While Akalia seemed to believe that there was a hidden truth behind the stories, Zaajhan’s mind was heavily grounded in reality and refused to entertain the thought.
It was only predictable that Zaajhan would chase after Akalia’s footsteps after hearing of her departure, and while the headstrong Dragonborn had a heart full of promise and noble goal, there are many people in the world who wish to take advantage of such an individual, and it was only a matter of time until these men found him. Stripped of his honor, equipment, and the little dignity he had the once-proud Dragonborn was sent to fight in the gladiatorial rings to pay for a dept he never had. It was here the Dragonborn learned a whole new way of survival; if you won the crowd you won the fight. Using his natural abilities, Zaajhan managed to play the crowd against his foes and become a favorite in his season, but it all came at a heavy price. His years in the arena deprived him of his own moral composure and will, reducing him to a husk of his former self. Even after winning his freedom the Dragonborn’s mind and body were fractured, and he wandered the lands piecing together the scraps of his shattered memories, searching for that one missing link to make him whole again.