Discens and Deserts
A Tough Gnoll Fighter!!!
Denegarus, level 5
Lawful Good, Erathis
Fighter Talents: One-handed Weapon Talent
Background – Occupation: Hunter (Class Skill: Perception)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 19, Con 12, Dex 15, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 8.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 18, Con 10, Dex 13, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 8.
AC: 22 Fort: 19 Reflex: 17 Will: 15
HP: 56 Surges: 10 Surge Value: 14
Perception +12, Endurance +6, Athletics +9
Acrobatics +2, Arcana +2, Bluff +1, Diplomacy +1, Dungeoneering +4, Heal +4, History +2, Insight +4, Intimidate +3, Nature +4, Religion +2, Stealth +2, Streetwise +1, Thievery +2
Level 1: Weapon Proficiency (Bastard sword)
Level 2: Shield Push
Level 4: Toughness
Fighter at-will 1: Tide of Iron
Fighter at-will 1: Footwork Lure
Fighter encounter 1: Shield Bash
Fighter daily 1: Lasting Threat
Fighter daily 5: Rain of Steel
Fighter utility 2: Pass Forward
Fighter encounter 3: Sweeping Blow
Heavy Shield, Adventurer’s Kit, Everburning Torch, Opportunistic Bastard sword +1, Ornament of Alertness +1, Counterstrike Guards (heroic tier), Vitality Drakescale Armor +2, Ruby Scabbard (heroic tier)
Dhagnyr was the only one of his litter who survived much past birth. The elders attributed this to the litter’s weak lineage. Dhagnyr’s mother died in the throes of labor, while Dhagnyr’s father had always been a runt, weak of tooth and claw and will. There were (frequent, loud) murmurs questioning how he’d managed to secure a mate at all. But the young gnoll didn’t share his father’s weaknesses. He grew up strong and sharp-eyed.
Growing up, Dhagnyr exhibited a strange temperament for a young gnoll. He was patient and unselfish. Strangest of all, he had a merciful streak to him, where so many other gnolls had only more cruelty. Dhagnyr’s father would often joke that the pup seemed more like one of the soft, neat officers of the human empire than any gnoll hunter. One night Kurash, the clan’s strongest hunter and eldest son of the chief, slew Dhagnyr’s father after a prolonged bout of the taunting and torture the old runt often endured. Dhagnyr chose to tend to his father in those final moments, rather than attack his killer, as most gnolls would.
When he was old enough, Dhagnyr went out on hunting parties, in search of game and water. He excelled at this, and he and his fellow hunters kept the entire clan well-fed even as the encroaching human empire pushed them from their ancestral grounds deeper into the mountains. The seers insisted that there was no reason to fight back against the empire’s gluttonous expansion. It would die, they said, as all the works of men did, expanding as far as it could before turning inward and consuming itself. What’s more, they added, the secret things hidden in the mountains meant the children of Yeenoghu had little to fear from any human army.
After that the gnoll tribes ceded the last of the flatlands to the empire, vanishing into the mountains to hide and wait. Dhagnyr was given a more vital task: to scavenge the remains of lost traders for tools and weapons. On one such raid, he and Kurash stumbled on a caravan that had veered off the path, and now lay broken in a ravine. The merchants were dead, slain by the fine weapons that fell from their cases when the wagon crashed. But the driver, a bent, frail old man, had survived. Eyes alight, Kurash stalked forward. He was about to set upon the helpless old man when Dhagnyr set upon him.
The fight was mercifully brief. The elder gnoll had let his guard down. Dhagnyr, acting on instinct and reflex, hadn’t fully realized what he’d done until the flesh of Kurash’s throat hung in bloody ribbons from his jaws. He bent over the old man, who quailed in terror, begging for his life. The surviving gnoll hoisted the featherlight old man onto his shoulders, and left the corpses and the wagon behind.
It was a few days’ journey along the road. After the second night of Dhagnyr bringing the old man food instead of making him into it, he relaxed a little. He told Dhagnyr that the nearest imperial garrison would be able to treat his wounds. The two talked little after that, neither willing to acknowledge what had happened.
The old man had to plead for quite a while before the legionnaires would let a gnoll inside the garrison, but they relented. Only a handful of the soldiers in the garrison had ever even seen a gnoll before, and even they had never seen one aiding a wounded man. They let Dhagnyr cross the threshold, and the old man was spirited away to the medics.
After that, the commandant of the garrison asked for a private meeting with Dhagnyr. The meeting was brief, but when Dhagnyr left the commandant’s office, he headed not for the gate, but towards the barracks. The next day he was taken to Antard to train as a Legionnaire.
The gnoll became enamored with the ways of the empire. He let his claws grow fat and dull, preferring the weight of sword and shield. He wore clean, well-kept imperial scale, rather than the stitched together scraps of hide and chain that passed for armor among his tribesmen. He abandoned his lip-service tribute to the Ruler of Ruin, finding a deeper meaning in the teachings of Erathis, the light of civilization. He even changed his name, pulling the one his parents gave him through the prism of the imperial dialect. He was no longer Dhagnyr, the only son of a dead runt. He was Denegarus, Servant of the Emperor.
When recruiters for the Discens came by, Denegarus leaped at the opportunity, hoping to become an instructor, one who would teach conquered savages the ways of human war. Despite his adoration of civilization, Denegarus was uncomfortable in crowded places. The crush of life and activity often overwhelmed his sharp senses, making it difficult to hold the internal peace he had grown to treasure so much. He excelled at his training, but he was most grateful for the chance to move out into the desert under the empire’s standard, to do the Emperor’s will and to bring civilization to the uncivilized.