Name: Harsk
Alignment: LG

HP: 31
AC: 17

STR: 15, DEX: 12, CON: 12, INT: 12, WIS: 13, CHA: 16

Weapon: Greatsword

Shield Proficiency

Special Abilities:
Aura of Good
Detect Evil
Smite Evil – 2x day
Divine Grace
Lay on Hands
Aura of Courage
Divine Health
Mercy – Sickened,
Channel Positive Energy


My family has been plagued by a curse for longer than most can remember. It was brought upon us by a necromancer named Ebraecular the Empty more than 5 generations ago. I’ve heard tales of how my family was once great and honorable, we would fight alongside kings and emperors, but that time had passed. When I was a child, no older than 5 or 6 the curse struck my village, the entire hamlet was engulfed in an eerie purple smoke and the dead rose from the land bellow. Without the help of my parents, Martin and Hannah Peyton I would never have escaped. My Pa grabbed his sword and my Ma grabbed me, rushing out only to encounter legions of undead. It was a massacre, bodies lay strewn about this way and that. At the time my juvenile mind was incapable of processing the horrors befalling my very eyes. Only now, I know the true tragedy that happened so many years ago. Just before we reached the outer boundaries of the village I knew there was not much hope, as the horde was nearly upon us. Without an ounce of selflessness my father sacrificed himself, bravely fighting until he was overwhelmed, allowing for us to make and escape. My mother was close to out of strength and we were nearly out of the fray but a lone undead took a bite from my mother’s leg, I had no choice but to leave her. She told me I had to live for her and my father, it was hard but I managed to break myself away and leave. In her dying breath her eyes were full of great sadness, but also of hope, hope for my survival and for the great things I would accomplish, I have never forgotten that look in all the time I have lived. For the next 2 years I roamed the woods living with the animals and surviving off of nothing but berries and whatever I could catch. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a dwarven shrine that I was able to accept my grief and truly live again. The dwarves taking care of the shrine took me in and gave me a place I could flourish and thrive. I told the dwarves my story and they agreed to train me to be a paladin. A holy warrior that strives for peace and justice. It is my duty to smite down evildoers and protect those who are in need. My end goal in life is to find and defeat Ebraecular the Empty, lift the curse on my bloodline, avenge my parents and right any wrong that Ebraecular has committed.


The Council benjaminreedle noahwhennig