Oakbow

Name: Oakbow
Real Name: Gariannor Swiftbow
Race: Wood elf
Class: Ranger 5th
Deity: Gwaeron Windstrom
Species enemy: Undead
Alignment: Lawful Good
Parents: Arandor Swiftbow, wood elf fighter & Elhestria Springoak, wood elf priestess of Eldath

STR: 16
DEX: 17
CON: 14
INT: 12
WIS: 14
CHR: 12


Tall even by elven standards, the ranger is slender to the point of being skinny.  His brown hair is worn straight, to the shoulders.  There is a braid hanging from his temple, from which are weaved a yeti's claw, an ice troll tooth, owlbear feathers and a fire salamander's claw.  His fox-like eyes are a smoky grey.

Personality: Just learning to control his foul temper after leaving home, Oakbow came across as rigid and cold most of the time.  Much of what he did was with undeniable expertise - but also with great economy of action.  Setting a snare, cleaning a weapon, tracing the trail of a gnoll warparty – he did all these tasks with the same equanimity and precision.  No movement was ever wasted, no words spent unneccessarily.  This elf was practical to the core, and a highly disciplined individual.  He had no time for flowery speeches, empty displays of bravado or the intricacies of haggling.  When he spoke, he knew exactly what he wanted and cut right to the chase.  Thus, he was never overly popular in the more civilized human cities, though this suited him fine.

His sometimes brutal forthrightness did not always endear him to his teammates, but they all knew one very important fact - they were free to love or hate him, but they would always be able to trust him with their lives.  He was all but incapable of lying to them, irregardless of his personal feelings.

The only time the ranger ever showed some spark of emotion, was when he was putting his life on the line, facing some danger.  He seemed to thrive on action, on the thrill produced when being challenged.  A dangerous climb, a mighty opponent or a trek across icy wastes – all these brought out an enthusiasm in him, a shine into his eyes.  And for a while, this was all he seemed to live for.

Until he met Morgana.

The fiery impulsive half-elf was almost the opposite of the ranger in almost every way.  He was a thinker, his mind always in motion long after his body had stopped moving.  She was always in action, full of life.  He prided himself on being impassive and logical, and she valued open emotion.  There was no way the two of them could fall in love - and yet, impossibly, they did.

Background: In youth, Gariannor Swiftbow was trained as a common soldier, in the wood elven community in Tethyr, under the exacting demands of his father, Arandor Swiftbow, who was a reknowned swordsman and archer.  The young elf had inherited his father's disciplined manner and perfectionism, but these he applied only to himself and not his peers, as his father often did.

Thus, young Gariannor lived in his father's shadow for many years.  In his spare time, his mother, who was a priestess of Eldath, introduced him to the wonders and terrors of nature.  The young warrior grew up with his mother's reverence of the woodlands, and the spirit of his father's discipline.

However, these years were punctuated by frequent quarrels between father and son.  It became apparent, as young Gariannor neared adulthood, that he would never quite measure up to his father's standards, and he was beginning to realize that perhaps he did not want to.  He was his own man, and he would make his own way.  Thus, after one particuarly heated quarrel where many harsh words were exchanged, the young elf rode away on his horse, leaving his homeland behind.  So, too, did he leave his name, introducing himself by the name of "Oakbow", in order to honour both his parents, and yet make his own name on his own terms.

Weapon proficiencies: Longsword, longbow, short sword, lasso, harpoon

Equipment: Leather armour +2, Short Sword of Sharpness, Longsword +1, harpoon, club, lasso, riding horse "Blackie", Mist Tent, sack of 20 caltrops

Combat: Oakbow never did anything pretentiously fancy – whatever worked was good enough. Even common-sense issues such as calling for ranged attacks against creatures he knew to be poisonous, was tactical and beautiful in its simplicity.

In battle, his expertise in the longbow came in useful for softening up the opposition when they were many and weak – such as goblins, kobolds and tasloi.  However, when they were larger and less intelligent creatures such as a remhoraz or troll, he would try to soften them up with a launched harpoon, causing the stuck creature to take damage each round while his comrades attacked it and he tugged on the rope of the harpoon to further restrain the creature.

Close up, his favoured weapons were a combination of the longsword and short sword.  He would go into melee combat with these weapons when the creatures were large and obviously too intelligent for the harpoon trick (ie, creatures using weapons and armour).

Usually, in a fight, the ranger was very methodical and precise, wasting no time on expletives or displays of exasperation.  His watchword was "efficiency". If an action did not further aid his objective, then it was redundant and not worth taking.  He rarely allowed himself to be controlled by anger, and tried to be in full control.  There were, however, exceptions to the rule.

If his love, Morgana, got injured during a battle, the ranger's eyes would suddenly grow cold with fury, and he would charge the offending creature, no matter how big it was, not ceasing till it was dead - and maybe not even then.

And if it was an undead creature, his aim was uncanny and he would strike mercilessly, fighting to the death.

 

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