Paladin Twofoot

Male Halfling Thief

Personal Details
Name: Paladin Twofoot
Race: Halfling
Class: Thief
Level: 3
XP: 2,151 (2,500)
Height: 3’ 2"
Weight: 40 lbs
Languages: Common, Halfling
STR: 14 (+1)
INT: 10
WIS: 4 (-2)
DEX: 17 (+2)
CON: 10
CHA: 8 (-1)
AC: 15
HP: 12
Light/Heavy Load: 55/110 lbs
Listen: 50%
Surprised: 1-2 on 1d6
Initiative: 1d6+3
Base AB: +2
Missile AB: +5
Melee AB: +3
Saving Throws
Death Ray or Poison: 8
Magic Wands: 10
Paralysis or Petrify: 8
Dragon Breath: 12
Spells: 10
Racial Abilities
+2 AC vs large melee creatures
Hide in Forest: 90%
Hide Indoors: 70%
Class Abilities
Open Locks: 25%
Remove Traps: 20%
Pick Pockets: 31%
Move Silently: 45%
Climb Walls: 99%
Hide: 10%
Listen: 50%

Paladin is anything but. He’s a halfling whose alcoholic consumption overwhelms his little liver. Drinking, he’s a friendly, outgoing, helpful little chap who has a knack for finding things and solving peoples’ problems. Drunk, he judges quickly and irrationally and can’t be dissuaded from his course. Sober, he’s hungover, mean and spiteful. A brawler with a nasty aim and superb hand-eye coordination, Paladin rarely gives up the opportunity to avenge a perceived slight, preferably from a distance. After the affair with the Proudfoot twins, the Chubb sisters, the Cotton’s dog, the Bunce’s pony, the Sackville’s barn, and the three church bells, enough was enough. Adalgrim Greenhand, the Shire Reeve, took him aside, plied him with cognac, and told him, “The road of adventure is calling you!” or “Get out of town before you get in real trouble!” or “Run! They are bringing pitchforks!”. Paladin’s still unclear on the whole thing.

Several weeks followed of sleeping under the glorious stars (except when it rained), foraging off the land (unless a pie was in a nearby windowsill), and mingling with humans in their quaint inns (until they mysteriously burn down). Paladin has a mostly healed burn on the side and top of his head, a present from the most recent inn fire. Paladin’s arrived in Marketstone and set up shop in the cheapest tavern he can afford. He happily tells his tale to anyone who buys him a drink, and to many who don’t.

Having now fought goblins and bandits, he realizes that his previous ways were probably ill-conceived. Instead of being a layabout likely to get into a fight, he should get people to pay him to wander about, kill other folk, take their things, and get paid to do it! He recognizes his plan needs some refinement, and some fire, but he’s certain with enough cider, everything will become clear.

Paladin Twofoot

The Marketstone Campaign JoeCarr28 JoeCarr28